Kid Curry stood on the street out front of his office in Louisville staring through a gleaming brass telescope. He looked west into the distance at a trail out of the mountains. Nothing was moving there, or on any other pass the sheriff checked.
Curry swung his scope north and searched the sky. A slender trail of smoke was approaching from the distance. The sheriff waved to get the attention of a deputy stationed down the road and pointed north. The deputy nodded, waved back and then passed the message on to his fellow lawmen stationed around Louisville.
As the sheriff went through the door of the jail, telescope in hand, he announced to his deputy, "Train's on the way."
"Taking its time, even worse than it generally does," said Billy. "It'll be a relief to hand off the Green River Kid to those Wyoming marshals. What is that long, shiny thing?"
"This?" Curry collapsed and reopened his spy glass. "It's a telescope Heyes gave me. He won it off a ship's captain in a New York poker game a few years back. Comes in handy sometimes."
Billy examined the instrument for a moment. Then he asked, "You spot any trouble through that thing, boss?"
The sheriff shook his head and leaned his new stick against his desk as he sat down. "No. It's quiet. Except for a bunch of those nervous lawmen we got helping us out, pacing around like panthers on the prowl. Man, there was a time . . . Oh, well."
"What?" Healy couldn't help wondering what his boss had almost said.
"Aw, nothing." His blue eyes twinkled at the thought of what he and Heyes might have done when that many lawmen were out of place. But he quickly looked solemn again. There was serious business to be done.
Curry walked into the back room where the cells were. Reverend Packer was attempting to save a soul. Cody Laurence turned angrily in his cell away from the reverend to face the man who had maimed him. "Get him away from me! Padre, that guy shot me!"
"I know," said the reverend calmly, "as you have shot other men."
"Not like that!" Fumed the wounded gunman. Al Healy stepped toward the furious criminal. His boss pulled Al back just in time to keep his deputy free of a grasping left hand darting out through the bars.
The sheriff shot Cody Laurence an angry warning look and said, "Stay in there and stay alive, Laurence!" The gunman ignored the sheriff.
"Reverend," Curry warned, "stay back! He's a slippery devil, this one. But he don't have long to cause trouble here. Those marshals are gonna be here real soon, so you got to finish up."
"Finish! He's only just starting to listen and think," exclaimed the reverend, waving his corncob pipe at the young man behind bars.
"Curry's right about one thing," sneered Cody Laurence. "You don't have long to bother me, padre. My gang's gonna be here any old time to spring me. They won't leave me to go rot in prison up in Wyoming. You'll see."
Curry sighed. He doubted that any gang would come to Laurence's rescue, since his injury likely meant he would never fire a pistol again. But still, the sheriff and his deputies and temporary help were on the alert just in case. The door out front of the jail opened. The marshals from Wyoming had arrived.
"Alright, Reverend, you're done here," said the sheriff.
"No, sir, I am not," protested the man of the cloth. "I will stay with this young man every minute, even every second, that I can. He needs all I or anyone else can do for him."
Curry shrugged. He stayed cool, at least on the outside. "Well, then watch him, Al. I got paperwork and marshals to deal with before we unlock that cell door. Keep the reverend back!"
Jed found the front of his office full of marshals. He looked around curiously, wondering if he would know any of them. It seemed inevitable that he would, and he did. "Good afternoon, Marshal Kirk," said the former gunman to the senior lawman.
A lean, grey-haired lawman turned with a hard look. Then he grinned and stuck out his hand. "Nice to have you on our side now, Kid. Don't have to worry about you and your partner getting away from me anymore. Here, Kid, meet Marshals Campbell, Badger, and Knox."
The Louisville sheriff sagely decided not to correct what his old opponent had called him. He accepted the offered hands of the four marshals one by one. "Thanks. Nice to meet you fellows. Welcome to Louisville, Marshals. I got a nasty one for you this time. You ever run into the Green River Kid?"
"Oh yeah, Curry, we all have," said Kirk as his fellow marshals nodded. "He's been pretty active up our way the past couple of years. You seen any sign of his gang?"
"No," said Curry. "Gentlemen, this is Billy Healy, one of my deputies. Al Kelly is in back with Laurence. Our local reverend is trying to save Laurence's soul."
The marshals all laughed at that. "Good luck to him!" hooted the bearded Knox as he drew his pistol. "The padre ain't in the cell with Laurence, is he?"
"No, no. I got more sense than that," said Curry. "Here, gentlemen, we've got the paperwork all ready for you. And I've got a page of stuff the local doctor wrote up for you to take care of the guy. You know I shot him?"
"Yeah, we know," said the sandy-haired young Marshal Badger. "Fancy shooting."
Curry ignored the mocking praise, determined not to fight with the law.
When the papers had been inspected and signed, two marshals went into the back room to fetch the prisoner while Curry, Knox, and Kirk waited out front with their pistols drawn and trained on the door.
