Slight revision.
Only a couple of hours after Heyes had fallen asleep for the second time, the sun was well up and Barbara Dunham was in the kitchen of the Green Tree Hotel frying bacon. Hearing the kitchen door open, Barbara turned from the stove top to look into the brown eyes of Hannibal Heyes. He was sleepy and unshaven, but he looked pretty serious. "Barbara," he began uncertainly, "about your children . . . Beth spoke to me and she was right. I want to . . . apologize for last night. That was too much to tell anyone as young as . . . Curtis. I don't want to . . . scare the little guy. In fact, it was too much to tell anyone. Even Beth hadn't heard quite all of that, and I guess Jed hadn't told Cat some of the details either. I'm sorry." Barbara hadn't heard many signs of his aphasia before, but now the painful pauses were unmistakable.
Barbara stood for a moment, just looking into the former outlaw's anxious eyes. She was glad that the girls were still safely upstairs with their father. "It was hard to hear, Heyes. But it must have been a whole lot harder to live through."
Heyes nodded and cleared his throat. "It was. I . . . I hadn't thought about it all in so long. I've tried . . . not to. We've been . . . hiding it all for so many years. Now that we have to tell the truth and I guess it just had to come out. And your family . . . just happened to be there when it did. I'm awfully sorry. I should have stopped it. I just . . . couldn't. Jed was such a brave little guy back then. And he's so . . . determined to tell nothing but the truth now. After all the lies . . ."
Barbara looked compassionately at her new brother-in-law and said, "He must have been a very brave boy. You must have been, too, Heyes. But do me a favor. Tell Curtis some nice stories, alright? There must be some happy stories that you remember. You're whole lives couldn't have been that bad or you wouldn't be such nice guys."
Heyes gave a little snort of laughter. "Thanks. Yeah, we've had a lot of good times, actually. Before our families were killed. And after we went straight - especially since I've been with Beth, and the Kid's been with Cat. And even sometimes in the Devil's Hole days things were pretty fun – for us, at least. We did enjoy blowing things up. And the money – had a good time with what we could buy with it. We had some good friends and some good times. Sure saw some pretty country, though sometimes we were riding too fast to pay much attention." The pauses between words were becoming less noticeable as he got through talking about a topic that he had been afraid would have his hostess and host very angry at him.
Heyes looked distracted, his mind on the past. Then he looked at Barbara, pulling himself back to the present. "We'll be careful around your children. Some of what seem like pretty funny stories to us are probably kind of grim to other folks. I guess, after a while, we could laugh at almost anything. With the Hole boys, I remember once when we all laughed at a guy who fell off his horse while we were skedaddling from a sheriff. The guy who fell wasn't a nice guy, but we shouldn't have laughed. I think he broke his arm and he sure got hauled in by the law. Might have hung, for all I know. He deserved it. But still, we laughed. I wouldn't laugh now, I hope. Barbara, I will watch what I say around the children. Jed will, too. We don't ever want to hurt or frighten your children. Not ever."
"I appreciate how much you care. Corey does, too. But I'll tell you one thing, Heyes," said Barbara, as she was flipping pancakes, "I think we needed to know some of that. It took a lot to turn you and Jed Curry from farm boys into outlaws."
Just then, Corey Dunham put his head in the kitchen door. Corey was still buttoning his shirt. Heyes was glad to see that the girls weren't with him. Corey smiled, "It sure did, Heyes. It took Hell on earth, didn't it? And I used to think you were just some lazy, selfish stiff fattening off of my sister-in-law!"
"I don't know," muttered Heyes modestly, studying his shoes. "Jed and I like to put our feet up when we can. I got to say, I sure am feeling the need of it now. What with classes, papers, teaching, being arrested, jail, trials, prison, testifying, the hearing at Columbia, graduation, the wedding, and now the job applications – I'm just plain tired. I'm real grateful to you both for giving us a nice, calm, restful place to enjoy."
Barbara laughed. "Restful as long as certain small children don't wake you before the sun's up. I am sorry about that, Heyes."
