Late on a bright Tuesday morning, Heyes and Charlie walked down busy 42nd Street past news boys and fruit vendors. They turned in the doors of that grand red brick edifice, Grand Central Depot. They were meeting a passenger coming from Montana. They waited in the lobby. It wasn't long after the train was due that a young man came toward the western pair with a suitcase and briefcase in hand. "Thanks so much for coming all this way, Cole," said Heyes to his lawyer, Hardin Cole. Once Cole had dropped his luggage, Heyes heartily shook the young African-American's hand. "I really appreciate your making a statement for me to the Columbia board. And keeping an eye on the board to make sure they don't pull anything!"

Cole smiled at his former client. "I'm glad to be here, Heyes. After what you've put up with, it's great that you're this close to graduating and getting to teach. Now let's get you the rest of the way. Good to see you again, Professor Homer."

Charlie shook the lawyer's hand. "Good to see you, Cole! But we have more need of you than just that brief statement and riding herd on this little hearing. We have a pressing legal question."

Cole looked curious. "Sure thing, Professor Homer. What is it that you couldn't wire or write to me?"

"We'd better have more privacy before we ask you that," said Heyes cautiously, with his eyes sweeping the lobby to make sure that nobody among the teaming crowds was paying them too much attention. "Let's go to Charlie's place." They took a cab and went up the stairs to Charlie's brownstone apartment.

As the trio got in Heyes' advisor's door and went back to the parlor, Cole said, in embarrassment, "Um, gentlemen, I hate to ask, but is there a place I can stay?"

Heyes said, "Sure. The Black Eagle Hotel is good, cheap, and close."

Now Cole looked really uncomfortable. Avoiding his client's eyes, he said, "Heyes, I really doubt that they would accept me."

Heyes looked startled, then embarrassed. Charlie looked with compassion at the young lawyer with his soft brown skin and hazel eyes, but he directed his words to Heyes. "I'm afraid he's right, Heyes. Most New York hotels won't accept people who aren't white. Most hotels anywhere in this supposedly fair country are whites only. But don't worry, Cole. I've got plenty of space for you here."

"You're sure you don't mind?" Cole asked, suddenly sounding very young and uncertain.

Charlie replied, "Of course not! The bed's made and ready. Got towels out for you. Take a seat, please."

Cole was grateful, not only to be asked to stay but even to be allowed to sit in a white man's parlor. He could not take either of these for granted. Heyes almost whispered guiltily to his lawyer. "Sorry, Cole. I should have known. The Kid and I, we run up against some rejections. Especially now that people know our real names. But we've done stuff to deserve it. You don't." Cole shrugged. The routine racial prejudice of his day was something he had lived with all his life.

As they sat down, Cole looked back and forth between Heyes and Charlie and asked, "Alright gentlemen. What's this mysterious question?"

"Privileged communication?" asked Heyes, using his favorite piece of legalese.

Now Cole was really curious. "Hand me a dollar as an official retainer and I can received privileged communication from you, Heyes."

Heyes dug a wrinkled dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to Cole. Then he asked, "Now that we have amnesty, can someone admit to having helped us elude the law? Or would they get arrested for aiding and abetting?"

Cole looked skeptical. "You're thinking of someone who wants to speak for you at Columbia, I suppose."

"Just answer the question, please, Mr. Lawyer," said Heyes.

Cole's eye brows went up. "It depends."

"Typical lawyer!" exclaimed Heyes. "Just what does it depend on, Cole?"

"Everything. What kind of aiding and abetting we're talking about. When and where it took place. Every state's laws are different."

Heyes asked again. "You're sure nobody's gonna get arrested if we tell you?"

Cole said emphatically, "It's privileged communication, Heyes. Nobody's going to get arrested. Or at least not on my evidence. If you do something stupid and expose it to someone later, it's not my fault."

"Fair enough," said Heyes apprehensively, drumming his fingers on his thigh. "We're talking Colorado nearly six years ago. Not knowing who we were or what we were wanted for, but knowing that we were wanted, . . . someone hid us from a posse."

Cole knew enough of the story to immediately guess what Heyes was referring to. "This would be Catherine Christy? The lady who's engaged to Jed Curry?"

Heyes sighed. "You know too much about me, Cole! Yes, it would be."

Cole paused for a long moment. "She's probably fine, but I'm not positive. I'd need to look up the case law for Colorado. I hope I could do that in the Columbia University law library, or one of the other libraries here abouts, but it would take time. And I'm not sure how that would interact with New York law. I'd need to look that up, too. We've got less than one day, so I might not have enough time to dig out all of the relevant case law. And, frankly, they might not let a person of color use the library without a letter of recommendation. Or maybe even with one. So just to be on the safe side, I'd keep her from speaking unless you're positive no such question will come up."

Later that evening, Cat, the Kid, Heyes, Beth, Charlie, and Cole met in Charlie's parlor. Everyone else was seated except the nervously pacing Heyes. He came to a momentary stop opposite Cat, who was sitting with Jed as usual. "So, as Cole advises, Cat, you really shouldn't speak for me," said Heyes.

"No dice, Heyes," replied Cat testily. "If I don't speak, it's gonna look mighty suspicious. I'd be the one close friend keeping silent. I just gotta hope nobody asks me about the posse. I wouldn't think they would, would you? I mean, if I'm a character witness, I'm there to talk about what kind of man you are. I wouldn't have to talk about every little thing that happened."