"You ain't takin' me back to hang in Wyoming!" howled the Green River Kid as Marshal Badger hauled him into the front room by his handcuffs. Because of Laurence's heavily bandaged finger, his hands were joined in front of him rather than behind his back.
"Well, here he is, boys," said Badger, bringing the recalcitrant criminal into the front of Curry's office. "Watch out for that hand."
The reverend stayed as near to his stray sheep as the marshals would allow. The marshals, Laurence, Curry, Kelly, and the reverend were soon in the street, where the deputies stationed around town watched them like circling hawks as they made their way down the street toward the train station. Every lawman was tense, watching both the criminal in custody and the streets and alleys through which a gang could arrive to spring him.
Laurence looked around the street expectantly. "Where's my gang? Where are they?" But there was no gang to be seen – only a host of lawmen stationed all over town. Even the townsfolks kept their distance, peering furtively out from windows here and there.
"We ain't seen no gang, Cody!" called a young deputy down the street. "Not one man. They ain't coming and you know it."
"They'll come! They got to!" muttered the criminal, twisting around to look for his men.
"No, they don't. They got more sense," said Marshal Knox, scratching his scarred neck. "Now you hurry along, Laurence. We got a train to catch north."
As the alert group went slowly past, Doctor Grauer hurried out of his office, in search of which marshal was in charge, "Now, marshals, do you have any questions about his care before you take Laurence on the train? Here, I made up a packet of bandages for you, and here's some salve for you to use."
As the lawmen's eyes turned to the doctor, Laurence suddenly twisted in Badger's grasp. Before anyone knew what was happening, the injured gunman had his handcuffed hands around Reverend Packer's neck. "Nobody move, or I'll strangle him. I will!" proclaimed the desperate criminal. "I want the reverend with me. He cares about me. I don't got my gang, but I got the Reverend. Don't take him away!"
"Now, son," said Packer gently, "there's no need for force. I'll stay with you as long as you like. I can ride on the train with you. Can't I, marshals?"
"Sure, of course," said Marshal Kirk. "No problem, just let him go, Cody."
"No!" howled the increasingly irrational gunman. "Don't let them shoot me, Reverend! Put all those guns away."
The marshals froze, unsure what to do.
The reverend spoke soothingly, slowly, taking the lead, "Now, boy, I can't go with you like this. I promise, I won't leave you. You just need to let me do it. And the marshals will promise not to shoot if you don't hurt anyone. Alright?"
"You swear?" demanded the frightened criminal.
"I swear on the Holy Bible, I will stay with you all the way to Wyoming," said the reverend. "Marshals?"
"We won't shoot anybody unless you make us, Laurence," said Kirk, the oldest of the marshals. Curry nodded.
"But what about your congregation here?" asked Laurence, his voice high with nervousness. "You'll leave them for me?"
The reverend's voice remained gentle and warm. "I will. Jesus told a parable about leaving his hundred sheep for one stray. That I will do – so long as you try to listen to me and try to come back to the fold, Cody."
Cody Laurence stood and thought about that as the tense lawmen watched him. The Reverend sweated in the uncomfortable embrace of the handcuffs. Finally, Laurence raised his hands so the reverend could drop to one knee and remove his neck from the circle of steel and bound arms. Packer motioned for the marshals to step back as he remained standing right next the terrified Laurence. The reverend hugged the young man, who had begun to sob.
"There down, Cody, it's all going to be alright. I'll make sure of that." said the reverend, his voice filled with relief. "Just let me speak to the sheriff for a moment." Cody nodded and took a deep breath.
The reverend turned to Curry. "In my office at the church, there's a list of local reverends and how to get in touch with them. If you speak to them, they'll know where you can find someone to preach here this Sunday and watch over the souls here until I can return. Can you do that for me?"
"Sure, Reverend Packer," said Curry. "Of course, I'll round up somebody to preach for you. I promise."
"Thank you!" said the reverend. "You'll let the sheriff get my keys out of my pocket, won't you, Cody?"
"Alright, Reverend, if that's what you want," said the young former gunman. "You just stay with me."
"I will," said the Reverend, patting Laurence on the shoulder. "The Bible and I will be at your side."
"Oh, gee," thought Curry as the train left carrying Cody Laurence north. "How do I get myself into these things? It's gonna take a bunch of telegrams and dollars to donuts, the Reverend won't have any money to pay me back. I don't know what to write to those guys. And Heyes ain't even here to help me."
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On the second floor of the Main building of the University of Colorado, Heyes, having finished speaking to the University president, found a door with the word "Library" neatly lettered on it. The former outlaw opened the door and peered in curiously.
A slender man in spectacles sprang to his feet behind a book-piled desk surrounded by crowded book shelves. "Hello," he said in a hoarse voice with a New England accent. "What can I do for you?"
"Sorry to startle you," said Heyes, "Are you Mr. Lowrey, the librarian?"
"Yes. Are you looking for a book?" The librarian was as slight as a feather and had heavy dark shadows under his eyes.