Heyes laughed more easily, the hoarse edge to his voice fading. "I'd a whole lot rather be woken up by Charlotte than by a posse, or by that awful off-key bugle at the Wyoming Pen. It was a good reminder to me that I've got to watch what I say and do – now and when Beth and I have children of our own. Where are the girls now?" He looked around.
"Cat's watching them. She's great with kids." said Corey.
Heyes broke out laughing at the unintended pun. "I guess Jed's with you there!"
Barbara giggled as she checked on the coffee. As she achieved a straight face again, Barbara said, shaking her finger at her sister's husband, "I have some orders for both of you gentlemen. Relax! You guys need a vacation, and so do Beth and Cat. Working as a sheriff or a professor or doing all those applications can't be easy. And I know teaching and running a hotel aren't. So please – relax and enjoy yourselves. There won't be any bounty hunters or sheriffs or reporters here to plague you. Put your feet up all you like. Sleep late. Take it easy. And eat, for goodness sake! You look almost as starved as you must have been as a boy."
Corey grinned. "My wife's a great cook. You guys are gonna enjoy meals here at the Green Tree."
"We are already." said Heyes happily. "Thank you, Barbara, Corey. We're very grateful to you."
"Pardon me," said Corey, cocking an ear at the young voices he heard from upstairs, "I'd better go finish getting dressed and take the girls off Cat's hands. See you at breakfast." Barbara kept busily cooking.
Heyes looked through drawers in the hotel's kitchen until he found the silverware. He was getting ready to go set the table when Barbara turned suddenly and gently caught his wrist. "I said you're here to rest, Heyes! Stop that. Let Curtis do it. You're on vacation. You don't seem to know what that means."
Heyes eyebrows went up. "I guess I don't. I've never had a real vacation. Well, there was one school break when I tried for a vacation at Christy's Place. But we got chased by a bounty hunter. Wasn't real restful – he had hounds."
Barbara looked sympathetically at her new brother-in-law. She patiently told him. "We'll teach you how to vacation. Right now, you go back upstairs and lie down, Hannibal Heyes. Don't come back until you're really ready for breakfast. It's 6:00 – that's too early for a vacation breakfast. What I'm fixing now is for the guests who get up early for business. They'll be a couple of sit downs before I get to serve the family – and that includes you."
Beth stepped into the kitchen. She leaned forward to give Heyes a kiss on the cheek, despite the early morning prickles. "So, honey, did you talk to Barbara?"
"Yes, love," said Heyes. "You know what? Your sister's an awful lot like you – very understanding. And Corey's an amazingly decent guy. Makes me feel a lot better. I'd thought nobody would ever see anything about me but my awful past. You all give me some hope that maybe someday I'll find someone who might just trust me enough to hire me."
Beth touched Heyes' unshaven cheek. "Now you go back up and rest a while and shave. Then come and get a nice, big breakfast. You're going to need your strength for playing with your nephew and your nieces. And later on for all those job interviews."
"Ha!" said Heyes as he went out the door. They could hear him softly talking sarcastically to himself as he went up the stairs. "If anybody ever decides to interview a damned felon. It ain't never gonna happen."
Barbara shared a troubled look with her sister. "Beth, I hate to say it, but between what you and the boys have told me and what I'm seeing, sometimes your husband reminds me of some of Civil War and Indian War veterans I nursed before I married Corey. Even years after they'd been in battle, they'd still have troubles some of us were sure went back to what they'd suffered on the line. Anxiety. Anger. Trouble sleeping. He doesn't sound bad, but maybe a little trouble?"
Beth nodded slowly, looking worried. "Sometimes more than a little trouble. Heyes is normally a pretty cheerful, even-tempered guy, all things considered. When he gets mad these days, it's mostly at himself. But before he went straight I think he stole out of pure fury at the world that let his family die. He felt the world had something to make up to him. Of course, he and the Kid were always careful not to hurt anyone the way the ruffians hurt his family. His temper doesn't flare up often, but when it does, it's frightening. When he told me who he was, for a moment there I really thought he might hurt me. I don't think he ever would have, really. He apologized later, but it was scary while it was happening. And now he has terrible anxiety about ever getting work. He sits up and frets about whether he'll be able to support me. He worries over how much time he can reasonably put in applying for academic employment before he has to turn to something more likely – like bookkeeping. That would be such a terrible disappointment to him. And he has nightmares. But Heyes has never been in battle."
