"Heyes, we're losing our touch." said Curry ruefully, thinking of the fear on the faces of the young couple on the other side of the door that had just closed. It had been a long time since the partners had failed to put a stranger at ease and make them smile – when they wanted to.

Heyes shrugged in resignation. "They've read too much in the newspapers about us with words like murder and prison. We need to save a little boy from a run-away stage coach or something to get our shine back."

The Kid was determined to make at least his partner smile, "Or what about saving a pretty girl from a conman? That'd be a lot more fun – and less dangerous."

Heyes chuckled. "Kid, you're gettin' soft in your old age." The Kid didn't bother to correct the name his partner had called him.

The young law clerk who was waiting to greet the boys was smiling at their banter. "Welcome to the Albany County Courthouse, Mr. Curry, Mr. Heyes," said the clerk, reaching out to shake their hands in turn. His eyes were sparkling with excitement at meeting the famous former outlaws. Heyes and Curry exchanged a little smile – somebody still liked them! "We surely are grateful to you gentlemen for doing all this testifying about what happened to you during your time in the state penitentiary. If you can please sign these forms, we can get started." The partners were getting to sign their real names often enough this day that the long out of use signatures were starting to feel familiar again.

The clerk gestured to two doors opening off of the main office. "We have a stenographer ready to take down testimony for each of you, so you can both get this done as quickly as possible."

Heyes and Curry each went to a separate small office with a stenographer and a policeman so they could swear out their testimony. Cole shuttled back and forth between them, helping with any legal questions that arose and keeping Heyes and Curry moving along with their testimony. Curry was done within a couple of hours, which felt like an exhaustingly long time to talk about things like enforced silence and being beaten. He felt for his partner, who had a great many more hours of tedious testimony ahead of him.

Curry rode the hotel's surrey back so he could be with Cat while they waited for Heyes to finish. The Kid and Cat used the side door to meet discretely in Curry's room, speaking in low voices. "Cat," said the Kid, throwing his good grey hat onto the bed, "I sure hope that is the last I ever hear of the Wyoming State Penitentiary. It's ain't a nice place. I'm real, real sick of talkin' about it. But Heyes, he hates it worse than I do and he'll be talkin' about it for days."

Cat agreed. "He's a good man, your partner. Now if we can just convince some colleges of that. You're a good man, too, Jed. You're gonna make a great sheriff."

"I'd rather run a good hotel and saloon." The Kid grinned at Cat as he changed out of his good suit into his regular clothes. A few minutes of silence went by as Cat enjoyed watching her man strip down to his underwear and then change into his comfortable old western clothes.

"Jed," said Cat, suddenly sounding uncertain, "I've been keeping a good eye on our bottom line. Do you think, maybe, we could afford a little house?"

The Kid stopped buttoning up his blue shirt. "Well, maybe, if we scrimp a bit. And if Heyes and Beth don't need too much help getting' started. He's borrowed from everybody but us, so we got to be next."

Cat's voice was quiet. "Yeah, I know. And it's about killing him, too. So I know for us to buy a place is kind of a chance. But I've been thinking, Jed. A little boy or girl shouldn't be growing up around all those drunks and gamblers and prostitutes. Our baby needs a place that's really a home. With a garden and a dog and a cat, you know. I know it'd be expensive. Not just land and boards and nails, but paying somebody to cook and manage when I'm being a mommy and you're wearing your star."

The Kid smiled at his fiancé. "I know, Cat. I've been thinkin' the same thing, tryin' to put away a few bucks here and there. With a bit of a loan, if my name don't make it too hard, maybe. With a sheriff's pay on top of what we make from Christy's, we might could manage. I got my eye on a little plot just west a' town, truth to tell. The one with that pretty little maple tree on it right by the road – you know? Thought I'd make you a weddin' present of the land, then we can build the house together. What do you think?"

"Oh, Jed!" Cat threw her arms around the Kid and they shared a long, long kiss. Amnesty held plenty of joys for this couple with a third on the way.