Heyes replied, "Yes. More than one book. I'll be tutoring some of the University students in mathematics this fall. President Hale said you could lend me the textbooks for the classes. My name is Heyes." The former outlaw extended his hand.
"Welcome to the University of Colorado, Mr. Heyes," said the frail librarian, whose handshake was no stronger than Heyes had expected. He adjusted his write-rimmed spectacles, then turned and pointed to a shelf crowded with dog-eared volumes. "Copies of the textbooks for next semester are all there. I'm afraid they aren't as recently published as we would like. We could really use a proper professor to point us to the best new mathematics texts, but our former professor left and took his funding with him."
Heyes had a look across the spines of the volumes and agreed with the librarian. He pulled out a copy of the aging text for beginning geometry and three others. "Thank you for your help, sir. Do you mind if I stay here a while to have a good look at these?"
"No, that's fine. I'll be glad to have some company. The students and most of the faculty haven't arrived yet. Except for those infernal ball players. They've been cursing like sailors since they started their practice half an hour ago." The library looked in irritation toward an opened window through which they could hear baseballs being struck and caught. These sounds were accompanied by a constant stream of youthful chatter salted with western-flavored curses. "I think they came to school to learn fresh profanity from one another rather than honest English from their professors."
Heyes laughed. "Sounds like it. Oh well, you know guys that age."
Lowrey smiled wryly. "It's true. And their coach is just as bad. I'd shut the window if it weren't so hot today. It gets unbearable in here with the windows all shut. It's not that I'm a prude, you understand, but we do have lady students. And teachers. I understand a new lady prep school teacher is coming in today. I fear she is bound to come into the library and be offended."
"Oh, don't worry. Beth's very upright herself, but she'd used to being around guys who use bad language," remarked Heyes fondly. "She's hard to rattle."
"I beg your pardon?" The librarian was puzzled. "You know her?"
The new tutor grinned. "I hope so. She's my wife – Elizabeth Heyes."
"Oh. That's nice that you get to work at the same school. Well, I suppose it's just as well she is at home with bad language. A lady who blushed easily at a curse would rarely be seen her true color on this raucous campus," chuckled Lowrey. "Feel free to take some texts home with you to plan, Mr. Heyes. Here's the checkout book. Just list the texts and sign your name."
"Thanks!" Heyes checked out four texts, then found a table where he could study them.
True to the librarian's prediction, a half hour later, Beth and Jesse entered the library with Charlie on their heels. Jesse introduced the new teacher and her mentor to the librarian, then turned and said, "Joshua, you're still here?"
Heyes stood to greet his friend. "Sure. I had work to do, and I thought I'd wait so I can ride home with Beth and Charlie when you're done showing them around. What's the fun of teaching on the same campus with my wife if I never see her? And I want to see Charlie all I can, too, while he's here visiting."
Beth came to hold her husband's hand. "Jesse's going to show us around some more, honey. You should come along and get to know the campus." Just then a particularly colorful curse floated in the window. Beth giggled and Heyes smiled. The librarian grinned at the new tutor, glad he was right about the unflappable Elizabeth Heyes.
The campus was beautiful, but small, so it wasn't long before Heyes was riding home alongside the wagon as Charlie drove. The rattling wagon made it too noisy to talk back and forth much, so Heyes amused himself and his friends by showing off his horsemanship as shamelessly as any young boy with his girl. After all, Beth had rarely seen him on horseback for longer than it took him to ride out of sight. So now he made Clay prance, rear, and pirouette. Then he cantered the gelding in neat circles across the unfenced fields between Boulder and Louisville. Heyes tried to do a little trick roping, but the out of practice former cowboy didn't do well with a rope. He got tangled up and had to stop to reel in his lariat. The couple laughed at each other and Charlie joined in, delighted to see them so happy together.
"Well, Mrs. Heyes, we're home," said Charlie as he turned the wagon clattering into the gravel of the drive in front of the Curry house.
Heyes dismounted and helped his wife down from the wagon. She kissed him and went up the steps to the porch, where Cat came out to greet her.
"I'll go unhitch and put Clay away to give you love-birds some time together," said the senior professor.
"Gosh thanks, Charlie," said Heyes as he stood holding Clay's reins. "We're really putting you to work on what's supposed to be a vacation. But actually, I want to ride into town and see how things are with my partner."
"Don't worry, Heyes," called Cat from the porch. "Jed sent a deputy out to tell me that Cody Laurence has gone safely on his way."
"Oh, well that's good," said Heyes, sounding truly relieved. "Not that I was really concerned . . ."
"But you don't like for your partner to do dangerous stuff without you," Cat finished her cousin-in-law's sentence for him."
"Well, he did bring on a bunch of extra deputies," Heyes grinned self-consciously, "so he thought he might need help."
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"How far off is Mr. Cable's mine, where Heyes is headed in the morning?" Asked Charlie as the five friends began to eat their dinner in the new house. The red checked table cloth was half covered with well filled dishes. The long summer day meant it was still light. The late afternoon light glowed gold as the sun got low outside the west-facing windows behind Charlie.