Barbara shook her head. "After what we heard last night? You don't have to be in the military to go through something just as hard. Or in some ways worse – it's lasted over so many years. They don't have to talk about the posses and the sheriffs and the bounty hunters. The whole country knows about that. And with all they just went through in prison, you've got to look for that to affect them."
Beth seemed to be trying to explain to herself. "Jed seems so happy, like none of it really touches him."
"Not all war veterans suffer that way - just some," Barbara began.
But Beth raised her hand and interrupted her sister, "But it's not how it looks with Jed. Cat says he has bad nightmares sometimes. And his temper isn't too bad now, but Heyes says it used to be terrible. He used to get into fist fights all the time when he was younger, when they were still with the gangs, and even sometimes after they went straight. And he'd draw on men when it wasn't at all a good idea. If he weren't so fast, he'd never have made it. Over the years, he's calmed down a lot. But now, after what happened to them in prison, it does make me wonder, and worry."
This intense conversation was interrupted by a pattering of feet on stairs. The little Dunham girls ran giggling into the kitchen. Cat followed them, breathless with laughter. Barbara and Beth hugged the little girls joyfully, and then turned to happier subjects while they worked with Cat and Curtis to serve breakfast to several guests and watch over the little girls. An hour later, they served breakfast again, this time to their own family.
Despite the drama of the night before, it was a cheerful breakfast in the family dining room. The little girls were full of fun. Sun was pouring in the windows, promising a beautiful day. The Kid stuffed himself happily with pancakes and eggs and bacon. Now no one teased him about it – the stories the previous night had made it all too clear why he had such a love for good food. Heyes eat heartily as well. Curtis was very quiet that morning, watching his new uncles and listening to their every word. He was old enough to know that children should be seen and not heard. The little girls chatted happily with each other and their mother. Charlotte talked to herself and to Virginia while she played with a doll beside her plate.
Heyes had rested and shaved now. He looked much improved. Beth looked happy, too. Heyes asked Barbara, as she sat for a moment between managing the hotel's waiters and feeding her youngest daughter, "Barbara, tell me - how did you and Corey meet?"
Barbara fondly smiled at her husband as she remembered. "I was studying nursing at Columbian University's hospital in Washington. Corey was on the Columbian crew team. Do you know what that is?"
The Kid, with his mouth full, shook his head. Heyes said, "Sure. It's a bunch of guys rowing a real light, long skinny boat on a river – they race against other schools."
Barbara nodded. "Corey caught my eye, out there on the river, rowing in those tight shirts. What muscles! And he was so heroic when they beat Georgetown!" Her husband grinned at his wife. "He tore a muscle on the river one day and came into the hospital when I was on duty. We got to talking. I found out he had a lot more going for him than a handsome face and big muscles."
"She had such gentle hands. Still does," said Corey, touching his wife's hand. "And she was great to talk to about almost anything. Still is that, too."
"What did you study, Corey?" asked Cat.
"Business," answered their host briskly. "This place was in the family. I knew I'd be running it one day. We've got some other businesses in town, too. A dry good store, and a real estate business. Nobody in the family had been to college before. But we could afford it and I thought it would help. The world is changing. A business man needs more education than he used to - when he can get it."
Heyes nodded. He was investing his future in the growing importance of college education.
"He studied business and math," added Barbara.
"Oh?" Heyes looked up alertly from a forkful of eggs. "Always glad to know another numbers guy. What kind of math?"
Corey answered lightly, "Thanks, Heyes. But it's just financial stuff – what you need for bookkeeping and investments. Nothing that would interest you. I don't know much about all that fancy math you do with trigonometry and physics and stuff."
