When the Kid stopped laughing, he asked his partner, "You want to tell me about these plans you got? What's my part?"

The darker ex-outlaw remained cautious, speaking over the telephone in the days when there wasn't even a pretense of privacy. Half a dozen operators could be listening in to a call between such celebrities. "We'd appreciate it if we can stay with you and Cat a while; you know that. That's the main thing - a safe place for Beth while I – well, while I do what I need to do. I'll tell you more when we get there – when I've got it all set in my mind. Nothing bad, sheriff, don't you worry. Just a chance. Or two. Maybe."

The Kid tried not to sound worried. "Alright, partner. You folks stay as long as you like. And you tell me what you got to tell - when you're sure." The Kid paused, then asked uneasily, "Could I talk to Beth?"

"Still don't trust me, eh?" Heyes didn't keep the hurt pride out of his voice. "Got to check my story, sheriff?"

"Aw, Heyes," moaned Jed.

Heyes' voice was weary and resigned. "Sure. I'll get Beth. Thanks for putting us up. Give my love to Cat."

The sheriff tried to sound more cheerful, in hopes it would rub off on his partner "Thanks. See you folks soon."

"Thanks, boss." The Kid's partner threw the last word in sharply.

Jed tried to ignore the sarcastic jab from his older cousin. But he couldn't keep a little edge of irritation out of his voice. "You, Beth, and Charlie have a good ride on the train. Bye."

But the older cousin replied with the sudden spark of enthusiasm that Curry recognized as marking a freshly hatched Hannibal Heyes plan, "Say, Jed, you should call your new place the "Colt and Safe" or something like that - attract the eastern tourists going out to experience the 'real West.' I run into plenty of western enthusiasts in New York, some of them with a lot of money. You know how the railroads are playing on it."

"You serious?" Curry asked, surprised.

"Maybe, Kid," said the Kid's partner, his enthusiasm cooling as he thought more about it, "if the governors don't object. You know, profiting from our crimes. Those little pictures are one thing, but a whole hotel might be something else."

Curry thought about this. "Hm. Still, might be an idea - make a good thing out of who we used to be. I had been worrying our names might keep decent folks away, at least at first. I'll think it over, and see what the governors think."

"Alright," said Heyes, sounding happier than he had only minutes before. He was pleased to have his partner give his idea a chance. "I'll go get Beth. Now don't you get shot or anything. A broken leg is enough and more than."

"You watch out for yourself, too," said the sheriff. His voice dropped. "You know the T-Ds have their eyes on us." He used an abbreviation for the Teasdale brothers, falling into the cautious mode the partners had long used for potentially dangerous communications. "You know how to keep things quiet."

"Yeah." Heyes certainly did know, as well as any man alive.

"Bye. And if I could talk to your wife?" The sheriff reminded his partner.

"Sure. Bye." Heyes put the telephone hand set carefully on the table and went to get Beth from the landing in front of the door.

The ex-outlaw was subdued as he told his wife, "Beth, the Kid wants to talk with you. Thinks he needs to check up on me."

She gave her husband an encouraging kiss, and made sure he went into their own apartment, not out the front door. Then she went in to talk with his partner.

Beth got straight to the point. "Hello, Jed. Heyes said you're checking up on him. Did he tell you about that glass of whiskey he poured out at Rory's Place and didn't drink?"

"You mean that's the straight truth?" Jed asked in surprise.

Mrs. Heyes was happy to confirm her husband's word. "Yes, it is true. He smashed the glass against the wall rather than drinking the contents. Harry, the bartender at Rory's Place, told Charlie and Paul the whole story before they caught up with Heyes. Or rather, before he caught up with us back at the apartment. And yes, Heyes came back on his own, stone cold sober."

"Wow, he's never straightened out that fast before." Jed inquired, "Being married to you is good for him. He said he went someplace after that bar, but he wouldn't tell me where."

Beth was rather touched that Heyes would tell her some things he wouldn't tell his partner. "Then I won't tell you, either, but just out of respect for my husband's feelings. It's no place you need to worry about, I promise you. Quite the contrary."

The Kid didn't quit on his attempts at research, however. "Heyes said he had some kind of plans for when you folks get here. Something he wants to do. Or needs to do. You know what he's talking about?"

"No. Not specifically. But I don't have to tell you he's anxious to make as much money as he can as fast as he can so he can support the baby and me. You know how obsessed he is about money. He always has been I suppose, and now with the baby coming, he's worse. He's got some kind of scheme in his head, I guess," Beth speculated.

"Yeah, he always was crazy for cash. Even more than me. But don't use that word 'scheme' with Heyes," The Kid cautioned his partner's wife. "He likes to say 'plan.' There was a guy once, Harry Waggoner, wanted to join up with our gang. Harry came up with the craziest schemes you ever heard. Kidnapping the President - nutty stuff. Heyes couldn't stand him. We sure didn't trust him. Heyes ran into him again in prison."