"The Fayette Mine is about six miles northwest of town," said Cat as she finished a bite of flakey biscuit, "so that's more like six and a half or seven miles from here."
"That's as the crow flies," added the Kid, over a forkful of pork, "The trail up there into the Flatirons has gotta be nine, ten miles, easy. Or not easy. It's a rough trail. I went out there once."
"I thought the coal mine entrances were so close to town," said Beth, puzzled.
"Most of them are. The miners can walk to most of them right from their places in town," Cat explained. "There are even a couple of mine entrances right in the city limits. The Fayette Mine is just a bit farther out – the farthest one out of town, as a matter of fact. Much too far to walk."
"It would be!" Moaned Heyes with mock self-pity. He added some more butter and salt to his corn on the cob and took a bite.
"Poor baby," teased Beth, giving her husband a kiss on the cheek.
"What took you out there, Kid?" Asked Charlie while he cut his pork chop.
"Poker game," said Curry. He wiped a bit of biscuit off his chin and added some more detail with a glance at Heyes, "Some of the mine owners have a game that moves around from mine to mine. They play pretty good, partner."
"They better not be playing at the Fayette Mine tomorrow night," Mrs. Heyes warned her husband. "Or if they do, you had better not play with them. We need you at home and at the hotel as soon as you can get back."
"Oh, don't worry," Heyes laughed, "I don't have a dime to spare for gambling, and those boys must play pretty high stakes. Besides, between moving in, splitting kindling, getting ready for tutoring, and managing the hotel, I've got more than enough to do around here."
"Don't forget keeping up with your journal reading and following up your research," Charlie chipped in. He finished a glass of cider and licked his lips. "I won't be here to keep an eye on you after Wednesday."
"We're gonna miss you, Charlie," said his former student. "I'm sorry I've gotta be off to the coal mine all day Saturday. I hope we can go riding or fishing or something on Sunday."
"Sounds good to me," said Charlie.
"And me," the Kid chimed in through a mouthful of food.
"After church." Cat shook her finger at Heyes and Curry. "Remember, we have to be there to be nice to whoever Jed finds to fill in for Reverend Packer."
"Don't remind me!" Griped Curry looking up from his plate, "I've sent telegrams to about ten guys from here to Denver and nobody's said 'yes' yet. I'll probably be reverend wrangling all day tomorrow, when I was supposed to be off from law work to help with the house and work at the hotel. If I don't have to do the danged sermon myself."
"Now that would fill the church!" crowed Cat gleefully.
The friends laughed companionably, with even the aggrieved Jed finally joining in.
"Good luck with the preachers, partner. Say, Jed," said Heyes as they were finishing their pieces of sweet potato pie, "Would you draw me a map to the mine? I know you told me the way, but I want to be sure I know where I'm going in the mountains."
"Sure," said his partner. "You're right. It's easy to lose your way up on those windy little trails."
When dinner was finished, the two notorious partners sat next to each other in the parlor, leaning over the table where Jed was drawing a map and adding lots of observations over his shoulder as he worked. Before long, they finished indoors and went out to the porch, still talking avidly, planning the days to come. Charlie finished helping with the dishes and went to join his fellow men swapping tall tales in the soft summer evening air. The smell of cigars drifted from the porch in the open windows.
When the last dishes were set to dry, Beth and Cat sat in the parlor to get some of their own work done. Cat lit a lamp and reached for a basket of knitting. Beth put a legal pad on her lap and held a sharpened pencil. But they couldn't ignore the happy male voices they head from the porch. The women looked at each other and laughed with joy, just to be together with their men and each other and safe.
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Beth woke early Saturday morning when the light coming through the curtains was still grey. She realized the spot next to her in bed was empty. She heard sounds from the kitchen. Mrs. Heyes controlled herself and lay there, letting her husband fix his own breakfast.
But Beth couldn't sleep. She couldn't forget all of the stories she had heard about poisonous gas, explosions, and collapses in coal mines. Down a deep, black hole was no place she wanted her Heyes to go. She turned over and tried again to sleep, but as she heard the side door of the house open and shut, she sat up. She went to the window and pulled back a discrete corner of the curtain to watch Heyes go into the stable. She was still watching when he came out, leading Clay. The claybank dun gelding was saddled, bridled, and had bulging saddle bags behind his saddle. The first rays of sunrise cast a pinkish light over his coat.
The mountains in the distance were barely starting to emerge from the shadows of night. As Heyes checked over his mount, he looked back toward the house and spotted the devoted woman spying on him. He smiled fondly and swung up onto Clay. Heyes rode over to the window, while Beth raised the sash. Being on horseback put the rider at just the right level to look through the window.
Beth leaned out the window and spoke softly to her husband, not wanting to wake Jed and Cat, who would be sleeping late on Curry's day off, or Charlie, who was on vacation. "Take care, love! Have a good ride and a good day at the mine."