"Probably," said Charlie, speaking up about a procedure that he knew better than anyone else present. "But they could ask anything. This isn't a court of law. They don't have to have a legal reason for a question. They just have to ask. If you refused to answer a question, it might not get you in legal trouble right then. But it could later if somebody gets suspicious and consults the law."

"Cat, I've got plenty of people. They'd never miss you. I don't want to put you in danger, after all you've done for me," said Heyes.

"Sweetie, I wish to heck you wouldn't take the chance," said Curry. "Think of . . ."

Cat cut him off. "No, Jed! Stop being so damned . . . what do they call it, Beth, so . . ."

"Chivalrous?" guessed Beth. "Like an old time knight in shining armor?"

"That's it, Beth. That's Jed all over. Just stop it, honey! Heyes needs me. I don't want to leave him looking bad. If I didn't speak, it'd leave a hole that folks would notice. We can't risk that. And that's that. I'm speaking." Cat folded her arms to signal that the debate was at an end.

Jed Curry put his arms around Cat and gave her a tender kiss. "Cat, you are the greatest lady I ever knew. Pardon me, Beth – maybe it's a tie."

Beth smiled. "Hey, Jed, I'm complemented just to be in the running with somebody I admire that much."

Heyes came back to Cat."Thank you! I'm more in your debt that I'll ever be able to repay. Just please, keep it short. That's what they keep telling me. And in your case, it's the safest thing."

"I never was one to lecture, professor," smirked Cat. "I leave that to you."

Heyes opened his mouth to defend himself from this charge, but then he closed his lips. He supposed Cat might be right. Heyes just turned to his advisor, "So Charlie, you've got 'em all lined up? All the Columbia grad students, the clinic folks . . . Boy, I wish we could find Lom safe and sound someplace!"

Charlie nodded. "Me, too. But yeah, Heyes, other than Lom Trevors, they're all lined up. We both know who they are. They all know when and where the meeting is and what to do. They all know just to answer questions and speak the truth. We've even got a place lined up for lunch. We're all set, Heyes! So please just stop fidgeting and worrying. Get a good night's sleep, give your little talk. Keep it brief. Answer questions. Listen. Wait. And graduate with two degrees with honors, Mr. Hannibal Heyes!"

"Yeah, alright, Charlie, folks. It's all set. I'm grateful to you all. It's all fine. So why don't I feel calm and ready for this?" Heyes rubbed his head where he had been shot.

Charlie gave his student a cock-eyed smile. "Heyes, you've always mistrusted authority. Considering your history, I don't blame you. And you and the kind of business leaders who are on the board don't sound like a real good mix to me, either, considering how often you've robbed trains and banks."

"You give me such confidence, Charlie," quipped Heyes.

Charlie's eyes gleamed. "Well, that's one side. On the other side, you have that sparkling academic record of yours, which is still hard for me to believe. And you've got a lot of folks in your corner, Heyes. You've got a university president and I'm guessing at least one dean, not to mention a whole crowd of students and friends and doctors and . . . well," he gestured around the room at Heyes' most important supporters. "We won't let anybody be unfair to you. We just won't stand for it."

Heyes chuckled and looked around the room. "Thanks, Charlie, and everybody. I do appreciate it. I just keep wondering if you're all sticking your necks out for a guy who's not worth it."

Beth spoke up, getting to her feet and taking her fiancé's hand. "That, Mr. Heyes, is up to us to judge. And we wouldn't be here, any of us, if we didn't think you were worth it. So get a good night's sleep and let us go to work for you."

Heyes grinned self-consciously. "Thanks, honey. I'll try."

As they walked back to Beth's room through the darkened streets of New York in the soft early summer air, she snuggled up to her man. A nearly full moon shown down on them. "Heyes, my love, you're going to be fine. You'll do your usual brilliant job. Justice will win out. The law's already come out on your side. Now you just have to convince a couple of harmless academics and some nice board members."

Heyes grimaced. "One of them's president of the good old Union Pacific Railroad – our favorite target. And another one is a bank president. We never robbed one of his banks, but I doubt that'll warm him up. Well, I made my bed years ago. Now I've got to lie in it. Alone, for at least one more night. Good-night, love."

He kissed Beth again, as passionately as he dared to in a public street where they were far from alone. Beth finally freed herself and reluctantly climbed the steps to the brownstone where she rented a room. As she got to the door she turned and looked at Heyes, standing on the sidewalk below and looking up at her. She thought what a strange world it was where a quiet tutor could wind up engaged to Hannibal Heyes the retired outlaw. And where a Kansas farm boy could become a notorious outlaw and later, just maybe, a university professor. Or he could if he was very lucky and played his cards just right. Beth blew Heyes one more kiss before she went in the door and locked it carefully behind her.

Beth looked out the brownstone's front window at Heyes as he walked slowly back to his own room in the silvery moonlight. She found his slightly awkward walk, exacerbated by his partner's bullet in his hip, sweetly endearing. How tempted she was to run after him!

Heyes was pondering his situation as he ambled down the New York streets he had come to know so well in the last more than five years. His hands were in his pockets, his habitual eastern substitute for resting them on his gun belt.

Heyes' mind was far away as he opened the door to the building where his rented room was. His door was down a dark hall. As he got near the door, he belatedly realized that someone was standing near his door in the shadows. Heyes pulled his gun out of his jacket pocket. "Don't try it, boy!" said a hostile voice.

Heyes smiled. "Kid! Don't sneak up on me like that. I could'a blown your fool head off!"

"Sorry, Heyes. Thought you knew I was here. Charlie loaned me his key to your building. You mind if I come in for a minute?" asked Jed Curry.