The Kid finished a mouthful and spoke up for his partner, "Heyes knows money stuff, too. He does our books and floor manages whenever he's in town."
Cat said, "Yeah. He set up a great new bookkeeping system."
"Nothing special – just routine double-entry – with a few little features to suit the business," said Heyes.
Cat snorted. "Routine! It was back after he was shot in the head, when he couldn't even talk yet."
That caught Curtis's attention. Heyes could see the boy's eyes fixed on him intently. The ex-outlaw matter-of-factly told his nephew, "Yeah, Curtis. That's why I wound up at Leutze's clinic. A posse was chasing us out in Colorado almost six years back. They'd actually given up on us when some guy was waving his gun around and it went off. I guess it was accidental. The bullet ricocheted off a rock and hit me. Right here, see?" He pointed to the ugly diagonal scar on his left temple. "Or that's what the Kid tells me. I don't remember it at all. That's another lesson in being careful with a gun. Remember that bullets can bounce and hit somebody you didn't intend to hit. This guy wouldn't have minded hitting me, I guess, but he wasn't aiming at me."
Jed took up the story. "Heyes' horse, Clay, saved us, Curtis. He led us to safety through the mountains in the snow and the cold. We were up double on my horse, Blackie, 'cause Clay'd gone lame on the rocks. I put some rope around both of us so I was able to keep Heyes in the saddle while he was out cold. Getting to Christy's Place and having Cat take us in saved our lives. We sure were lucky!" Curry smiled glowingly at his new wife, Then Jed darted a glance at Barbara, who nodded. This story was fine for Curtis to hear, so long as it didn't get any more violent.
The Kid went on, quickly glossing over the bad details, "The doctor patched up Heyes as much as he could. But when Heyes woke up he couldn't talk at all. Or read. Or write. Or understand words at all for a few days. Doc said not to try to talk to him. Once he started to be able to understand, it sure made things a lot easier. And then his head started to heal up and he was able to read. And to write numbers – that's when he started the new book keeping system for Christy's Place. He couldn't write letters, just numbers. Don't ask me why." Heyes shrugged. He didn't understand it either.
"He was amazing," said Cat. "He matched numbers to everything he couldn't write – the names of employees, income, expenses – all number-coded. Heyes figured it all out when he couldn't say or write a word. Pretty brilliant guy, my cousin-in-law!"
Corey was listening with riveted attention. So was his son.
Curtis looked anxiously at Heyes. "Wow, Uncle Heyes! You couldn't talk at all? Weren't you scared?"
Heyes nodded. "Sure I was scared. I was terrified. I didn't know if I'd ever talk or write again. But Jed and Cat took care of me. The posse did come back, but Cat had a secret place where she hid us. And nobody at Christy's turned us in. They sure were great! We're lucky guys, your Uncle Jed and me."
"We sure are." agreed his partner. "And I got a beautiful wife out of the deal, so what could be luckier than that?" He put an arm around Cat and looked at her warmly.
Curtis asked, "How did you get all the way from Colorado to New York and the place where Aunt Beth works, Uncle Heyes?"
Heyes was careful to stay bright and upbeat as he told the story of what had really been such a tough time for him. "Doc Grauer, the doctor in Louisville, sent telegrams all over the place looking for somebody to help me. Took him a while, but he found Dr. Leutze. It happened that Dr. Leutze was at a conference in California someplace, so on the way home he changed his train to go through Louisville. He played poker with me before we were introduced – wanted to watch me, he said."
Curtis was puzzled. "You played poker when you couldn't talk?" Heyes hesitated, unsure how to explain.
"Yeah," said Jed, "he had a bunch of hand signals figured out. They made such sense that everybody caught on real quickly. The doc was plenty impressed, I can tell you. You remember any of those, Heyes?"