As Cat freed her lips from the Kid's she said, "You know, it might be Heyes managing for us, and doing the books."

"I know," said the Kid quickly. "I'd trust him like nobody else. But I sure hope not. I mean, I'd be glad to have him and Beth in town. But it'd about break his heart not to teach, after all the work he's put in."

Cat sounded frustrated as she said to the Kid, "The way he's going around right now, it's like he's assuming he's beaten. I mean, I don't get it. He always knew what he'd be up against to get those degrees, didn't he?"

The Kid wasn't sure what to say. He and Heyes just understood each other sometimes in ways that were hard to put into words. "I don't know, Cat. He's learned a lot about all the stuff with schools. And the murder charge and that stupid book and the stuff in the papers, he didn't know to figure those in until they happened. I guess you'd just have to ask him."

"I will," said Cat. Curry knew that she really would ask Heyes about it. She had more guts about asking hard questions than anyone the Kid had ever encountered.

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That evening, the partners and their fiancés met for another room service dinner together in Charlie's hotel suite. "If you don't really need me here, I'll head back to New York in the morning," said Charlie as he worked on a superb steak dinner. "I want to see what I can do to prepare the folks at Columbia to grant our MA candidate here his degrees. Do you want me to go ahead and tell them who you are, Heyes? With all the newspaper coverage, they might well have guessed by now; but I haven't actually told them. Of course, they know that something's been going on the last couple of weeks, since you didn't apply to graduate after that delayed date we already gave them."

Heyes paused over a mouthful of hot roll to consider the question. He swallowed his roll. "No, I think you'd better let me do it, Charlie. If anyone's going to mess up that little revelation, I guess it should be me. The deans and the president, they'll sure have a whole bunch of questions right off. There would have to be a lot of those questions that only I can answer. If I need you to ride to the rescue, I'll tell you." Beth noticed that Heyes' voice was already a bit hoarse from his long day of testimony. It would be worse before it was better, and tension was a big part of it.

Charlie took a swig of red wine and said, "Have it your way, Heyes. But I can tell them that you were unavoidably detained – that's for sure! - and tell them on what day we expect you to apply for graduation. And do you mind my telling them that you were having legal troubles?"

Heyes paused and gave this some thought. "Well, alright. They'll know the whole truth soon enough. But I think the word murder had better wait for me to say it. And probably armed robbery, too. How did we ever get ourselves so deep in trouble, Kid?"

Curry shook his head. "If you don't know, Heyes, then I sure couldn't tell you."

Charlie said, "Alright, boys, I'll play it as cool as I can. Just send me a telegram as soon as you know when you'll be done testifying so we can figure up when you'll get back into town. Heyes, I'm guessing you'll want to be in the president's office very soon after you get off that train, right?"

Heyes nodded grimly. "I hate to wait for bad news."

Beth put an arm around her man, "Heyes! It'll be good news. You'll see."

Heyes smiled at her wearily, "Good or bad, I want it as soon as I can get it."

Beth turned to the Kid. "What about your getting your star, Jed? If you go to New York for Heyes' graduation and our wedding, will we be messing up your taking over your new job?"

Curry shrugged. "Doubt it. Seems to me Wilde's waited more'n five years, he can wait a few more days. I wired him about the amnesty and he sent his best. He said he looked forward to handin' me that star, but he didn't say nothin' about a day in particular. I'll send him another telegram and see what he says. We are runnin' up a regular bill with Western Union."

The Kid looked back at Professor Homer. "We're gonna miss having you around, Charlie. Be lookin' to see you at our weddin'. You fix it up with that minister as a double weddin' and that'll be fine with us."

"Yeah, Jed and I talked all about it this afternoon," said Cat. "We'd rather have a double wedding if that's good with you folks."

Beth smiled. "Yes, Heyes and I discussed it, and that's what we'd like, too. I hope that minister really doesn't mind a double wedding involving two former outlaws."

"He'll be fine, Beth, you'll see," said Charlie. "We just need to give him a date."

"Soon as we get to New York after Heyes is done here, seems right to me," said Curry. "We can wire to invite folks from Colorado before we get there, so they'll be ready."