Heyes replied just as softly. "I won't get blown up or fall down a shaft, don't you worry. See you tonight, darling. Or tomorrow morning at the latest, if things run long."
"Remember, Heyes, we're expected in church tomorrow morning. So make it tonight. Poor Jed, wrangling reverends!" She grinned and leaned out the window to exchange a quick kiss with her husband, who leaned over from the saddle to meet her.
Heyes then nodded to Beth and neck reined his horse away from the house. He urged Clay into a lope. The former safecracker turned to wave his black cowboy hat back at his wife. Then he rode away as Beth waved to him through the window. She closed the window and lay down still seeing in her mind the beautiful sight of her husband spurring away on his horse in his full western gear. Now she just wanted him to come home safely that night.
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After a few easy miles over the plains, the trail Curry had sketched for Heyes turned west and climbed sharply up into the Flatirons, threading between the slanted boulders. Switchback after switchback took horse and rider ever higher into the Flatirons and then the Rockies proper. It grew chilly as the way climbed. Heyes put on his old brown jacket. The former outlaw rode slowly, stopping his horse often to rest and scout the way. At one switchback, Heyes had to dismount and lead his horse around a rock slide across the trail, slowly picking his way to avoid loose rock and gravel where Clay could slip or trip. Heyes had hesitated to bring his aging horse on this trip, but Curry had assured him that Clay was still more sure footed than any other animal in the stable.
Finally, Heyes rode up to a sturdily built wooden structure with a professionally lettered sign marking it "Fayette Mine." A roughly hand-painted board added, "For work, enquire within."
After walking his horse out for a few minutes around the small level patch near the mine office, Heyes tied up Clay to a rail by a trough filled with water.
Heyes knocked at the door of the mine headquarters. "Come in!" Called a familiar voice.
Heyes walked in to the roughly furnished office, pulling off his black leather riding gloves. "Mr. Cable – I've come about that job you wired about."
"Good, Smith." Cable reached out to shake friend's hand. "Or, rather, Heyes." The long time friends laughed. "Kind of makes me feel better to think I've been losing money at the poker to Hannibal Heyes, not just some guy named Smith."
"Yes, Mr. Cable." The former outlaw, unsure of his new situation, was keeping things formal until he knew more.
But Cable smiled and said, "Oh, come on, Heyes. We've known each other a long time, even if you weren't using your real name. You can call me by my first name just like you do at the poker table."
Heyes replied. "I wasn't working for you, then."
Cable nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, you can call me Mister around the men. In private, Gordon is fine with me. Considering who you are, I don't suppose I've got any questions about how good you are at setting dynamite charges. And I know you've been studying stuff about explosives at school and you wrote that article you told me about. What I want is a man to help me save lives. You've seen about the accident last week." The two men sat down on opposite sides of Cable's dusty desk.
On top of the papers on the desk was a clipping about the deadly mine accident. "Yes, Gordon. I was real upset to see that. But I do think I can help. I hope so. Here – have a look at my CV." Heyes put his own pile of papers on the desk.
"Your what?" Now Gordon was the one who was insure.
Heyes explained, "Curriculum vitae – CV. An outline of my life experience – well, my academic experience, anyhow. Nothing about outlawing in there, but you already know all about my record and how the pardon and amnesty cleaned it up. Figuring how to control explosions safely is my specialty. I've written back and forth with a lot of men in other countries with a lot of experience with mines and math."
Cable looked over the unfamiliar pieces of paper filled with listings of academic standings and papers. Heyes' article was attached. "Wow! I don't even know all these words. Looks impressive."
"Hm. Well, academically, it is. But . . ."
"But what, Heyes?" asked Cable.
The former outlaw put his cards on the table. "I don't have a lot of practical experience in coal mines. In fact, I'll be up front with you. I've never been in a coal mine in my life. I did some gold mining years back, but never coal."
The mine manager wasn't thrown by this. "Well, that's no surprise. Are you willing to listen to me and the men, to learn about how things work in those shafts way underground?"
The new graduate was eager to learn. "Yes, of course. I know they can teach me a lot. But by the same token, if you guys won't listen to me, I can't save lives."
Cable nodded. "I understand that. It'll take some work to get our experience and your understanding together, I suppose. But since we lost those men to a mistake by a veteran dynamite man who thought he knew what he was doing, I'm willing to look in new directions. I want to get coal out, but I don't want galleries collapsing and men dying. That's not productive and it's not right."
"I agree. I'll listen and I'll look and I'll do my best to learn. Will you give me a try?" Heyes asked.
Gordon answered, "Well, I won't let you set off charges until you've spent some time down there and I'm happy."
"Of course. I wouldn't set charges until I was sure anyhow." Heyes agreed.
Cable said, "I understand you're married. I want to keep you safe, as well as our men. I've got a spare room in my house that's comfortable. You and your wife can stay there when you're putting in your hours. Your Mrs. can use the kitchen all she likes if she can work it out with my wife. And here's the hourly pay scale for a starting engineer, which is I guess what we'd have to call you. I'll kick in a dollar extra per hour for your expertise, but I can't do more until we see how you work out."