"Yeah, sure," said Heyes. "I used to use them . . ." The ex-outlaw paused in his story. It had suddenly occurred to him that stories about playing in the rough dives by the New York docks wouldn't be suitable in mixed company. He went on, awkwardly, "when I was playing with folks in New York who didn't speak English." He demonstrated a few of the signs quickly, translating them into words as he did, "Pass, bet, fold, raise – it's easy, you see, Curtis?"
"Are you going to go next door to the Alehouse and play poker while you're here, Uncle Heyes?" asked Curtis eagerly.
"Your Aunt Beth and I are on our honeymoon, Curtis," said Heyes, taking his wife's hand. "I'm not going to run off and leave my new wife so I can play cards. I hope I'm not that selfish."
"Oh, so you'll leave me to go fishing and shooting with Corey and Curtis, but not to play cards?" asked Beth playfully. "Don't worry about it, husband. If you want to play cards, you go play cards. Not every night, please. There won't be press there. There won't be gunplay. You aren't known. The money's not that much, from what Corey says. I don't see a problem with it, unless you think it would worry the president of Columbia."
Heyes shrugged. "So long as there's no press and no violence, he said it wouldn't bother him if I play some poker. Professors gamble, he said. I'd be careful. We don't have much money to risk. But if I could bring in some money, even a little, that could be pretty nice. So long as you really don't mind, Beth. It's your honeymoon, too, after all."
Beth kissed Heyes. "I don't mind. So long as it isn't every night. I don't have to say be careful. I know you will be. You know our finances."
"They get some decent money in there and good players, Heyes," said Corey. "But I don't guess any of them are up to your standard, or Jed's."
Heyes abruptly changed the subject from this very personal discussion of money. "Kid, you got anything needs mailing?" Heyes asked his partner. "I'm gonna get some letters out the next day or two. I've got to. So I can take anything to the post office with me. I'm gonna run up a regular bill, I'm afraid."
"I can take anything you want mailed!" volunteered Curtis eagerly, interrupting Curry before he could reply. "I always take our mail."
"Thanks, Curtis. It might be better, Heyes," said Curry, "to let Curtis do it - not let folks see your face and your name together." He added, irritably, "And please stop calling me Kid - if you can manage to remember it, Mr. genius."
"You don't have to be so touchy about it, partner. I'll keep trying" said Heyes, once he had finished a mouthful of eggs. "I ain't any more perfect than anybody else. It's been, what, 24 years? 26? And you can cut out the stupid genius stuff, yourself."
Corey and his son exchanged a little smile at the sniping between the famous cousins. They sounded a lot like Curtis and his little sister when they argued.
Heyes cautiously instructed his nephew, "Curtis, if you carry my letters, be sure not to let anyone see my name on them."
"Yes, and don't tell anyone what you're carrying," added Corey.
"Of course, Pa," said Curtis. "I hope I know that much."
"Don't be fresh to your pa!" said Barbara, turning from where she was feeding eggs to Virginia on her high chair.
Curtis looked shamed and said, "I'm sorry, Pa."
Heyes said, "I'm sorry, too. Barbara, Corey - I'll be glad carry my own letters. I don't want to involve your son in anything that bothers you. But all the letters are perfectly normal stuff – job applications, letters to my lawyers, to my friends who had to miss the wedding, letters to people who might recommend me, even one replying to a governor about how I want to change my name. There's nothing shady. It's just my name, you know. I don't want to flash it around before we're sure the word on the amnesty's out."
"It's not a big deal, Heyes," said Corey, surprising both former outlaws. "I've got no problem with Curtis' carrying your letters to the post office, if he wants to do it."
"Folks," said Cat, as she poured syrup on a new pile of pancakes, "please don't hesitate to tell us if having us here causes you trouble in any way at all. No matter what we do, the boys' names are going to get out and it's going to bring attention like you might not want for your family and your place. We know all about that. We'll be coping with it back in Louisville, ourselves."
Barbara said, "Just ask if you want to know how we feel. We're your family and we know that we'll have to deal with those names, no matter when and how word gets out. But do be careful. With the amnesty so new, you guys will have to watch your backs."