Heyes opened the door, almost embarrassed to have his partner see him use an ordinary key rather than a picklock. "Sure, come on in. Just don't stay long. I got to get a good night's sleep. Least a dozen folks have told me that today and I figure they've got a point."

"They're right about that, I guess," said Curry as he followed his partner into his rented room. He had never been there before and looked around curiously. "I didn't guess anybody could fit this many books in one room, Heyes. Wow! And they ain't all math, neither. What's this?" He pulled a slender leather-bound volume out of a precarious stack at random.

Heyes cringed as a bunch of book cascaded onto Curry's feet. Finally, when the noise of the falling books and Curry's obscenities had subsided, Heyes looked at the spine of the book in his partner's hand.

Heyes observed, "Hamlet. My favorite Shakespeare play. And don't do that again, Kid. You could get hurt!"

Curry rubbed uselessly at his shoes. "Could get hurt! I'll be limpin' for a week!"

"Well, you earned it," chuckled Heyes. "Reminds me of my whole life, right now. One thing goes wrong and it'll all fall in. And you, and Beth, and Cat could get hurt. So I'd really better get to sleep and be all ready for tomorrow. What'd you come for anyhow, Kid?"

Curry had given up on correcting his partner about his name, at least until after his hearing by the board was over. "Just came to wish you luck. You know I'm on your side."

Heyes said, "Thanks, Jed. I surely do appreciate it. It works the other way, too. When you get your badge, I'll be there for you. Just tell me when and where."

Curry replied, "I hope you won't be too far off after that, too. Those deputies just ain't the same as you at watchin' my back. And we've got a boy or girl comin' who'll wanna have Uncle Heyes around."

Heyes grinned brilliantly. "Uncle Heyes! That sounds fine to me. You know I want to teach out West, Jed. I haven't heard of any openings in Colorado yet, but I'm watching for them. U.C. doesn't have money for a real math prof, last I heard."

Curry was puzzled. "You see? What am I supposed to see?"

Heyes translated. "Not words, Jed, initials - U.C. – The University of Colorado. Over in Boulder."

"Oh," said Jed. That sure would be nice, havin' you that close, Heyes. So not now. Maybe someday. But you got to graduate first. Guess I'd best get back to the hotel. Less you want me to stay?"

Heyes replied irritably, "Jed, I don't need you to watch me like a cowboy with a nervous herd! There's nobody looking to kidnap me or shoot me."

"Guess not nowadays," admitted Curry. "Well, good-night, Heyes." He clapped his partner on the shoulder.

"Good-night, Jed. And thanks."

That night Heyes tossed and turned on his thin old mattress. He just couldn't settle in to sleep. His brain refused to turn off for the night. He kept worrying about being up and ready for his hearing with the board of Columbia University at 9:00 sharp the next morning.

Finally, Heyes gave up on a good night's sleep and got up earlier than he really needed to. Yawning, he put on his robe and went out to the sink in the hall near his door to wash up and shave. Then he sat back down on his bed, still yawning. Suddenly Heyes woke up with a start and looked at the clock. It was after 8:00 and he hadn't even gotten dressed or had breakfast! He dressed and brushed his still very short hair in a near panic. He dashed down the street to the new deli where he had started getting breakfast and made do with a quick cup of coffee and a bagel.

The adrenalin began to flow as Heyes paced up and down the street trying in vain to hail a cab. There were none to be found. Heyes just lived in too poor a neighborhood for cabs to want to go there. He had to walk several blocks to the vicinity of a hotel before he found a cab. So by the time he got to Columbia, he was running up the steps of the main building to get to the conference room only seconds before 9:00.

Heyes stopped to catch his breath. As he raised his hand to knock on the conference room door, Charlie came up behind him. His voice made his advisee jump in surprise. "They're running late, Heyes. Can't get all those board members gathered. And they want you and all of us to wait here in the next room anyhow so they can talk without our hearing them. So hurry up and wait. Sorry you had to run for nothing."

"Ain't it always the way, Charlie?" asked Heyes.

Inside the large classroom where his friends were gathering, Heyes was greeted with relief.
"Oh Heyes, there you are!" exclaimed Beth. "What on earth kept you?"

Heyes came up close enough that their conversation wouldn't be widely overheard and admitted, "I overslept. Just couldn't sleep and drifted back off after I got up." He tried to suppress a yawn.

"Heyes! How . . ." Beth started, and then she stopped herself from berating Heyes. Instead she went to his side. He put an arm around her. She said, "You're going to do wonderfully, Heyes, you know you will! Just remember, you're dealing with fellow mortals. Arrogant and self-important fellow mortals, but you know how to deal with guys like them. Alright?"

"Alright, honey!" said Heyes, giving Beth a squeeze. She went to sit back down at a desk, not wanting to distract her fiancée too much right now.

Heyes walked up and down the rows of seats shaking hands. "Thank you so much!" He said to Dr. Leutze.

"I'm delighted to have the opportunity to help you start your academic career, Heyes!" said the doctor happily.

Heyes had similar conversations with nearly every friend. "I really appreciate it, Jim."

"Glad t-to help out, Heyes!" said Heyes' old roommate.

"Heyes, boy you're close now! It's a treat to get to be here for it!" said NG, taking his friend's hand.

"It's wonderful to have you!" said Heyes.

"Wow, I never thought I'd get to testify for Hannibal Heyes!" said the Missouri Kid, his voice squeaking with excitement. Heyes grinned, glad to have Huxtable's support once again.