Heyes studied the table Cable had handed him and nodded. It wasn't over-generous, but it was more than he'd ever made at legitimate, salaried work in his life. Not that there was much to compare it to. "That looks equitable to me. But my wife will be teaching in Boulder, so she won't be here with me."
Cable studied his potential new employee. "That's a shame. I know you'll miss each other – newlyweds, and all. You want to start on a trial basis day after tomorrow, and the next day? It takes so long to get here, two days at a time seems better than one."
"Yeah, two days at a time makes sense. Beth and I will miss each other, but we need the money. I'd be glad to try a couple of days on trial at consulting. But I'll have to talk to Jed about managing our hotel and I'm meeting with the President of the University on Monday, so I don't know yet what days I can do. I hope to do some tutoring at the University, you know."
Gordon looked up in surprise. "Oh, you are really piling on the work. So long as you can give me two days every other week or so, I think we can make it work."
Heyes asked, "Where do your men stay during the week, since you aren't close enough for them to sleep in town during the week?"
Gordon got up from his desk and pointed out the window, "We've got a decent bunk house with a kitchen and dining room and even a bathroom, though they've got to pump up the water and heat it themselves. But you can still stay with my wife and me, even if you don't have Mrs. Heyes with you. It's more comfortable with us."
Heyes shook his head. "No, pardon me, but I'd rather stay with the men when I'm here. I'll learn more and faster. And they'll trust me more if they don't think of me as all on the side of the foreman. Or do you disagree, Gordon?"
"I'd bet you're right about that. Not that anybody should go for what I'd bet." Cable laughed. "You've beaten me bad enough at poker to know that. Though now that I know who I was losing too, I guess I don't feel so bad about that. You should go have a good look at the mine before you commit."
Heyes nodded. "Yeah, of course. Guess I shouldn't wear white shirts down there, huh? So I came in old clothes."
Cable chuckled, but he soon stopped laughing. Coal mining was serious work. "Here, Heyes, get into these coveralls before we go down below. Don't want to spoil your duds even if they are old. I guess your riding boots will be alright for today, but steel-toed work boots are what you'll need in future. I might have a pair to fit you around here someplace."
"Thanks, boss." Heyes stripped down to his underwear and climbed into the baggy, coarse garment Cable offered him. The pair walked over to a rough board building that covered the entrance into the side of a mountain.
A man filthy with coal dust greeted them in the dark inside the building. "So who's this, boss?" he asked, looking curiously at Heyes.
"Higgins, this is Joshua Heyes. He'll be trying out to give us some advice on dynamite. He's got a lot of experience with explosives, but not in coal mines. So make sure the guys are careful with him. I don't want him hurt down there."
Heyes reached out to shake the miner's black stained hand. "Welcome, Mr. Heyes," said Higgins. "We'll keep an eye on you. If you can save our lives, we don't want to take any chances with yours."
"I'll do my best, Mr. Higgins," said Heyes. "Saving lives is what I'm here for. So tell me what I need to do and we'll see what we can do about making things safer in the dark places."
"Sure thing, Mr. Heyes," said Higgins. "Watch your head. And don't you go anyplace I don't tell you to go. Here's a hat for you." He went to a shelf and got a canvas hat with a little metal candle holder on top and handed it to the new potential engineer. "Here – I'll light the lamp for you. Watch your step."
"It's a deal, Mr. Wiggins," said Heyes.
Wiggins and Cable led the way to the elevator that was just a rough steel cage that stood ready to descend into a midnight-dark shaft in the earth. "Keep your hands in as we go down, Heyes," cautioned the mine manager. "You'd be surprised how many guys get hurt. This thing goes down damn fast."
Heyes looked nervously at the metal cage he was riding in as it descended past the stone sides of the vertical shaft down, down, down. Soon, they were walking over rough stone into the deepest darkness Heyes had ever seen, lit only by the small brass lanterns Higgins and Cable carried and the even smaller flaming lights all three wore on their canvas hats.
"We won't go far today, Wiggins," said Cable. "I want Heyes to do some careful looking. And I want him out before dark."
Wiggins laughed. "Dark? It's always dark down here. You'll get used to it, Heyes." They dodged out of the way of a man dragging a coal-filled car running on tracks. "Hey, watch your step there." Wiggins took Heyes' hand and pulled him away from where he had been about to step. "That's a shaft fifty feet deep."
"Oh!" Heyes stepped back from the rough railing that was all that marked the edge of the deadly drop. "Thanks, Wiggins."
"Don't mention it. Roper, here's our new dynamite man, Heyes."
A couple of men so black with dust that Heyes could hardly see them in the dim lantern light stepped up. "Hello, Heyes. What mines you been in before?"
"None. I've got a lot of experience with dynamite and I've been down a gold mine or two, but you'll have to teach me about coal. I'm glad to learn." Heyes didn't mention all the reading he had done; he doubted it would cut any ice with real miners.