Beth laughed. "I do know your partner, Jed. He told me about Harry and the time he and his girlfriend had you hostage. Seems like my man specializes in getting you out of things like that. And you specialize in getting into them." She playfully teased her cousin-in-law.

The Kid groaned. "I ain't trying to. Well, I better run along. We got plenty to do and I know you do, too. We're looking forward to having you here in four days. By the way, we're gonna put you folks up in the guest room in our new house outside of town. It'll be all ready by the time you get here. Thought you'd like it to keep Heyes out of the saloon in the evenings. And we should have that straight hotel right soon."

"I'm grateful to you, Jed. That's a fine idea. I appreciate it. But also, I'm so glad you've got that house for Cat and the baby. I'm sure it will be a great place to start your new family." Beth could almost hear Jed Curry smiling, as he did any time his wife and the coming baby were mentioned.

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The smile faded from Curry's lips as he realized that Al Kelly had come into the office from the cell area during this telephone call. Curry had been speaking loudly so his voice could be heard over the crackling phone lines. The deputy looked at the sheriff uneasily. His boss looked back with just as much discomfort.

Curry said softly, "Al, you must of heard what I was saying to Beth Heyes."

The handsome blond deputy tensed as he tried to get out of this awkward situation. "No, boss, I wouldn't listen in to . . ."

The sheriff interrupted his deputy. "You ain't deaf, you had to hear me, Al. I know you didn't mean to." The sheriff wasn't angry. He just faced facts. "Heyes wouldn't want you to know, but you need to." Kelly's usually smart aleck smile was nowhere to be seen as his boss told him, "He, um, has a little trouble with the bottle sometimes, when things are tough. Well, more than a little. Just now and then."

"Including now?" Kelly guessed.

The Kid nodded. "Yeah. Pretty generally, when he starts, he can't stop. This time seems he's not near as bad as I've seen him. But when he gets here, you got to keep an eye out. Help us keep him away from the booze. Just don't be obvious about it unless you got no choice. Heyes may not be a mean drunk, but he's pretty fierce when he's mad. If he thought I'd told you about this stuff, he'd be about as mad as twenty dozen hornets. Joe, our bartender knows about Heyes and drink, though he's never seen it. I'll make sure Billy knows, too. And I've told Cat, of course. But please, Al, keep it to just those folks."

"You bet, boss," Al agreed readily. As an alcohol abuser himself who still fought his evil urges daily, he was all on the side of the recovering drinker. "I don't want to kill off Heyes' chances of getting hired to teach."

The Kid explained, "Thanks. If he gets some help, like he is, Heyes can get off the bottle real good. I mean, before this, he hadn't touched a drop of the hard stuff in more than seven years."

"Wow! I hope I can do that good," Kelly said to himself as he went back to his desk.

Jed Curry left his deputies in charge of the jail and headed down the street as fast as his crutches would carry him. He found his wife making beds in the upstairs guest rooms of Christie's Place. "Should you be doing all that leaning over and stuff, five months along with child?" the sheriff asked protectively.

"Stop worrying, Daddy," said Cat as she fluffed a pillow. "I feel great. What brings you over here this time of day? You already ate lunch. Is everything alright?"

"Heyes called."

Cat looked up from the bed in concern. "Jed?"

Curry said, "He's doing better, from what he and Beth say. But we'll still have to watch him like a couple of hawks. They're heading this way in the morning, so we'll see them on Sunday. Charlie's coming along to help watch Heyes. Beth's glad about the house, like we thought."

"That all sounds good. We'll have the house ready when they get here, and should have the new hotel soon afterwards, if we get that loan. So what's wrong?" Cat asked.

"Who said anything's wrong?" asked Jed testily.

Cat looked frankly at her husband. "I do know you reasonably well, Jedediah Curry. I can hear your voice. What is it?"

Jed let out his anger and worry. "Heyes got away from Beth and all those friends of theirs three times in two days. Three times! All they had to do was keep him in an apartment with one door. How are Beth and Charlie gonna deal with that slippery devil on a train for four days? Do you know how much whiskey gets sold under the table on trains?"

Cat said, patiently, "Yes, I do know. I'm in the business. Remember? And I bet Beth and Charlie will do fine. They must have learned a bit in the last two days and they're both pretty sharp. I trust them, and what's more, I think you do, too. What's really bothering you?"

"Oh, Heyes." Curry said the name like a curse.

"You mean, more than usual?" Asked Cat mildly.

The Kid spat out, "Aw, he feels like it's gonna kill him for me to be his boss."

"Did he say that?" Mrs. Curry was taken aback.

"Nah. Course not. He just - he called me 'boss' like he hated the idea worse than being locked in jail." Jed's voice was full of hurt.

"Come on, Jed," said Cat, taking the hand of her wounded husband. "You told me yourself that Heyes is used to being in charge."