Heyes stood back and spoke to the gathering, "Everybody, no matter what happens, I sure am thankful to you for coming." Nearly everyone was there – Beth, Cat, Jed, NG, Ev Carter, Huxtable, Tom O'Keeffe, Diana Hargrove, Jim, Polly, Dr. Goldstein, and Dr. Leutze. Heyes was glad not to see Matthias Peale. He, like Cat, could actually put himself and his family in danger by speaking for Heyes. So the former outlaw had made it very clear that he didn't expect or want Peale to come.

Heyes smiled at Diana Hargrove, "Thanks for turning out for me, Diana! I hope it won't cause you political problems!"

"Oh come on, Heyes!" said the English professor, "They all know I'm in your corner!"

"And me, too!" added Tom O'Keeffe, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Just let me at those deans and businessmen! I'll tell'em all how great you are, Hannibal Heyes!"

Heyes' heart was pounding fast as he thought of all the people who were speaking up for him, and counting on him. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Heyes jumped up to answer it. He expected someone from the deans. But it wasn't. "Sheriff Wilde, I sure am grateful to you for coming all this way!" said Heyes in delighted surprise, shaking the law-man's hand. "You haven't heard from Lom Trevors, have you? I've been trying to contract him for days and haven't heard a word back. If anybody but us would hear, it'd be you."

Wilde shook Heyes' hand heartily, but he said, "No, Heyes. I ain't heard a peep out of Lom. So I thought I'd better come myself."

"Hi there, Wilde!" called Curry, coming over to shake his boss's hand.

Heyes called over his Columbia pals. "Hey, NG, Ev, Huxtable, come over here. This is Sheriff Harvey Wilde from Louisville, Colorado. He's the guy who's giving his star to the Kid. We'd sure have been in prison a long time ago if not for him. Not that he didn't make us sweat about it!"

The sheriff smiled as he shook the three graduate students' hands. "Wow, we get to meet a real sheriff!" said Huxtable.

"What, an ordinary sheriff's more excitin' than the most famous outlaws in the whole West?" asked Wilde with a chuckle.

"What, him? Oh, we've known him for years. He's no big deal," said young Huxtable with a humorous wink at the former Joshua Smith.

The Kid and Heyes took a peek out of the door and saw a last solemn figure going into the conference room. The Kid asked his partner, "Heyes, how do you get into things like this?"

Heyes shrugged. "I don't know, Kid. I'm just glad to have you around to help get me out of 'em."

"Fast draw, partner, ain't gonna' get you out of this one," muttered the Kid.

"Guess not, Kid, but I'm glad you're here anyhow," said Heyes. "And by the way, that guy we just saw go in, the guy with the diamond cuff links? That's Robert Harris."

"Union Pacific?" asked the Kid.

"President of the Board. Thought you'd keep up with the railroad news like we used to. When I was still Joshua Smith, Charlie introduced him to me. Can you believe he offered me money for school? Course I didn't dare take it. When I think of the fits we gave those guys! Wonder what he thinks of me now?"

"Guess you're about to find out, Heyes." said Curry, "I'm just glad it ain't me. Good luck, partner!"

The next knock at the door was the one that Heyes had been waiting for. He recognized the university president's young secretary. "Mr. Heyes, they're ready for you and your lawyer. Professor Homer told us about Mr. Cole. Sorry for the wait. President Barnard finally has them all ready. He said to keep it brief. They're restless."

"Brief it is," said Heyes, beckoning Cole to join him. Heyes' heart was racing, but outwardly he looked as calm as if he had been going to crack a safe in the old days.

In the conference room, Heyes found himself standing opposite a long, highly polished mahogany table. The secretary showed Cole to a ladder back chair against the wall behind Heyes. Across from Heyes, at the center of the table sat the grey-bearded president. He was flanked by the very ample Dean Hager of Columbian College on his left, smiling broadly, and the more solemn mustachioed Dean Galbraith of the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences on his right. Heyes hoped at least Dean Hager would be on his side. Three bearded and elegantly suited board members sat along each side of the large table, talking quietly back and forth to each other. Heyes had met only one of them before. He felt utterly unsure of what their reactions would be to him except that some were sure to be hostile. Seeing that the president was ready to begin, Heyes stood respectfully opposite the conference table. He felt nine keen pairs of eyes trained on him.

"Ahem!" The president cleared his throat loudly. The talk around the conference table subsided only gradually. Some of the men at the table were far more powerful, and far, far wealthier than any university president. President Barnard looked around at the recalcitrant board members. He cleared his throat again and achieved something closer to silence.

Finally he spoke in his clear, cultivated New England tenor, "Since everyone is here, Mr. Heyes, Mr. Cole, deans, and gentlemen of the board, I supposed that we had better get started. To put it succinctly, we are here to decide whether Hannibal Heyes may graduate using the credits he earned under his alias, Joshua Smith." Some of the varied board members looked downright hostile – Robert Harris among them. One portly, white bearded gentleman was positively scowling. Heyes suspected that it might be Hibbings Pinkham, president of the Trust Bank of the North East. No banker had ever cottoned to Hannibal Heyes.

The President continued, "There can be no doubt of Mr. Heyes' academic credentials, which are some of the highest ever attained at this institution. His teaching has earned him the annual teaching assistant award. And he has just had an article appear, credited to Joshua Smith, in The Journal of Mathematical Inquiry. We have already met with Mr. Heyes' advisor and all of his professors. Every one of them, Mr. Heyes, praised your hard work and brilliant academic achievements."