"What'd you do with dynamite if you weren't mining, Heyes?" asked Roper.
"Here, Heyes, meet my assistant foreman, Ross White," said Cable, glad to keep Heyes from having to give away his outlaw past as he introduced a tiny, agile man who seemed born for the work. "What a name, down here!" The all laughed at what Heyes supposed was a very old, tired joke.
When they had looked around the rough, black walls of the gallery a while, ducking under wood support members, Wiggins said, "Here, Heyes. They boys are gonna set off some charges here. Have a look at the drill holes before they pack them down and light the fuses."
Heyes inspected the area as well as he could, tracking the neatly gathered fuses. He brought his lamp as close as he dared, sending crazy shadows darting around the close walls of the gallery. He was vividly aware of the keen gazes of the miners whose eyes gleamed in the dim lamplight. "Even with the packing, you aren't going to set that off without a blast shield, are you?"
The men laughed. Heyes realized he had passed his first test. "No, of course not. Here it comes, now," said Higgins. "Now you alright to go over to the next gallery and put your fingers in your ears?"
"Come on, boys, that's not funny," said Heyes, looking over the rough wood blast shield as they placed it.
"Huh? You already spotting problems?" asked Wiggins. Cable listened closely.
"You mean you're serious?" asked Heyes, appalled. "Look at that shield. It you used that, the force could blow away that weak spot. If not this time, then real soon. See – it's so weakened, it's bound to give – scatter splinters all over the place." The men studied the blast shield and saw, with horror, that the newcomer was right. They called for help and had the weakened shield taken away.
"And you are gonna use another shield, right over here?" asked Heyes, gesturing to show the angle for another shield.
"If you say so, professor," laughed the miner whose life had perhaps just been saved.
It was hours later that that Heyes and two of new miner friends rode the elevator back up out of the mine. The former outlaw was delighted to see the sun again, though he squinted at first in the bright afternoon light after the dark mine.
As he walked out of the mine shaft and back to the mine office. Heyes discovered that he was totally black with coal dust. He tried to brush the dust out of his hair and off his clothes before he got back to Cable's office, but the effort did very little. He was still shedding piles of gritty black as prepared to get back into his formerly clean clothes in Cable's office.
"Man, that dust gets everywhere!" the ex-outlaw exclaimed, shaking more and more blackness out of his underwear and his hair before he climbed into his old western clothes. When he thought he was done, he swept the black dust put the door. But he had to repeat the procedure twice before he was even mildly satisfied.
"Yeah, it's nasty," said Cable. "You'll get used to it in time. Your wife probably never will. It's not fun to deal with in the laundry. Or on clean sheets."
"Sure, boss," said Heyes, sitting down opposite Cable's desk. "But there's a few things we'd better discuss before we shake hands on this deal."
Cable looked at Heyes for a minute. "What, Heyes? About your, um, your past?"
Heyes nodded. "Yeah, that's one thing. I'd rather you kept it quiet with the men, as I guess you have done so far. They'll catch on in time, but if I can have the chance to get settled a bit before they know, I'd appreciate it."
"Sure," Cable nodded. "What's another thing?"
"My future. If I get the offer of a job teaching math, I've got to be able to take it. That's a condition on my amnesty – I've got to try my best to teach college math, especially out west in Colorado, Montana, Texas, or Wyoming, where I was wanted. So if somebody wants to interview me to teach, you've got to let me interview and let me leave to take the position if they offer it and I want it. And you've got to let me send out applications for teaching so I might get those offers. I've been looking all summer and got nothing, so you know it's tough for an ex-outlaw to get a post as a professor. But does that spoil our deal?"
Cable thought for a moment. "No, I guess not. It's too late in the year for that to come through now, isn't it?"
The aspiring professor agreed. "Yeah, probably. But I can't promise for sure. So you'll let me hire on with that condition?"
"If you can save my men's lives, you're worth the risk. Alright Heyes, you're on trial. You just let me know when you can come again. Then, if you look like working out, we'll see about something more permanent. We'll try you on shift 6:00 to 6:00 with an hour for lunch weekdays, when you're here."
Heyes nodded. He wasn't surprised. Long days were the rule in those days. He'd seen the salary and assumed it came with brutal hours. It did. "I'm going to need to work stuff out on paper, and that kind of figuring can take hours. I've got to do it in good light. So I won't be down a shaft all those hours. I just can't be."
Cable said, "Oh? I guess it makes sense. That'll take some getting used to. But like I say, if it saves lives, then it'll be fine."
Heyes added, "And I don't swing a pick. Not ever. I had to drive spikes on the railroad in prison and it about killed me."
The manager was taken aback, "That so? We'll get someone else to drive your holes, since you're just consulting."
Heyes said, "I have to tell you; I don't plan on spending the rest of my days down a mine shaft. But if it can give me experience that will help me to teach better when I get to teach, then it's fine for a while."