"That's just it!" griped the Kid. "He's always been in charge. Since we were boys, he's been the top man about everything. In school, in the gangs, on all the odd jobs we worked. Just because he's older – two little years older. What difference does make for guys who are thirty-six and thirty-eight?"

"None at all," said Cat soothingly. "You've just been graceful enough not to fight with him about it because you're a good man. And weren't you really pretty equal at Devil's Hole and the other gangs?"

Jed admitted, "Sure we were, day to day. We settled on things together or he'd ask me, if he wasn't sure about something. And when we went straight, it was the same. But let it really matter, and he's gotta be on top. He resents the heck out of me. Like it was my fault that I finally get to be in charge for a little while. It's like it'll kill him to take an order from me now and then. Or if I just ask him to do stuff. I'd ask nice. What's so bad about that?"

Mrs. Curry leaned warmly against her husband. "He's hurting, Jed. His manly vanity has taken a lot of blows in the last few days. Having his little cousin boss him around is the last thing he wants."

"I won't be bossy, but I do got to get work done. He oughta know that." Jed complained.

"He does, but give him a little time and space. He's a man. So he isn't always reasonable. Like somebody else I know." Cat said sagely. "And what do you want to bet he won't be working for you very long? He'll find his own way. Now you go back and enforce the law, honey lamb. I've got rooms to clean."

Kid Curry kissed his wife and limped his way downstairs. He walked down the street with his crutches far slower than he had come the other way. He had a lot to consider.

Hours later, after Cat gas brought him dinner at his office, the sheriff went to do a round of the rapidly darkening streets of Louisville. His head was full of plans and questions centered around his partner, Beth, and the two children on the way. The sheriff was muttering to himself, "Damn that Heyes, why's he gotta slip up now?"

He suddenly stopped, realizing that he wasn't really seeing the street. Then he was sure. Something was wrong.

There was a man in a black hat standing boldly in the shadowy street in front of the jail. He had a gun tied down at his hip. His right hand was poised above the ivory grips, showing pale even in the gathering darkness.

"Hey there, old man." The stranger sneered.

There was a tiny movement of the stranger's gun hand, hardly visible in the dusk.

There were two rapid bangs and the light crack of a crutch hitting the street. The strange gunman lay moaning in the dust, clutching his right hand. His gun lay a yard away, knocked from his grip by Curry's precise shot.

"My God, how'd you get that fast?" croaked the wounded stranger in awe-struck tones as his blood pooled in the dust. He looked very white in a patch of light from a street lamp.

"Practice," said Kid Curry, as cool as ever. He recognized the scar on the stranger's neck and the mole on his cheek. But the arrogant look Curry remembered from their previous encounter was gone from the gunman's eyes as the young man stared in horror at his ruined hand.

Billy Healy dashed from the jail into the street. He looked at the man lying in the dirt and then at the famous gunman who stood leaning on one crutch. "Sheriff?"

Curry said, "Deputy Healy, kindly pick up Cody Laurence's pistol and take it into custody as evidence. Yeah, he dropped a loaded gun in the street. Very careless. Then you and Al haul the Green River Kid in and lock him up for attempted murder of an officer of the law. And remember that he's wanted in Wyoming. But do it fast. Leave the paperwork for later. Get over to the bank. Give a yell if you need me."

"Don't you want me to call the doctor?" Asked the wide-eyed deputy.

"No need," said Curry, seeing his friend Doctor Grauer arriving at an anxious trot with his medical bag in his hand. "You boys get right to the bank."

"You can't move this man!" proclaimed the doctor to Billy, and to Al who had come running down the street.

Curry quickly agreed. "Alright, Billy, leave him with the doc and me. Get to the bank now!" The two deputies ran over to the bank, slowing to approach more cautiously as they got near it. The sheriff remained standing with his prisoner, keeping a cocked gun trained on the Green River Kid.

"Did you have to shoot him, Jed?" griped the medical man, sounding prickly as he knelt in the street. "Hold still, young man." He murmured as he bound up the wound as best he could. "Tut tut. You'll never shoot with that hand again. Or do much else with it, unless I can work a miracle." Laurence looked distressed, but said nothing. He was barely conscious, gasping in shock.

"Yes, the sheriff did have to shoot, or he'd be dead," said a middle-aged man in a threadbare suit. He was swiftly crossing the street to give his version of events. "I saw the whole thing while I was headed down from the stage station to the hotel. That guy drew on the sheriff before the sheriff got anywhere near his gun. Man, sheriff, you sure are fast! How you beat him after the start he had on you, I'll never know."

"Well, he is Kid Curry," said the doctor gruffly as he finished bandaging his patient. The witness's eyes bugged out at that.

"Who are you?" Asked the Kid without turning from the man he had shot.

The witness spoke in a strained voice, frightened to meet so famous a western character. "My name's Geoff Strauss. I'm on my way to Denver."

"Strauss, can you help me get this man back to my office?" Asked the doctor.