"We're guessing it'll take two more days to get all the testimony done," said Heyes. "Then we can go."

"No, no, no!" said Cat firmly. "We can't get married right after we get to New York."

"Why not?" asked Jed.

"Heyes has to graduate first. It'd drive him nuts to wait." said Cat.

Heyes looked down with a crooked, embarrassed smile. "Woman knows me. You're right, Cat. I'd like to get it out of the way first, if you folks don't mind. It's kinda' symbolic, I guess. If I can get those degrees, they give me at least a chance to support my wife in the style to which she has become accustomed, or better. If they let me graduate at all."

"They will, darling. I can't tell you not to worry, but you need to have confidence. They do know you there, after all." said Beth, stroking Heyes' shoulder lovingly. She was just glad that Heyes hadn't heard the speech that Charlie had given to Cat after the boys had left that morning.

"I hope you're right, Beth," said Charlie. "I just hope."

Cat stared hard at the aspiring MA student. "Heyes, you've always known it'd be a problem for you to get those degrees. You always knew that you had to have backup plans, and you do. So why do you let it get to you so much? And why'd you go for it in the first place? Seems a mighty long chance for you to take – you're a man who knows odds mighty well."

Heyes waited a moment to answer, biting on his lip as he looked around the faces of his friends. He knew that Beth and Charlie understood all this at least partially, but he despaired of getting any part of his feelings across to Cat and the Kid. He looked down as he began, the lack of eye contact making the high-flown ideas easier to articulate. "I've always wanted to teach, ever since I was a little boy. I admired teachers more'n anybody I knew. And when I saw how Charlie taught, I knew that's what I really wanted to do. And, forgive me Charlie, but I also knew that if I worked real, real hard I could do it. Charlie makes it look easier than it is, of course. That's part of what a good teacher does. He's there to bring attention to what he's teaching – not to himself. And a lot of what Charlie's taught me is how important mathematics is in this new, modern world. If I can get that across to some young folks getting started, well, it's a way I can give back. I can try to make up for what I did to hurt people before. So that's why I want it. That's the easy part.

"It was, and it is, a long chance. But I knew the experience itself would be worth it. Whether or not I ever get to teach, I'll never forget what I've learned and who I've learned it from and who learned with me. My ma always said that nothing you learn is ever wasted. I'm sure she was right." This got the attention of everyone there – Heyes virtually never mentioned his family. And he never said anything about them unless it was very, very important. He paused a minute. In a low whisper, looking down at the floor, he added, "I hope she and Pa'd be proud of what I'm trying to do. I know they would'a been ashamed of nearly everything we did before."

Then Heyes' voice recovered and he looked up at his friends, especially at the Kid and Cat. "And, well, it's the way academics do things. They pick out targets that are real hard to hit and throw their hearts at 'em just as hard as they can. A lot of them don't hit the mark, but some do. They figure it's worth it to try. It's about as different from the calculated risks of robbery as anything could be. I figure academics are pretty brave folks, and well, good. So I wanted to be like that. We've been pretty far from good most of our lives, Kid. But I think we have it in us. I know you do, Mr. Sheriff. So maybe I'm crazy, but then again, maybe not." Heyes came to the end of his little speech with a shy little smile, blushing at the floor. He'd never said anything like this to anyone before. His friends felt like applauding. All they could do was to smile, and Heyes understood.

"Thanks, Heyes." smiled the Kid, almost as embarrassed as his partner. "We'll see about that. I guess with both of us, we'll just see if we can make it. I don't know if I understand real well what you mean, but maybe I do. I have known you since I was born."

Charlie gave his prize student a particularly brilliant smile. "Heyes, I hope you can remember at least some of what you just said. If you can repeat that to some college presidents and deans, at Columbia and at other places, I have a feeling it would stand you in real good stead."