Heyes could hardly believe that one of his professors in particular, would actually have praised him. The President, knowing his own professors well, smiled. "Yes, Mr. Heyes every one of them. I know who you are wondering about. Believe me, Professor Reynolds was impressed that, coming from your background, you were able to earn a very honest A from him." The graduate school dean and some of the board members chuckled. They, too, knew Professor Reynolds. "All of these honors and distinctions, gentlemen, are undisputed. The question is whether we may honorably, honestly, and without damage to our institution and its other graduates, grant a BA and an MA to Hannibal Heyes the notorious former outlaw and convicted, but now pardoned, felon."

Heyes had to make an effort to keep his eyes fixed on the men before him, rather than the floor. In this company, the statement of his dirty past was terribly shaming. The President paused. "Mr. Heyes, would you like to make a statement to the board and deans of Columbia University?"

Heyes said quietly but firmly. "Yes, Mr. President. If you will hear me, I would like to speak."

Heyes paused and met the eyes of each of the board members and deans in turn, winding up looking into the eyes of the President. Heyes spoke slowly, by his old silver-tongued standards, wary of his aphasia. He resisted the urge to pace as he would have in a classroom. He kept eye contact with his audience. "Mr. President, Deans, Members of the Board of Columbia University, it has been a privilege for me to attend this university. I cannot dispute that I began my association with this school under false pretenses, through no fault but my own. I wanted an education so that I could earn the honest living. I apologize that I resorted to unfair means to gain that education." Heyes was surprised to see no fidgeting and no loss of attention among his audience.

"There is no excuse that I can offer for my many sins. I came from a difficult background it is true, but so have many men who have lived honest lives. I began my life by making the wrong choices. But in the last seven years I have done everything I can to reverse those early choices. I feel very grateful to have been offered the means to rise from my low background through study at this university. Through the help and support of many people I have been able to transform my life. I lied to them about who I was, and yet not one of them has deserted me on learning the truth.

I am prepared now, if given the opportunity, to use my education to help transform the lives of other men and women. I know from bitter experience that ignorance is a widespread and devastating problem in this country. It was largely due to my own ignorance that I went wrong to begin with. If I can help to educate young people, perhaps I can actually be a helpful influence where once I was nothing but a bane. Gentlemen, I just want to help people. If you will grant me these degrees, I hope to do just that. You may not believe my words. In the past I was too well known for lying. But perhaps you will believe the people who have come here to speak for me. Thank you for listening to me and to them."

Silence fell as Heyes finished. Heyes looked between the faces of the men seated before him. He felt that they were, one and all, considering his words. He hoped so. If they would not simply reject him out of hand, then he had a chance.

Finally the president spoke. "Thank you, Mr. Heyes. Does anyone have questions for Mr. Heyes before his advocates speak for him? You will also be able to ask him questions later."

"Mr. Heyes," asked an elderly, balding board member whom the former outlaw did not know, "how did you turn from outlawry to math? That seems a remarkable transformation, as you phrased it."

Heyes answered readily, "Actually, sir, that wasn't so great a change as you might think. I mean, morally, yes, Mr. Curry and I changed our minds about things over a long period as we started to realize what harm we were really doing. We used to think that if we didn't shoot people, nobody got hurt. We finally figured out how wrong we were. We met a family who'd been ruined by one of our thefts. And some people we liked got killed. We couldn't hide our heads any longer."

"But technically, you might be surprised how important math always was for me. I wasn't just the box man – the safe cracker – for my gangs. I was the guy who made the plans and worked out the logistics for the Devil's Hole Gang. I did it all with math and logic. I got to be pretty expert at figuring out stresses and blasts. A former teacher rode with one of my early gangs and taught me some good math. My specialty is applied math. I always did apply it. I just apply it to much better causes now."

The board member studied Heyes. "So that's why you guys were so much more successful than the other gangs. Efficiency."

Heyes nodded. Clearly, this was a canny businessman who was asking about things he understood from his own firm. Heyes answered, "Yes sir. It works much better to plan carefully than to just ride in and shoot everybody. It sure does less damage."

The balding board member shook his head. "But that's not what I wanted to ask. We know about how you got shot in the head and had to come to New York for medical treatment. We know the plot. But I mean, I'd like to hear in your own words how you decided to come to Columbia. And how you . . . how you dared to think you might be able to teach. That had to be a long stretch from being a robber."

Heyes studied his questioner. The middle-aged man was pretty canny. He was giving Heyes a very useful chance to change how the men on the board saw him, and his past. "Really, teaching's how I got the gang organized to carry out my complicated plans. They aren't the sharpest knives in the drawer, some of those guys. I had to teach them. I even had a black board put up at the Hole, so I could draw maps and diagrams and write things out for the guys who could read. And I taught some of them to read who couldn't before. It sure made it easier to get them to understand plans. When I got to New York and saw how my own teachers – first Miss Warren and then the professors at Columbia – when I saw how much they could do for me. . . Well, I wanted to be able to help other people the way my teachers had helped me. I saw how I could go from hurting to helping, but using stuff I already knew how to do. Got me pretty excited."

There was a thoughtful silence. "Mr. Heyes," asked Dean Galbraith, "you spoke of your difficult background. I understand that your parents and your partner's parents were killed in the Kansas border wars when you were small children. Who cared for you both after that?"

"No one," said Heyes.

Dean Galbraith asked, "Were you not taken into an orphanage, a so-called home for waywards, where they cared for you and educated you?"