"Sure," Strauss agreed.

"Could you please come back here after that, Strauss?" Asked the sheriff. "I'd like you to swear out a statement about what happened, if you would."

Strauss looked delighted to have Kid Curry speak to him. "Sure, Mr. Curry. I wouldn't want you to be up on charges when you were just defending yourself. Would you sign something for me?"

"Sign something?" Asked Curry, puzzled.

The doctor broke in. "Jed, stop bantering with this guy. We have to get your prisoner to my office right now so I can sew him up. I might be able to save that trigger finger if I act fast. It might not work real well, but maybe he can keep it."

"Sure, move along then," said Curry. The doctor and Strauss awkwardly carried the fallen gunman just down the street to the doctor's office while Laurence anxiously cradled his heavily bandaged hand.

"Who is this guy, anyhow?" Strauss asked the doctor as they carried Laurence in the doctor's door.

"A murderer," said Doctor Grauer casually.

The sheriff followed and made sure the wounded gunman was safely handcuffed to an iron bedstead while the doctor worked. Then Curry hurried back to his office.

Soon after Strauss had finished sweating out his statement and gone to tell his story in the saloon, Al and Billy arrived escorting a pair of men from the bank at gunpoint. "Well, here they are. Boss," asked Healy in wonder, "how'd you know it was a bank robbery?"

The Kid grinned. "Heyes and I pulled the same thing, once. I called out the sheriff while Heyes opened the safe, back before we were with the Devil's Hole Gang."

"Did it work?" Asked Al as they locked the men in the cells, "Get in there, you!"

"No," said Jed, still smiling.

Later that night, Jed Curry went home to his wife. As they got onto their bedroom, Cat said with concern, "So I heard you had to shoot a man."

Jed was sitting on the bed unbuttoning his shirt. "Yeah. He was waiting in the street to call me out. It was that guy who came to threaten me and tell me the Teasdale Brothers were after Heyes and me."

"It wasn't the Teasdales robbing the bank, was it?" Asked Cat as she unbound her long blonde hair and let it fall around her shoulders and down her back.

"No. Guess they paid him to say that, trying to throw us off, make us look for them together. This was two guys I never seen or heard of." Jed finished with his shirt and leaned down to unbutton his wife's shoes. Her belly was big enough now that she needed help.

"The man you shot didn't, um, he didn't die, did he?" Cat asked cautiously.

Jed rubbed his wife's back a bit as he helped her to unbutton her dress. "No. But the doc said he won't get much use out of his trigger finger after this. I shot it half off."

Mrs. Curry swallowed hard. Her stomach was delicate in her condition and the mental picture was nasty. "Did you mean to?"

"Yeah. Thought it might not be a bad place to get him. No second shot." The Kid was still undoing buttons.

"But such a risky shot!" Cat was appalled. "Didn't you worry you might miss?"

"At the angle I was shooting, if I had missed his finger I would have likely gotten him in the belly or the hip. Not bad enough to kill him, but no second shot. No, that wasn't what had me sweating."

"Then what was?" Cat looked at her husband in concern.

"When I was walking that patrol, I had my mind so much on family stuff, the loan for the hotel, that kind of stuff. You know. I wasn't really watching. I didn't see that guy Laurence till I was awful close. And I almost didn't see him starting in to draw. It was getting dark and it was hard to see." Jed sounded very uneasy, even ashamed

Cat put her arms around her husband. "Jed, I know you love me and the baby, and Heyes, but don't you ever think to that much about us when you're on duty. Keep your mind on your work. We need you alive!" She kissed her husband soundly, having been reminded all too vividly of what danger he was in every day.

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"I got to go, Josh," said Ev Carter sadly to his western friend as the others continued moving things out for another load on the wagon. "Betsy's mother's in town and we're going to dinner."

Heyes stood awkwardly in his tiny parlor, looking uncomfortably at his friend. "Thanks so much for all your help, Ev. You've been in my corner ever since you fought for me before we'd even met. I'm gonna miss you an awful lot."

"We'll miss you here, too," said Carter, pushing his long, blond hair out of his eyes with a habitual gesture. "I wish you and Beth could be there when Betsy and I get married."

"Me, too, Ev," said his former safe-cracker friend. "Be happy, you two. Give Betsy a kiss for me, will you?"

"With pleasure, Joshua," said Carter. He shook his friend's hand. "You take care. What is it you cowboys say? Adios."

Heyes gave a half smile. "Yeah. Go with God. Adios, my friend. Ev, could you, uh, please keep news about our move to just the folks here – the ones who already know?"

"Sure, but why the secrecy? I thought you were all out of trouble from your past. Except needing a job." Ev was worried now.

Heyes gave his friend a look that blended sorrow with a firm warning. "Out of trouble about our past? I don't think that's ever gonna happen. But leave that to me and Jed, will you?"