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Heyes left dinner soon after that, looking tired, but happy. Having the open support of his friends was a great help to him. Beth gave him a bit of time to settle in before she followed and knocked on that discrete side door. The ex-outlaw gave his fiancée a wry smile as he let her in. "Hi, honey. Did I make a total fool of myself with everybody just now?"

"Of course not, Heyes," said Beth softly. "You just got Cat and Jed in your corner even more than ever. And you're going to need them there." She hesitated for a minute as Heyes started pulling off his shoes and sock. Then she asked, "Heyes, was it hard swearing out testimony?"

Heyes sighed as he pulled off his belt. "Is it that obvious?"

"To me, yes," admitted Beth. "You look awful tired. It was a lot of talking, but it must have been pretty emotional, too."

"It's just hard going back over it all, not being able to leave it behind," Heyes was pulling off his pants, which he draped carefully over a chair. Then, in just his white shirt and drawers, he leaned back against a stack of cushions in his comfortable hotel bed. "When I think of all the times the Kid and I broke out of jail and rode off laughing. Those poor guys at the pen sure can't do that! I keep feeling like prison's where we really belong. Not that I want to be there. But sometimes it seems like the past is never gonna let us go."

"It hasn't been very long, Heyes. For heaven's sake, give yourselves some time," said Beth, climbing into bed beside Heyes. She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "And stop feeling guilty for getting amnesty. You've earned it! After the speech you gave us at dinner, you ought to know that you can do a lot better out in the world than locked away. People are going to appreciate you."

"Well, I hope so. But, there was this nice young couple in the courthouse to get their marriage license. They thought the Kid and I were real nice guys – until they heard our names. Then they looked as scared as if we'd drawn guns on them. Five years of college, trying to make myself all wonderful so I can serve American society. And people still think we're gonna rob 'em." Heyes looked at the ceiling looking near despair.

Beth could see how badly those strangers had hurt her man. "Seriously, Heyes. You got out of prison yesterday. Yesterday! Nobody has any idea about your school work. You kept your real name a secret, remember?"

Beth started giving the tense former outlaw a back rub that made him wriggle his shoulders in pleasure. "Ooh! That's better. Thanks, honey. I guess I'm a pretty lucky man after all." Soon Beth had more of Heyes' clothes off and she was rubbing more of his sore muscles.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Heyes made a serious effort and managed to get up very early the next morning to see Charlie off. Heyes helped to carry Charlie's luggage to the train station, which was just across the street from the hotel. The air was still cool and the sun was barely rising as they walked in the station's door.

"I'll do all I can for you with the deans and the president, Heyes," said Charlie as they stood on the platform together. "It might even be easier without your name. But after all the stuff in the papers, they're bound to guess it." Heyes couldn't help glancing around the platform at the few other people waiting for the early train east, to see if anyone reacted to his name. He wondered if he was imagining that the grey-haired man standing closest to the pair had heard and that was why he moved a few strides farther down the platform, keeping a tight grip on his suitcase.

Heyes gave in. "Oh, alright, Charlie, you can tell them if you think it's better that way. I'm sure the Columbia top brass will figure it out. Makes me feel naked now that everybody knows. But I just got to deal with it."

Charlie laughed. "They'll forget about it in time, Heyes. When people find out about the degrees and the brilliant work you did to get them, that's what they'll remember. Or the people who matter will."

"B.S.!" said Heyes harshly. Charlie only laughed. Heyes was right, of course.

They heard the train whistle in the distance. Heyes looked fondly at his advisor. "Thanks for everything, Charlie. You do a lot for all of your students, but I've sure asked more than anyone. I'll owe you forever. I just hope I get to ask you to a graduation and a wedding real soon."

The men shook hands as the train pulled in. Charlie stepped up onto the train and reached down to get his suitcase from Heyes. He waved from the platform as the train pulled out. "See you soon, Heyes!" he called. Heyes cringed at this loud use of his real name. Then he walked back across the street, imagining that all of the few people abroad so early were staring at him.