"Heyes, are you trying to argue yourself out of this job?" Cable asked.
"Maybe. I don't want to get in over my head." Heyes' eyes sparkled.
Cable laughed. "Very funny. You'll be way, way over your head real quick if you take this on. Alright. You better ride out of here before it gets too dark, unless you've got more conditions that might make me change my mind."
Heyes grinned. "No, that's all I can think of for now. I'll be in touch about when I can put in my first pair of days. I'll bring my stuff and get it in the bunk house. I'll need some kind of office with a desk and some space for files. And I'm afraid I'll have some books to bring – about half a dozen. Some of those are big, hardcover reference works. I'll pack them up on a mule, if somebody can get it back to town soon."
Cable said, "We'll find a spot, make up a desk and a bookcase. The boys will be shocked. Books in the bunk house! But worth it, I hope."
Heyes agreed. "I'll try to be worth it. I do need the books and the desk – big enough to do some good graphing. The office stuff will help me to save those lives."
"Well, if you've got to have them. I don't know her, but I'm guessing your wife won't like it for you to work down a shaft," Cable speculated.
"She won't like it one little bit. But we need the money, so I'll talk her into it. Bye!" When Heyes shook Cable's hand again, there was coal dust on both men's hands. Heyes tried, once more, to use a knife to get the dark grit out from under his fingernails. He supposed he would get used to it. But he hated being dirty and working in the dark.
As Heyes walked out of the office to get his horse saddled, he saw two riders and a wagon coming up the gravel road in the golden late afternoon light. Cable came out and greeted the newcomers. "Good evening, gentlemen! Ready for a good game? Say, Heyes, you want to stay the night and play poker with some our friends? I bet you know some of them."
"Oh, no, I can't stay," said Heyes. "My wife made me promise to be in church with her tomorrow. My partner's working on getting a substitute minister while our regular one is riding tithe train to Wyoming with a guy Jed arrested, so I got to be there."
"Aw, come on, you mean we don't get to play poker with Hannibal Heyes?" Moaned burly mine owner Clarence Martin, whom Heyes knew from poker games at Christy's Place. That his old friend Joshua Smith was really the partner of Kid Curry had not escaped his notice.
"Hannibal Heyes?!" Exclaimed a man as he got down from his horse. This mine owner was one Heyes didn't know. "You got to stay and play us, Heyes!"
"But my wife . . ." the former outlaw began to complain.
"Hannibal Heyes himself is henpecked!" commented another stranger as he got down from the wagon.
"I am not!" protested the target to this gibe.
"Then stay and play poker with us," suggested Gordon Cable with a sparkling smile. A chorus of voices backed him up.
"That would be great, but I don't have a red cent to my name, boys," Heyes protested.
Clarence Martin said, "I'll stake you."
Other voices joined him, "Me, too." "Well, I won't get left out. Heyes, we'll each give you a stake. How's that?"
The former outlaw squirmed under the gaze all this mix of friends and strangers. "Thanks, guys, but my wife would be awful mad. And my partner. I better not."
Cable and one the mine owners exchanged a glance.
Cable slapped Heyes on the back, "Well, if it's gonna upset the Kid, maybe you better go on home after all. You hurry up, Heyes. It'll be dark soon. Don't want you to get lost out there all alone on the trail."
This roused the former gang leader's pride. "Aw, forget the Kid. If you guys will stake me, I'll play a few hands."
As the men headed for their horses and wagon to gather up paper-wrapped tacos, sandwiches, and a keg of beer, Heyes smiled. A round table was waiting in Cable's house. It was covered in green felt and laden with cards, chips, cigars, coasters, and mugs. Seven oddly assorted chairs were gathered around the table – exactly one chair for each man, including the ex-outlaw who knew perfectly well that his presence was no surprise. He knew he had been manipulated, but he didn't care. With a ton of work before him in the months to come, he felt the need for a little recreation.
A small stack of chips from each regular player came to make piles in front of Heyes. He pulled a piece of paper and a pencil from his briefcase and write out an IOU to each of his lenders.
"Deal, Heyes," said Cable, gesturing to the cards.
The famous gambler took the seat closest to the deck and took up the cards. They purred between his fingers as he shuffled with the smooth confidence of a master. The brown eyes gleamed with anticipation. He suggested, "Say, gentlemen, what about a little five card stud?"
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Historical notes – There really were coal mines with entrances right in the city limits of Louisville, Colorado, and very near by the town. The Fayette Mine is my invention. But the essential description of the mine is based on a book about coal mines in that area. That book also helped me with the gear the men wore. In a case at the Historical Museum in Louisville I saw a hat with a candle holder just like what I describe Heyes and the miners wearing. The danger to men getting injured as they rode elevators into mines is quite true, as the historian in Louisville informed me on my recent visit. It is also factual that the University of Colorado had a baseball team by 1891, though I have no idea if they had foul mouths. The frail University of Colorado librarian, Mr. Lowrey, was a real person, who went west for his health.