Ev couldn't erase his concern, "If that's how you want it, I don't guess I can change your mind. You and the Kid are pretty stubborn. Just you do keep in touch, cowboy. We want to be damn sure who or whatever it is didn't get you. And if there's anything I can possibly do to help, don't keep it a secret."

"Nothing I know of but to keep things quiet, Ev. As if I needed anybody but those damn college board members out to get me," growled Heyes.

Ev's heart went out to his friend. "Aw, man, you're gonna do fine, you and Beth. You know you will. You'll put the bottle behind you. And you'll be teaching math real soon. You're too good not to."

"Thanks," Heyes choked out as Ev went toward the door. They shook hands again. The man about to head west clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You'll be teaching yourself, next year, Ev. And you'll have a great wife." Ev smiled, unable to hide his happiness.

When the Long Island mathematics major had gone to say farewell to Beth on the sidewalk, the former outlaw whispered to himself, "I wish I was that sure about our future, pal."

Paul and Neal, Heyes' oldest and youngest Columbia student friends, came back into the apartment, deep in some mathematical discussion. Beth came in with them.

Beth looked fondly at her dear friends. "Paul, Neal, it looks like the wagon is all packed. Jim is going to drive this last load over to the clinic where Sam and Bob can haul these last few things up the steps. So we should say thank you and good bye. I can't tell you how grateful we are for all your help and your friendship."

"Yeah, thank you both a whole bunch. Uh, guys, does one of you have a little time to walk with me over to Levy's place?" Asked Heyes uneasily. "I've got to resign and collect my pay. I'm not going to go get drunk, I'm really not. But I know you won't let me go by myself."

Neal, the printer turned mathematician, nodded. "Yeah, you got that right. No solo yet. I can go with you."

"I'll come, too," Huxtable chimed in happily, his brilliant carrot colored hair flashing in the late afternoon sunlight. "Charlie's gone back to his place to pack for the trip. By the time we get you home, he ought to be back to take the night shift. One guard's not enough for a famous escape artist like you, Mr. Heyes." The former outlaw rolled his eyes at this, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get them to trust him so soon after his last escape.

When Paul and Neal had hugged Beth farewell, the trio of Columbians headed down the sidewalk. "I hate to give these up," said Heyes as he slung his full book bag over his shoulder. "I'll never find any of 'em out west."

"You let us know what you want and we'll see what we can do, Joshua," said Neal, from Heyes' left side.

"I can't ask that," said the former outlaw, sorry he had hinted at any such thing.

"Ask, Heyes. We can always say no," said Paul, from Heyes' right.

"Guys, you're too nice to an old thief," said Heyes with a smile. "I'm lucky to have friends like you."

"It surely is gonna be dull around here without you to make trouble," said Neal.

"Sorry I keep making things hard on you, guys," said Heyes.

"Oh, come on. You're a great guy and a great mathematician. It's a privilege to be your friend, Kansas," said Paul enthusiastically, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Thanks. I feel real lucky to have you standing by me through all the stuff that's happened." The aspiring professor hated to leave these friends behind.

"You bet, Joshua," added Neal George. "And we aren't gonna forget you. You gotta stay in touch."

"Sure, guys," said Heyes. "You let me know what's going on with you. I bet the West is gonna seem mighty calm after this crazy city. Other than the legal stuff and the tests, it's been a lot of fun."

Huxtable laughed, remembering some of that fun. "Kansas, remember that time you and I fooled Clarksdale and his cronies into playing poker with us and you cheated them out of more than a hundred bucks?"

"Cheat? Me?" Asked Heyes with mock innocence. "They just got outplayed by Hannibal Heyes and the notorious Kid – the Missouri Kid." Heyes winked at his friends and they all laughed.

"The joke was on us in those days – we thought you were just a poker-playing cowboy who got shot by accident," said Neal, sounding a little testy. "Like I've said before, you left out some stuff when you first told me about what you did for a living before you got to New York."

"Come on, NG, I didn't know you then," said Heyes. "I thought you might find ten thousand dollars kind of appealing. I'd run into a lot of people who did."

"Nah, you're just a natural liar," sneered Huxtable.

Heyes looked affronted. "I beg your pardon!"

"Come on, Heyes, we're just kidding you," said Huxtable, afraid he really had offended his friend.

"And I'm kidding you back," chuckled the former outlaw. "I am kinda proud of being a more than a passable liar. Some of it might be natural, but I've cultivated it."

"Was that how you and the Kid evaded folks who wanted to turn you in? Lying?" asked Neal, glad to get the opportunity to ask about this. Heyes' Columbia friends really had had little chance to talk with him in detail about his notorious past since he and his partner had been granted amnesty.

"Sometimes we talked our way out of stuff," admitted Heyes. "And don't discount the Kid's tongue – he cons pretty good. But a lot of times that wasn't an option. When we thought somebody already knew who we were and they might be willing to shoot us for that dead or alive reward, or just grab us, there wasn't time to get fancy. We just mounted up and rode out as fast as we could go. We weren't bad at losing guys trailing us. We got a whole lot of practice."