There was another long, exhausting day of testimony ahead of Heyes. Jed Curry stayed in the hotel that day, growing restless despite getting to spend so much time with Cat. They lounged around the Kid's room, talking and planning for the wedding and their new house and the baby. Cat was eager to shop for a wedding dress that would do Jed proud, but they both realized it would be much better to wait until they were in New York. Cat would find a better selection there and her fiancé was far less likely to be recognized.

Finally, as the afternoon grew late and Heyes still wasn't back, the Kid said, "Cat, I'm goin' stir crazy in this place. I'm going down the street to a bar, maybe play some poker. And you know, if guys recognize me, let 'em. I got to find out the gossip – see if word's gettin' out on us and what the word is." He looked at Cat, waiting for her to put up all kinds of objections. But while her eyebrows rose a bit during this speech, she had no reply. Jed asked, "Well, ain't you gonna' argue?"

Cat shook her head. "You sound to me like a man who's made up his mind. I don't want to be a nagging wife. You go off and play some cards and get a drink. You must need it by now. Just not too many drinks, please. It'd make it real hard on Heyes, you know. And you might get careless if you got drunk."

"Now woman, since when have you ever seen me get real drunk?" asked Curry in annoyance.

Cat grinned. "Since never, sweet-heart. And I don't want you to start now that you've got amnesty. I have a feeling you're gonna find out whether the wanted posters are still up on you boys or not. If there's any place the sheriff ought to know about your amnesty already, Laramie is it."

The Kid gave an emphatic nod. "Yeah, that's what I figure. The amnesty papers say the word'll go out around the country – they'll put up posters to replace the wanted ones. I guess it'll take time, but it ought to be on the walls 'round here by now."

"I agree. So off you go, Jed," said Cat. "I just hope nobody who's not up on the news tries to take you in dead and then finds out they're too late."

Jed glared at Cat, but broke into a smile. "We've put up with that for fifteen years," he said. "I'll be fine. I won't volunteer my name and you sure know that most guys in saloons know better than to ask." Curry turned and buckled on his gun belt, tying the gun down safely. He hadn't worn his gun since the morning of the last day of Heyes' murder trial. It gave him more confidence to have it back on. Cat had brought it to him when she came to the hotel. Some kind sheriff who knew Wilde had sent it to her after the Kid had been arrested. Curry was also glad to have his very short hair mostly covered by his big brown cowboy hat.

Jed Curry walked out the door of the Golden Fleece hotel with the slow, rolling gait of a gunfighter, balanced and ready for anything. He tried not to be too obvious about keeping an eye out for danger. But nobody took any particular notice as a blue-eyed man with very short deep golden hair walked down the street and into the Bucket of Blood. With his hair too short to curl and no dark-haired, dimpled Heyes at his side, he was pretty hard for strangers to spot.

The Kid leaned on the bar. "Your best whiskey, barkeep." said Curry. The man complied without a second look at the stranger before him. Curry tossed down some coins and knocked back the drink. It felt good. He'd had nothing but a little wine at the hotel, and of course no alcohol at all in jail and prison.

Curry soon found a poker game that needed another hand. He lost the first pot – always good policy. He won the next one, worth a good little sum that he would be glad to add to his savings for the house. "Where you from, stranger?" asked the dusty young red-headed cowboy next to him.

Curry, who was dealing next, gathered up the cards to shuffle them and answered. "Colorado. And about every place west of the Mississippi before that. What about you?"

"Little place in Montana you never heard of," said the red-head as Curry dealt out the cards with swift efficiency.

"Try me," said Curry quietly, taking up his cards and studying them with casual indifference.

"Lodge Grass," said the young cowboy with a laugh. "One for me, Mr. Colorado."

Curry gave the red-headed cowboy a grin with his card and dealt out more to the other four men at the table. "I know the place, son. I been there."

"You have, have you? We're famous for about one thing, these days. Kid Curry got kidnapped there 'couple a years back, and Hannibal Heyes came to get him out. But it was our local poet, Theron Wiseman, really got 'em both out. Did you know that?"

"I did know that, real, real well," said Curry with a laugh, as he looked down to grab some of his poker chips to add to the pot.