Heyes and Curry traded a weary glance. "Don't worry, Barbara," said Curry, "We've been doing that since forever."
Heyes wiped his mouth. "Nice breakfast, Barbara. Thank you very much. Need help with the dishes?"
"Heyes!" exclaimed his sister-in-law, "how often do I have to say it? You're here on vacation, not to work. We can do the dishes like always, right Curtis?"
"Not as though we're not used to doing dishes and other chores, me and Jed both," said Heyes.
"Really? You guys do dishes?" asked Curtis, fascinated by this glimpse into outlaw life.
"Of course," said Heyes. "We've done about every kind of work there is – gold mining, body guarding, expedition guiding, drover, ranch hand."
Curry took up the litany, "And we've done every kind of thing around Christy's Place – the place that Cat and I run. Clear tables, wash dishes, make beds, clean out stalls, empty honey pots, deal cards, straighten out arguments."
Heyes added, "With the Kid's gun hand, he's a real whiz at making guys suddenly agree. And, of course, I was a teaching assistant at Columbia. Got all sorts of dull chores to do, from grading papers right down to cleaning up the lounge for the grad students."
"Golly!" said Curtis. "You aren't just saying that so I'll do my chores?" Beth was smiling with pride where her nephew couldn't see. She was thinking of the high authority with which her husband had been entrusted during this supposedly dull teaching assistant work.
"'Course not. We ain't too proud to do what needs doing." The Kid tousled his nephew's hair. "You always do your chores, don't you?"
"Yes sir!" Curtis asserted stoutly.
"Curtis hides in the barn an' reads!" lisped Charlotte.
"Charlotte!" cried Curtis in annoyance. His parents both laughed. It was no news to them.
"You'd better do your chores!" said the Kid, winking at his adoring nephew. "That is, if you want me to teach you to shoot. I wouldn't teach a lazy, useless guy. What would be the use? We'll go out this afternoon, once you've got your chores done. I've got a few myself. Sheriff paper work." The Kid wrinkled his nose. "I hate it, but I got to do it."
Most of the family left the breakfast table. Beth and Heyes went up to their room. But the Kid was eating one more pancake and having one more cup of coffee when he noticed little Charlotte staring at him. He wasn't sure how much she had really noticed about the conversation between the adults. But evidently, she had been paying more attention than anyone had thought.
Charlotte asked solemnly. "Uncle Jed, why does Uncle Joshua call you Kid? You aren't a kid. You're all grown up."
"That's right, Charlotte," said the Kid, just as solemnly. "But lots of folks call me Kid. My partner, your Uncle Joshua, gave me that name when I wasn't much older than your brother Curtis. It just stuck."
"An' why do you call Uncle Joshua Heyes?"
"Because that's his name. Joshua isn't really his name. He wants to be Joshua, but a judge has to give him permission. It's complicated, honey."
Charlotte's eyes were wide. "Is he Hand'ibal Heyes the outlaw Curtis talks about? And are you Kid Curry?"
Barbara and Jed were the only adults left at the table and Curtis was long gone to his chores. Barbara was clearing the table. The two adults stared at each other, flummoxed for a moment by the frank question. Barbara nodded to Jed. So he said. "Yes, honey, I am. I'm not an outlaw any more, though. Heyes and I are honest men now. We don't rob people any more."
"That's really you? Out'a Curtis's books?"
"Yes, Charlotte. But we don't want to hurt anybody."
"Truly?"
"Yes, honey. Truly."
"Are you teasing me like Curtis does?"
"No. I really, truly am Kid Curry and your Uncle Joshua is Hannibal Heyes and I sure ain't teasing you at all."
Curry was sweating as he looked at Barbara and then down at her daughter and back. Facing off with a three-year-old girl was harder than facing any gunman he had ever stood opposite in a dusty western street. Now that her Uncle Jed had fessed up, little Charlotte smiled sweetly and skipped out the door after her mother. Having outlaw uncles didn't seem to bother her at all. Curry laughed in relief.