"I bet!" crowed Paul. "But wouldn't you shoot when they got close? Or were you too noble?"

The former safe cracker laughed. "Noble? The Kid and me? Never! We could wing guys when we had to. But it was usually just scaring the heck out of them. The Kid really is awful fast and accurate with his shots, still. And ten or fifteen years ago? – You just don't wanna know. He could hit anything he liked – like some bounty hunter's cuff link."

"He couldn't be a lot better at shooting than you are at ballistics and trigonometry, Joshua," said Neal confidently.

Heyes laughed hard at that. "There's nobody shoots like the Kid! If you'd seen . . ." This led to a parade of stories traded back and forth about Columbia school days and thieving and posse escaping in the West. The trio seemed to get to the Columbia library in no time. All three men were grinning and laughing all down the streets on their way. The only interruption in that happy mood was a moment when Heyes went tense and quiet. The trio was passing a noisy bar. His friends hurried him down the street; soon the tall tales and jokes were flowing again.

Soon, the former outlaw and his two friend-guardians arrived at the sweat shop where Heyes would no longer work. Heyes let himself into the office with his key. He found his boss leaning over a ledger book in the dusty office. "Mr. Levy," said Heyes, "I'd like you to meet my friends Neal George and Paul Huxtable. They're both mathematicians."

"It is an honor to me you, gentlemen," said Levy, getting up to bow to his guests, who warmly shook his hand. "So, Mr. Heyes, should I now be calling you professor?"

Heyes' smile faded. "No, Mr. Levy. The academics want me, the money men on the boards still say 'no.' I'll be going west to work with my partner at a hotel he is buying. My wife and I leave in the morning. Thank you very much for your own trust. Here is your office key back."

"Thank you, Mr. Heyes. Not that I suppose you needed a key for any door, eh?" The old man winked at his departing employee and all four men laughed. Levy went on, "And I thank you for your excellent work. I hope I can find someone else whom I trust so much with our money, but I will have to look far. Unless one of you gentlemen is able to take on such work part time?"

"No, I think I better not, sir. I'll be very busy, teaching and getting ready to graduate. But thank you for asking," said Huxtable.

"It's the same for me, Mr. Levy," said Neal George. "Though it would have been an honor to follow Heyes."

Levy smiled. "Ah, well, gentlemen, I had to ask. If you have friends in need of part time work with good pay, you tell me, eh. I wish you the best, Mr. Heyes. I hope your family is happy and healthy always."

"Thank you, boss!" exclaimed Heyes, shaking his boss's hand. "Oh, do you have my last paycheck for me?"

"Ah, trust the numbers man to remember the money. Of course, here you are," said Levy, reaching into his desk drawer and handing Heyes his check. "My best to Mrs. Heyes."

"Thank you!" Heyes grinned and stuffed the slip of paper into his wallet. "Farewell, Mr. Levy. Give my best to your son. You have both been very kind to me."

"And you to me, Mr. Ex-Outlaw. Never have you cheated me, as you could have done. Go safely, Mr. Heyes, and your friends," said Levy.

Heyes winked at his former boss and the trio went on their way. They had a thoughtful conversation as they walked Heyes back home.

"So, you think I'll ever really teach?" Heyes asked his friends.

"Of course you will, Kansas!" said Huxtable.

"But until then, don't let a little pause stop you. You got to keep up with research and get another article going," Neal advised sagely. "Don't leave a gap in your CV or get out of practice thinking on that high level."

"Yeah, Neal, I'll keep it up," replied Heyes.

By the time they got to the Heyes apartment, they had said good-bye in about a dozen ways and talked themselves out. The last few blocks were very quiet.

"Well, here we are," said Heyes. "Thank you, guys. Nobody could ever ask for better friends."

"It's gonna be a different place without you," said Neal.

Paul looked fondly at his western friend. "Yeah. We'll have to save ourselves when we get into trouble. No western hero on hand to get us out of stuff."

"I think you're up to it. You've learned more than than math." Heyes looked from one friend to the other. "You're gonna make really fine professors, both of you."

"You, too, Heyes," said Neal. "And real soon. You'll be a top professor. And research mathematician. And daddy." He shook his friend's hand

"Thanks!" Heyes grinned. "You boys come out and see us some time. You need to get West of Missouri, Paul. You too, Philadelphia printer. You can both go riding with the Kid and me."

"That would be great." Huxtable grinned happily. "A real western adventure."

"You get some nice, tame horses picked out for us," suggested Neal. "We ain't up to the broncos you're used to, Hannibal Heyes." Everybody laughed and the three shook hands.

"Go safely, Heyes," said Neal. "Let us know what's going on with you and Beth."