Before Curry could get his chips into the pot, he heard a pistol cock right behind him. Curry looked up into the mirror on the wall across from his chair. So he wasn't particularly surprised to hear Harry Briscoe say, with grand self-importance, "Hands up, Kid Curry! Harry Briscoe of the Bannerman Detective Agency has you under arrest!" The red-headed cowboy and the rest of the men at the table gasped and pulled back their chairs in a hurry. They quickly scattered away into the saloon floor, but kept watching what was going on.

The black-hatted Briscoe smiled around his cigar. "I got a Colt trained on your back, Curry, old friend. I need money and you're gonna get it for me with that big reward. You're comin' down to the sheriff's office with me. I'm in luck to catch you without your partner watchin' your back! Don't give me trouble or I'll be glad to take the dead end of dead or alive. You know me, Harry Briscoe, never soft on crime!"

Curry put his hands up, dropping his cards on the table carefully face down. He hoped to get out of this without too much trouble. "Sure, Harry, I can see the Colt real plain in that mirror. That's why the mirror's there. I won't give you no trouble and I'd be happy to go down to the Sheriff's office with you. But you won't get a dime."

"Huh? Why not, Kid?" Briscoe was startled.

"Amnesty, Harry," said the Kid with pardonable pride. "Heyes and me, we just got our amnesty day before yesterday. You'll find a special proclamation sayin' that up in the sheriff's office, here and in every town all over the place."

"You did? Amnesty? You don't say! So where's Heyes?" Briscoe was anxious not to be fooled, as he so often had been by the partners. He still had his gun trained on Curry's back. He reached over and got the Kid's gun out of his holster and stuck it in his own belt.

"Down to the courthouse swearin' out testimony, Harry. Surrounded by more marshals than you could wave a stick at, and not breakin' a sweat," said the Kid. "I guess he'll be done pretty soon. He'll be lookin' for me."

"Curry, you and Heyes think you're pretty slick, we'll you've met your match in me. I ain't heard a word about amnesty for you boys, so we'll just go and check that at the sheriff's office if you don't mind. Let's go. Now!" Briscoe gestured with his gun for Curry to get up and start walking, so he did. As much of a fool as Briscoe was, if he pulled the trigger from such close range, there would be damage done.

"Wait, Briscoe," said the red-headed cowboy. "I done heard about that amnesty. It was in the papers here yesterday. So this is Kid Curry? Wow!" There was general murmuring all around the saloon, making it clear that plenty of men had read about the amnesty and that nearly everyone thought it was extremely good news.

But Briscoe wasn't buying it. "You could'a bribed these guys to say that about the amnesty, Curry! We're going to the sheriff's office and we're going now!"

"What, bribed a whole saloon full of guys? You're not thinkin' too clear, Harry." said the Kid, "But I'm goin' along. You got the cocked gun and I got plenty a' time." He addressed the men he'd been playing poker with, "Boys, deal me out. But I'll be back soon, so keep my chair and my chips ready for me, alright?"

"Sure, Kid." answered a burly stock yard man who had been at Curry's left. The man's voice sounded a bit nervous. Amnesty or no amnesty, people had respect for Kid Curry.

A dozen or so people gathered along the sidewalks to watch Harry Briscoe take Kid Curry in to the Sheriff's office. There was much talk about the amnesty and someone started to laugh. Then there was more laughter from the gathering crowd as word from the saloon spread about who was being marched down to the sheriff's office at gunpoint. "You ain't much up on the news, Mister!" someone called. "Sorry, Kid, you got a fool behind you there!" Briscoe said not a word, but held his gun and chomped on his cigar harder than ever.

When they got to the Sheriff's office, Curry went first, opening the door for Briscoe politely. The sheriff and his deputies gathered to see what this fuss was about. "I'm Harry Briscoe of the Bannerman Detective Agency and I got Kid Curry here for you, Sheriff!" said Briscoe proudly. "He's tryin' to tell me he and Heyes got amnesty, but I want to see what you've got to say about that. He's a cagey man, Kid Curry, and Heyes is the same. I know 'em both real, real well!"