Curtis was already off to sweep floors and curry horses with a keenness that hadn't been seen from him in some time. Barbara was in the kitchen with her sister and Cat. She smiled to see the busy Curtis running back and forth to the outbuildings on errands that she had often seen get only a dawdling walk. He was at it, working hard all morning. But as lunch time drew near, the boy climbed the stairs of the Green Tree Hotel to the third floor.
Curtis looked in the door of the Kid's room. He found his blonde uncle cursing over a pile of papers. Curtis withdrew before Jed even saw him. If it was that bad, he didn't want to bother his Uncle Jed even worse. He didn't want to mess up the possibility of shooting lessons.
Next, Curtis peeked shyly in the door of the Heyes' room. He found his darker uncle piled up on the bed with a lap desk and a fountain pen. The man was surrounded by piles of papers and foreign language dictionaries. He was biting his lip and studying a piece of stationary on the lap desk. Curtis stepped into the room tentatively, afraid of disturbing Heyes. The former outlaw looked up and smiled. He gestured for his nephew to come on in and moved some piles of books so he could get up beside him. Curtis looked at the paper in front of his uncle. "I can't read it, Uncle Heyes."
"No wonder. It's in German. I'm writing to a German math professor who's been helping me. He's at a university in Munich – that's a German city. I haven't told him, or any of the guys I write to in Europe, my real name. But I've got to. If I can get any of them to recommend me for jobs, it would be a real help. I'm sure not counting on it."
Curtis looked thoughtfully at his uncle. "What do you think they'll do when they find out who you are, Uncle Heyes?"
"Drop me like a hot potato," said Heyes with a bitter edge to his voice. "Except maybe Professor Heintzelman, the guy in Munich. He likes anything about the West. So maybe he'll be decent about it. Or maybe not. I don't know. It's hard for me to write about it in German. My German's not too bad, but I know a whole lot better how to talk about math than about trials and prison. Professor Heintzelman sure won't be expecting it."
Curtis was intrigued. "I guess not. How are you telling him?"
"Just being honest and hoping that does the trick. He wrote to me while I was on trial. He was thinking I was still in New York finishing my degree, you know. He's been waiting for an answer. Takes a long time for letters to get back and forth to Europe on ships. If I wait too much longer, he might get mad at me. I sure don't want that. He's a nice guy, so far as I can tell in letters. The other guys I write to in Europe might never have heard of Hannibal Heyes, but I'm betting Heintzelman has. How he got so interested in our West, I don't know. He's never been across the Atlantic. He's always asking me about Indians and cattle drives and stuff. I'm afraid I know a lot more about picking locks and blowing safes than what he wants to know."
Curtis tilted his head in puzzlement. "So you've never been cowboys, you and Uncle Jed?"
"Sure, we've been on cattle drives and worked on ranches. But we aren't real professional cowboys. It's a side line for us."
Curtis looked curiously at the letter in German. "Uncle Heyes, would you read your German letter to me, in English?"
Heyes looked quizzically at his nephew. "Are you really interested?"
"Yes, sir. I'd like to know how you tell somebody like that who you are."
"Um, well, if you're that curious," said Heyes, sounding uncomfortable.
Curtis could tell that he was somehow bothering his uncle. "What's wrong, Uncle Heyes?"
"You wouldn't tease your uncle, would you?"
"What?" Curtis looked worried. Why would anybody in their right mind tease Hannibal Heyes? He wouldn't dare.
Heyes spoke uncomfortably, "I, um, after I got shot in the head – I have a real hard time reading aloud. And translating from German while I do it is even harder. So either I go real, real slow or I don't do it at all. You still want me to read it to you? It's not real interesting, honestly. You'd have to be very patient with me."
"Yes, sir, please. I'm sure I can learn something. Ma says it's good to learn however you can. And I sure won't tease you, Uncle Heyes. Ma says you should never, never tease anybody for something they can't help."