As if the mention of her name got her attention, Beth came down the apartment's outside stairs. Neal and Paul hugged her going-bye and the men exchanged bear hugs.

But soon, Mr. and Mrs. Heyes stood alone on the sidewalk waving to their departing friends. They held hands as they went up the steps.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the front door. Beth hurried to open it. She found Charlie Homer waiting there with a suitcase in his hand and Jim Smith at his side. Heyes laughed to see them. "Don't ask to borrow a gun, Jim," Heyes joked, "we ain't headed to Montana together again."

Jim giggled. "I just wanted t-to come visit a spell before you go." He enjoyed using a western phrase he had read in many dime novels.

"Sure thing," said Heyes.

"Well, I'm gonna head in and visit with the Mrs.," said Charlie with a chuckle.

Heyes and Jim sat on the porch of the building. The sun was going down behind the brownstones across the street. The pair of former roommates had glasses of lemonade Beth had brought out to combat the late summer heat. "You know, Heyes, what I'm proudest of in my life?" asked Jim.

Heyes took a sip of lemonade. "Well, you ought to be proud of how well you talk these days, but that's not good enough for what I'll bet you mean. So what are you proudest of?"

Jim grinned and said, "That once I was one of the Smith brothers and the other one was you – the greatest mathematician going!"

"Aw, that's real fine of you, Jim. I'm pretty proud of being your 'brother," too." Heyes smiled joyfully.

Jim said modestly, "Come on, what'm I for anybody to b-be proud of?"

Heyes said, "What do you mean? When I first got there, you were just carrying bags and helping old ladies up the steps. Now you're the facilities manager for the whole place. If they're warm in the winter and have water all year round, it's because of you. And best of all, you give the guys like Sam and Bob things to do that make 'em feel useful."

"Feel useful? They are useful! We couldn't run the p-place without them," said Jim with some passion.

The former outlaw who had once been silent was passionate, too. "See what I mean? Whether or not they can talk or understand you, you teach those boys what they need to do for each job without a word. You let 'em know how important they are. That's vital to those guys. Dr. Leutze, Dr. Goldstein, Beth and the other teachers can't do a thing for Sam and Bob. They'll probably never talk or even understand much again. But you can help where nobody else can. A man who's lost language can feel less than a man. But a man who works is a real man. I ought to know. I've been on both sides of that one."

As Heyes remembered that awful time when he had not been able to speak and didn't know if he ever would, a bleak look came over his face. That memory hurt in ways that had never fully healed. Heyes' voice sounded strained. "You want to go get a drink, Jim?"

Jim shook his head. "No, Heyes, I d-don't. Why don't you t-teach me one of those pretty card tricks of yours so I can impress the guys down by the docks and in the break room?"

Heyes smiled again, some of the pain leaving his eyes. "The Kid's not the only one who watches my back, is he Jim? What'll I do without you? Far as I'm concerned, you'll always be my brother."

Thinking of what had happened to Heyes' real brother, Jim couldn't speak for a moment. "I'm gonna miss you, Hannibal Heyes," he said at last.

Jim's former roommate said, "And I'll miss you, Joachim Gelbfisch. Hey, come out and visit us in Colorado. It's bound to go better than last time you came. It's got to."

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Heyes was unusually quiet at dinner with Beth and Charlie sitting on the porch with his head down.

"Cheer up," said Charlie, as they finished their fried chicken, "you're going home. You and Jed will really be partners again."

"Yeah, I guess," said Heyes in a dispirited voice. He sat and chewed for a moment. "I just hate to go out there with my tail between my legs. The Kid always wondered if I could make a go of teaching. The answer is 'no.'"

"The answer is 'not yet.'" Charlie Homer corrected his former student. "You'll catch on someplace, when the academic world starts to adjust to the idea of you as a professor. They haven't had a lot of time to cope with it, yet. And you know full well your partner has always believed in you, whether or not he says so."

The aspiring professor asked bitterly, "How can they adjust to something that hasn't happened yet? And probably never will?"

"It will happen, if I have anything to say about it. And I do." The senior professor spoke with authority.

"I don't suppose we have to ask why Columbia couldn't take him on as an adjunct or something," said Beth as she began to clear the table.

"They've already stuck their necks out far enough for me. They won't do more," said Heyes glumly as he handed his wife a stack of dirty plates. "Why should they?"

Charlie said nothing.

"Ha! I'm right, or you'd be arguing me down," said Heyes sharply as he gathered up the napkins.

Professor Homer nodded. "You are correct, Heyes. The deans wish they could do more. One day, perhaps they will. In the meantime, you have to stick with the field, or you give up everything you've worked for."

"I know that, Charlie. I'm trying. But I have a family to support,"

After dinner, Beth busied herself making travel preparations and writing to friends. Heyes and his former advisor finished a last bit of packing. But it was still early and Heyes was pacing restlessly. So the pair set up a travel chess set and embarked on an intense game on the bare floor, since all the tables were gone. As they played, they debated some mathematical question past Mrs. Heyes' understanding. Finally, the men put the board and men away. Heyes got up stiffly and walked toward the apartment's little bedroom one last time.