"No!" Heyes couldn't hide his fury at that place. "The Valparaiso Home for Waywards didn't take us until I had been shot and my cousin and I had nearly starved to death. They didn't teach us much and I would not term what they did for us caring.

"Are you alleging abuse?" asked Dean Hager in shock.

Heyes hesitated. Finally he spoke in a harsh, low voice. He was only glad that the Kid wasn't there. "I do not want to muddy the waters of this hearing with such allegations. We and the other children were not well cared for. I didn't learn much there except how to pick locks and open windows. My partner and I both learned to shoot and steal. Or to steal and shoot – we stole the guns." Heyes saw some of the board members looking angrily at him as if they blamed him for what the people at the home for waywards had done to him. Heyes' began to flush with anger. But he caught his breath and got himself under control. One wrong word now could doom everything.

Hardin Cole looked at the president and held up his hand. "Sir, I must ask that this line of questioning stop. Now."

The president understood perfectly. He stood up and said. "I would like to ask for a brief pause so I can confer with Mr. Heyes. Mr. Cole, please accompany us, if Mr. Heyes doesn't mind." The President, Cole, and Heyes went into a smaller room next door.

As they got into the little neighboring office, the president spoke very quietly so that no one could possibly overhear. "Mr. Heyes, I don't have any intention of embarrassing you or your partner in front of that panel. But here in private, it would help if I could have some insight so I can protect you as much as possible. What happened to you and Mr. Curry in that place?" Cole, not knowing anything about this, paid close attention to this taut exchange, but did not interfere.

Heyes did not reply. He stood stiffly with his gaze was dull and fixed, looking away from the president and Cole. He stood frozen like that for minutes in mute agony. Finally, the president nodded. "I see. I will route questions as away from that subject."

Heyes wanted to say thank you to the president, but he couldn't speak about anything even distantly related to those horrible memories. Cole nodded his own silent thanks to the president. Finally, the president turned and went back to the board room. Heyes followed him, walking stiffly, his eyes completely blank. Cole watched his client with concern.

Heyes went to stand in front of the table again, his former ease totally shattered. The president cleared his throat. "Mr. Heyes, I understand that you and Mr. Curry escaped from the home for waywards when you were fifteen and he was thirteen years old. Was that when you took up with gangs?"

"Yes, sir." Heyes spoke with complete detachment. "We were starving and some outlaws took us in. They weren't real good to us, but they saved our lives. The Kid tried to go straight after that. I didn't until much later."

One of the board members whom Heyes did not know, a slender sandy-haired man, took the questioning in a new direction, "Mr. Heyes, we hear a lot about angry trouble-causers in this modern world. Would you call yourself an angry man?"

Heyes thought about that for only a moment. "Yes," he said, "I am angry. Very angry. I'm angry that my partner and myself were allowed to grow up in such . . . abysmal ignorance, and that young men and women are still growing up that way. I'm angry that the knowledge they need to have good lives exists, but isn't shared with them. I'm angry at the suffering and neglect that still goes on on isolated farms and in small towns and in the streets of this very city. So I hope my anger isn't useless or destructive any longer. I hope I can turn it to good. I hope I can use it to fuel my work to help the young people of this country."

"Heyes," said Robert Harris, sounding less angry than Heyes had expected, "when we met before, at that reception, of course I didn't know who you were. The president here explained the brilliance of your college work to me in glowing detail. It was impressive to me then. It still is. But can you guarantee us that Hannibal Heyes the Columbia University graduate wouldn't go back to being Hannibal Heyes the outlaw?"

Heyes flushed red. "Mr. Harris, perhaps you noticed when we met that I felt . . . bad about it. I am ashamed of what our gang did to your railroad and the . . . consequences our actions must have had for countless people. But I stand behind the description you were given of me as Joshua Smith. I will not indulge in false modesty. I am not a stupid man. Nor have I wasted the superb opportunities this university has given me to improve myself. I have worked hard here for five years. I'm planning on getting married. I want an honest, secure living for myself and my family. I don't want to be looking behind every bush for sheriffs and posses hunting me. I know what that's like! Few men know it better than my partner and I do! I want the benefits of being an honest and educated man. Now how stupid would I have to be to throw away those years of work and the security I want, for a little easy money? Or even for a lot of easy money? What stronger guarantee for my future good behavior can I offer but my academic record?"

During this speech, Harris's scowl softened only slightly and he said not a word in reply. The white-haired man that Heyes guessed was a bank president asked a high tenor voice, "Heyes, you got a lot of easy money out of banks. Will you really settle for making a professor's salary after that?"

Heyes licked his lips. He fought the urge to reply too hotly. "What we stole was never easy money, sir. It required a lot of planning and a lot of risk taking. And I don't like risks any longer. No amount of money is worth risking our lives. But much more than that, no amount of money is worth hurting other people. If I can actually make money by helping people, that's an awful lot better. That's the basis for having a family. So yes, I'm perfectly willing to put up with a small salary, just so long as it's an honest one."

There was a long pause. Heyes kept thinking that no one there, except perhaps the president and Dean Hager, believed a word that he said.

Finally, the president said, "Gentlemen, if you have no further questions for Mr. Heyes at the moment, we will proceed to his character witnesses. You will be able to further question the subject of his hearing later. The board members nodded.

"Go ahead, Mr. President," said the white-haired board member grouchily, "though I don't know what good it will do to hear from a bunch of his friends."

Heyes wished he dared to reply, saying that the board should consider how he had won such friends.