Heyes studied his nephew. "That's a good way to see it. I agree with your ma. Sorry to be slow. And sorry for the formal language in the letter, but he is a German professor, you know. And I need to come off as a professional academic myself – you know, like a professor - when I write to him. That's how I want to make my living." Curtis stared at Heyes with fresh eyes. He hadn't thought of Hannibal Heyes as a professor. Heyes spoke very slowly indeed, with lots of hesitations while he translated his own German back into English.
He started, "Here goes:
Dear Professor Heintzelman:
I apologize for the long delay since my last letter. I must explain to you with complete honesty. Since I last wrote to you, I have been away from New York most of the time. I have been in Montana and Wyoming dealing with some legal difficulties.
I am sorry to say that I have been writing to you under alias that I have used for some years because my real name is too well known in the wrong way. Yes, my cousin of whom I have told you, and I used to work outside the law. I apologize for deceiving you, as I deceived everyone. I hasten to assure you that my cousin and I are perfectly law-abiding citizens now and we have been for many years. We want to remain honest always in future.
I was in Montana being tried for murder. I was found innocent – they found, rightly, that I shot the man in self-defense. But then my partner and I were arrested and taken to Wyoming to be tried for past crimes of which we were only too guilty. We were sentenced to 20 years at hard labor for armed robbery."
Curtis gasped softly and stared at his uncle, hearing him say this awful phrase in such a matter-of-fact tone. Heyes smiled comfortingly at his nephew and then went on.
"And after that there were many additional crimes that would have fetched the same sentence. We were taken to the Wyoming State Penitentiary in Laramie. There we began to serve our sentences with no expectation that we would ever be free men again.
However, after we stopped stealing, we were often of service to the law. We captured criminals and turned in stolen money, among other things. Therefore, we were granted amnesty when we had served only three days of our sentences. We feel very fortunate, since we certainly deserved every day of our sentences.
After we were released from prison, my cousin Jedediah and I remained in Laramie for a few days swearing out testimony against a dishonest warden. Then we returned to New York. There I was given a hearing by the board of Columbia University so that they could determine whether or not to grant me my degrees. Once they had heard from many witnesses, they determined that I would be allowed to graduate. At that time, I found out that I had won the award for the best teaching assistant at the University. I am proud to say that I graduated summa cum laude."
Heyes interrupted his own letter to say, "Sorry if it sounds like bragging, Curtis. But if I want him to recommend me, he needs to know all the good academic stuff I can tell him."
"What summa cum laude mean?" asked Curtis.
Heyes slightly corrected his pronunciation, "Summa cum laude is Latin for with the highest honors. So he needs to know that."
Heyes took back up with his labored translation from the German, "At my graduation ceremony, my cousin was named the sheriff of Louisville, Colorado. I am very proud of him. He is a good man. You will surely have heard of him, since you are so knowledgeable about our western outlaws. I fear that you may have heard of me, as well, for only bad reasons from my past.
After my graduation, I married my fiancé, Elizabeth Warren. And my cousin married his own betrothed, Catherine Christy. Now we are enjoying a honeymoon together at my wife's sister's lovely home in rural West Virginia. It is a beautiful place and the family is being very welcoming to us.
I am applying for professorships. I would be very glad if you would see fit to write me a letter of recommendation. However, I will easily understand if you would prefer not to write in support of a man who has been deceiving you for so long about his identity and who is guilty of so many serious crimes. I am determined to have an honest future, but I cannot blame people for having a difficult time forgetting my past. Look at the name I will sign to this letter and please let me know your feelings.
Now, in answer to your last mathematical inquiries . . ."
"That's it Curtis. Whew! That was hard. How do you think he'll react when he sees my name?"
Curtis laughed. "I bet he'll fall over in a dead faint. And – I'm sorry I made you sweat. Thank you for reading that for me."
"No problem, Curtis. I need the practice." Heyes cleared away enough books so he could get off the bed. He got to his feet with a little grunt when his sore hip came into play. "Now let's go ask your Ma to give us some lunch. Then we'll see if the Kid is up to teaching you a little something about guns. Just remember – the most important thing is when not to shoot."
"And that's most of the time. I won't forget, Uncle Heyes!"