"Goodnight Charlie," he said. "See you bright and early in the morning. I hope you'll be comfortable on that old mattress Mrs. Westmoreland lent us."."

"I'll be fine. See you, son. Sleep well."

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"Goodnight, love," said Beth to her husband. They shared a kiss. Then she tried to settle herself to sleep for the last time in the bed that was one of the last things left in the nearly empty lower east side apartment. They were leaving the bed for the next tenants.

Heyes sat up in bed studying a newspaper. The rattle of the newspaper woke Beth. "Heyes, would you please put down the newspaper and put out the lamp?" Beth begged sleepily.

"Just a couple of minutes, then I will," said the former outlaw distractedly as he scribbled numbers on a legal pad.

"You're going to miss the New York newspapers as much as any friend, aren't you?" joked his wife. "Especially the financial pages."

"Pretty near," said Heyes looking away from his newspaper to his wife with a wan smile. "I don't reckon we'll ever have enough money to invest and make a killing in the markets. Maybe Jed will, one day, if he listens to me." The former bank robber sighed and wrote down another couple of numbers.

Beth pleaded, "Honey, put out the lamp. We need our sleep. I trust you. We'll be fine."

"Not without a few bucks in the bank, we won't be," snapped Heyes. "No one else trusts me. Not even Jed. We can't live on charity forever. And our baby can't."

His wife yawned. "We won't have to. You'll work for Jed until you catch on someplace. He does trust you."

Heyes barked, "We need more than that, if we're ever going to pay off our debts and gave a real house for you and the children. The reverend doesn't see it any more than you do. We need money!"

"What do you mean? What did Reverend Harrah say?" Asked Beth in concern.

Heyes put down his pad and folded up his newspaper. "I told him the whole problem with schools is the board members. The academics all want me, pretty much. They can't deny what I've done in the field. It's the money folks who say no – the banks and railroad guys who hate us. There are so many of them on those college boards. So he said if I really want to teach, I should take money out of the equation for starters; try offering the guys at the University of Colorado a free sample for a semester or so."

His wife had no doubts about how Heyes would have reacted to that. "But you don't want to devalue your services by giving them away."

Heyes nodded. "Exactly. I'm afraid I got kinda mad at the reverend. I yelled, but he didn't give in. It sounds too much like the amnesty, leaving us twisting in wind for who knows how long."

Beth said gently, "But the amnesty came through, in time."

The former outlaw was impatient. "Yeah, after about forever. That's what the reverend said, too. I mean, said it did come through. Said a free sample might be the only way to get past the wall of suspicion. I need to prove I care about the kids and math more than money. He wasn't saying I should teach for free – just maybe tutor or advise or something. I'll come up with the specifics on the train. Colorado has only have a couple of undertrained, underpaid adjuncts teaching math now. They should appreciate the help, even from a felon."

Beth observed her husband carefully. She could see how anxious he was about this decision. She said, "With the importance of engineering and surveying at that school, they must be desperate to get a real math professor."

Heyes looked serious and excited. "Yeah, that's what I hear. Believe me, I've been asking. But they lost the only real math professor they had and they don't have money to pay enough to keep anybody good. So the reverend and I figure, if I prove to them that I care and they can trust me, maybe, eventually, some supporter will come forward with the bucks to make it worth my while."

Beth asked, "So you'll try it? Volunteer as a tutor for a semester and see if it shakes loose some money?"

Heyes looked torn and tense. "Yeah, maybe. I'll sniff around when I get there and see what I think. I don't know anybody at Colorado. I'll just have to see how things work and how I get along with them."

"Play it by ear?"

"Yeah." The former outlaw looked as if the thought made him nervous.

Beth took her husband's hand comfortingly. "It isn't as if you and the Kid haven't done that plenty of times before on cons and other jobs. You know how to read people."

"Yeah, but it was just us, then. I didn't have a family counting on me." He smiled looked uncertainly at his wife.

"Or a wife who loved you, either," smiled Elizabeth Heyes.

Heyes paused and bit his lip. He whispered, "Aren't you going to ask if I'm sure I can do any kind of teaching, now, when I'm battling the drink?"

"No. I know very well that you can do anything you put your mind to." Beth's voice was totally positive.

"We'll see," said Heyes, shrugging.

"Let's go to sleep, darling." Beth stifled a yawn.

The happy father to be gently touched his wife's belly, which was starting to show signs of the growing child inside. "I love you both."

Husband and wife kissed. Heyes put out the light.

Late that night, Beth woke suddenly in the wee hours. She heard her husband breathing harshly in the dark. She knew, without asking or seeing, that he was awake. And that he was fighting his craving for alcohol. She snuggled up next to him and took his hand without a word. They would get through this together.