"Very well, Mr. Heyes, return to the room next door. We will call you when we are ready for you to return. Please send Professor Homer in at once," said the president. Heyes searched the old man's face for clues and found none. The president had not dared to smile at him. Heyes walked the short distance down the hall.

A dozen voices asked variants on, "Heyes, what happened?" ask the retired outlaw stepped through the door into the room full of his supporters.

"How'd it go?" asked Curry.

"I'm not sure. I just don't know," answered Heyes in a dull voice. "Charlie, they want you next. Cole can be there, but I can't. Guess they don't want me to influence what you say. Gonna about drive me crazy waiting! But Charlie, you need to go now." Heyes leaned his head on his right fist as he sat down at a desk in the back row. As Heyes finished speaking, Charlie swiftly paced down the hall. He wanted to have this move along as fast as possible. The longer it took, the more it would torture Heyes and all of his supporters.

Only a couple of minutes later, the President's secretary put his head in the door to the room where Heyes was sitting in silent anticipation surrounded by nervous friends. "Mr. Curry!" called the secretary. "Please come and speak." The Kid touched Heyes on the shoulder as he silently walked by with his jaw tight and his eyes anxious. He might easily have been going to meet a deadly gunman, from how nervous he looked. Heyes couldn't help trying to hear through the wall and figure out what was going on. What were they asking his partner? What was his partner having to say?

A few minutes later, to Heyes' relief, the secretary was back. Surely nothing too bad could have happened that fast. "Miss Christy?" he asked. Cat stood up and followed him out. Heyes, and his friends, were puzzled not to see the Kid return. And they kept worrying about what Cat might be obliged to say.

But Cat Christy did not return either before the secretary returned and called for Dr. Leutze. Obviously the character witnesses who had spoken were not to be allowed to color the testimony of those to speak after them. They must be going to another room after they spoke. Heyes sat in worried silence, wondering desperately what was going on next door. One by one, his friends left him.

At least, only Tom O'Keeffe was left with his former tutor. "Mr. Heyes, you know everybody's got good stuff to say about you. Don't worry! I'll make sure those guys know what a good guy you are and what a great professor you'll make."

"Thanks, Tom! If only they'll believe you," replied Heyes.

When Tom was called away, the room was left with only the one nervous man in it. He got up and paced back and forth to keep his blood moving, much as he had in solitary confinement in prison. Minute after minute went by. There was a much longer wait after Tom was called than after anyone else. Obviously, it was not just Tom speaking. Something else was going on. The board couldn't already be deliberating – they had promised to question Heyes again before that. But what if they had decided that they had no more questions? Heyes paced in rising anxiety.

Finally, there was a familiar knock on the door. The secretary stepped in. "Mr. Heyes, we called a group of your students to speak. They spoke for Joshua Smith. They don't know your real name and they are getting very curious as to why they were called to speak on your behalf. We thought you might prefer to be the person to tell them who you really are."

"Alright," said Heyes, pulling himself back together, "I'm coming."

Heyes found a group of four of his best students, all young men, standing before the conference table. They included the handsome blonde Billy Clark, who was the student who had asked Heyes about why he had trouble speaking when he was teaching.

It was Billy who turned to Heyes. "Mr. Smith, what is this about?" he asked tensely, "Why does the board of the university need to hear from your students? Why are they asking us all these questions?"

Heyes had a hard time meeting the young man's eyes. "Because they need to decide whether or not to grant me my degrees, my B.A. and M.A., Mr. Clark."

"But of course they have to grant you your degrees!" said Billy Clark emphatically, glancing back and forth between Heyes and the board. "Why wouldn't they? And why do you look so worried, Mr. Smith?"

Heyes felt as guilty as he ever had in his life. "I'm sorry you four ever had to get involved in this. The reason, Mr. Clark, and the rest of you, why the board is unsure whether to graduate me is because I lied to them. I lied to nearly everyone. My name isn't Joshua Smith. That's an alias that I've used since my partner and I gave up being criminals. My name is Hannibal Heyes."

Four mouths fells opened. Four young students stepped away from Heyes. One of the other students, a dark-haired, dark-eyed young man named Peter Thorpe, spoke up. "Hannibal Heyes the outlaw?"

Heyes nodded. "Yes, Mr. Thorpe. I'm Hannibal Heyes the former outlaw."

Thorpe now fixed his accusing gaze not on his former teacher but on the board. "How did you dare set an outlaw to teach us? Our parents paid for us to have real, honest teachers! And you gave us an outlaw? And not just any outlaw – the worst outlaw there is! We should sue!"

Heyes studied the floor. He could say nothing to this. The guy had a point. He was voicing some of Heyes' own worst insecurities about himself and his academic career.

Charlie Homer, who had been standing behind the conference table, said, "Peter, Mr. Heyes left crime behind a long time ago. He and his partner have been granted a pardon and amnesty. We assigned him to you as a teaching assistant because he's the best. He won an award for being the best teaching assistant at this university, and he deserved it. His name shouldn't matter. What he can do should. He's one of the finest young mathematicians in the world. He used to use those gifts to steal. Now uses them to teach. What's wrong with that?"

Young Thorpe looked in pain and anger at Charlie Homer. He spoke in a tense whisper. "It was a lie. That's what's wrong. I'm sorry, Professor Homer, but that's what I think." He didn't apologize to Heyes. Perhaps he didn't want to say that name or look into those pained brown eyes.

"I'm the one who's sorry, Thorpe," said Heyes. "If I could turn back the clock and change my past, I would. But I can't."