The sheriff laughed. "Have a look here, Briscoe," he said, pointing to an ornate broadside posted over the wanted posters on his wall. "I just got this proclamation yesterday and put it up. Heyes and Curry have amnesty! Not a penny on their heads anymore. Says they've turned in criminals and money aplenty and earned their freedom. So you got to let him go, Mr. Briscoe."

"No, he's Kid Curry! The most famous gunman in the West!" said Briscoe in terrible disappointment. "I've been waiting years to turn in Heyes and Curry and you mean to tell me that I waited two days too long?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm tellin' you," chuckled the sheriff, twisting his long grey mustache. "If it weren't for bad luck, some folks wouldn't have no luck at all. Two days too long! Don't know why you waited." He shook his head. "So put that gun down or I'll get you for reckless endangerment and unlawful detention. And hand Mr. Curry his gun back, or I'll get you on theft."

Briscoe holstered his own gun, handed the Kid his Colt back, and stalked off out the door muttering to himself. "Thanks Harry," said the Kid. "Better luck next time, Harry!" Curry called after the retreating detective with a laugh.

"Thanks, Sheriff!" said Curry, studying the broadside. "I'm sure glad to see that proclamation after all these years. That's as pretty a piece of paper as I've ever clapped eyes on."

"Congratulations, Mr. Curry," said the bandy-legged little sheriff, reaching out to shake the famous former outlaw's hand. "You're welcome around here any time."

"I never thought," said the Kid, "I'd ever hear that from a sheriff – not if he knew who I was. And by the way, I'm gonna' be a sheriff myself out Colorado way. So if I can do you a favor any time, just let me know."

The Kid walked slowly back down the street to the Bucket of Blood, shaking the hands of half dozen happy strangers all the way. There wasn't any way to hide who he was, now, so Curry figured he'd enjoy it. He went through the swinging doors of the saloon and found his chair waiting for him with a glass of whiskey on the table for him. "Thanks, boys!" Curry downed the whiskey and nodded for one of the men to deal him in. When a waiter came over he said softly, "Just beer after this, alright? And a sandwich if you got one."

"When's Heyes gonna come join you, Kid?" asked the red-headed cowboy.

"I didn't tell him where I was goin', but I figure he'll be here any old time," replied Curry. "We do know each other pretty darned well by now." He also knew that many, many people had seen him on his way back to the saloon. The guys at the Golden Fleece Hotel would have no trouble telling Heyes where his partner was. It was just a matter of whether Heyes wanted to take the risk of coming out where people knew his name. Beth and Cat wouldn't be happy about it, but Heyes wouldn't follow anyone's direction but his own.

A few hands along, the Kid heard the swinging doors squeak and there was a little commotion behind him. He looked up at the mirror and said, "Boys, you got a chair for my partner?"

"Sure, Kid! It's a big table," said the heavily-muscled blacksmith who was dealing. "Bob, bring us another chair!"

Heyes sat down next to the Kid. He had changed into his old western clothes and he wore his gun at his side. Charlie had brought it from Heyes' rented room in New York.

The partners exchanged a grin as Heyes was dealt in and paid out some cash for chips. It was the first time the two had sat down together to play poker in months. And it was the first time they'd played in public under their own names in many years. It might be dangerous for them to be seen in public, but frankly they were having too much fun to care that much. Winning some public support wasn't a bad thing for them, though Heyes would have to be careful not to look too disreputable. No matter what college presidents might think, Laramie was embracing the infamous Wyoming former outlaws. A couple of very lovely girls came to stand near the table, ignored by their hoped for customers. Men gathered from all over the famous saloon to watch the even more famous pair of former outlaws play poker.

"Beer, barkeep! And a sandwich!" called Heyes in a slightly hoarse voice. He fanned his first hand and looked at it. He saw two kings and two queens – one red and one black of each. And the ace of spades. It took a serious effort to keep a smile off Heyes' face. He didn't want to get careless, but Heyes thought that he and the Kid might just have gotten their touch back.