Charlie Homer said, "If you can prove that anything Mr. Heyes taught you was wrong, go ahead. But if what he's teaching is right, why does it matter who teaches it? Does his name matter more than what he does?"

There was a low murmur among the board members. The president said, "Students, I thank you for speaking. Mr. Heyes did not ask you to come. The request was mine. And it was my responsibility that you were given a teaching assistant whose true name you did not know. If you're mad at anyone, it should be me."

None of the students dared to address the president. "Go on your way, Mr. Clark, Mr. Thorpe, Mr. Pearce, Mr. Hawes, with my thanks. And you are welcome to tell your parents or anyone else what happened here today. We cannot keep this a secret. I would ask you not to speak to the press, but that would be only to protect yourselves personally."

When the students had left, the president addressed the board. "Gentlemen, do you have further questions for Mr. Heyes?"

A board member from whom Heyes had not yet heard, the youngest of the bearded men at the table, asked, "Heyes, why did you ever start these degrees, knowing how this had to end?"

Heyes answered him, "Sir, I have often asked myself that question. I have to say, that since I was a small boy, I've wanted a good education. Until I came to New York, I had no chance to get it. When my tutor at the Leutze Clinic said to me that she thought I would do well in college, I just couldn't resist. I've always wanted to study, and I've always wanted to teach. How I wound up doing something so far from it for most of my life, would be hard for me to tell you. Mostly, I guess it was the accidents of the circumstances around me. I feel like it's only now that I'm getting to do what I was meant to do- if you will allow it. It would be a great favor to me if you would grant me these degrees. But I hope it would also be a favor to my future students. I would try my best for them, always."

The president said, "Gentlemen, I doubt we will ever hear a better conclusion for this hearing than that. Are you prepared to deliberate?" All of the men at the table nodded. "Mr. Heyes, I guess that you had better go next door to wait."

As Heyes turned and went down the hall, he heard someone coming after him with rapid strides. He looked back to find Robert Harris the railroad man looking at him. "Heyes," he said gruffly, "would you consider working for me?"

"Sir?" asked Heyes, baffled.

Harris gave Heyes a keen look. "Seems to me that there would be no one better than a train robber with a gift for math to get the trains to run on time and without being robbed. So would you work for me at the Union Pacific, Heyes? We'd pay you well."

"Sir," said Heyes, "I'm complemented that you would want me. I sure could use the money. But I've promised four governors that I would try to get a teaching position in their states before I go for any other work. And I've promised my fiancé and myself that I will try to teach before I do anything else. So I appreciate the offer, but I can't take you up on it if there's any chance at all that I can teach. Thanks, but no thanks. At least for now."

Harris nodded. And he smiled at Heyes in a way that the former outlaw couldn't figure out. Before Heyes could ask about it, Harris had turned and was walking quickly back to the conference room.

Heyes went and sat by himself in the classroom where his friends had been before. He felt too emotionally drained even to pace. He just sat, staring blankly at the wall. It seemed like a long time went by with Heyes left there alone in silence.

Then there came a familiar soft rap at the door. It was the president's secretary. "Mr. Heyes. Please come back to the conference room with me." Heyes tried to read the young man's features, but he turned away too quickly and walked ahead of Heyes.

Heyes followed the secretary back into the board room. The board, deans, and president sat silent at their table. Heyes stood at attention and waited. All of their faces were impassive. The president finally spoke in a studiedly neutral voice. "Mr. Heyes, you will report to this room at 10:00 tomorrow morning. Thank you."

Heyes could hardly believe it. They were going to make him wait another day for their decision. He felt crushed. But he kept his discipline. He said "Thank you, sir," very quietly. Heyes turned on his heel and walked toward the door.

Just before the former outlaw got to the door, the president called to him, "Mr. Heyes, my secretary has something that you're going to need tomorrow morning."

Heyes turned. The smiling secretary handed him a large soft fabric bundle with a hard flat square on the bottom. Heyes opened one end of the sack and peeked in.

Inside was a voluminous garment made of gleaming soft blue heavy silk. Heyes had never attended a college commencement, but he knew a Columbia University master's gown when he saw it and held it in his suddenly trembling arms. Heyes looked up at the president in disbelief.

"Wear that Columbia blue proudly, young man!" said the president.

His words were followed by a restrained round of applause from the deans and board of Columbia University. They started to their feet and extended their hands, Dean Hager from Columbia College first among them. "Congratulations, Mr. Heyes!" said Dean Hager with a broad smile. "When you said that you were protecting two lives with your silence, I surely never dreamed that one of our students was wanted dead or alive. I can't say how glad I am that is no longer the case."

Heyes gratefully took his hand. "I can't believe it. Thank you! Thank you, Dean Hager, Dean Galbraith, Mr. President and all of you gentlemen! I will strive to be worthy of the honor."

The President was next to shake Heyes' hand. Heyes said, "Mr. President, I'm in your debt. I know you did you best for me."

"I did my best for Columbia, Mr. Heyes," said the president. "I know that you will, as well."

"I sure will!" responded Heyes, aglow with triumph.

Then there was a procession of board members. Even the bank president gave Heyes a handshake, if not a smile. Last came Mr. Harris of the Union Pacific. Heyes said, "Thank you, Mr. Harris." Under his breath he added with a sly wink, "Sir, never try to con a con man. Your offer was one last test, wasn't it?"

Harris said, "Don't be so sure, Heyes. You've turned me down twice, but you may need me yet."