Heyes crept in the door of his shared room in the dark of the wee hours. He hoped that he hadn't woken Jim, but wasn't sure. He thought of the number of times that he and the Kid had snuck back into shared hotel rooms after their respective romantic liaisons. The Kid didn't ever say anything really critical about being awoken by his prowling partner – nor did Heyes attack the Kid for his frequent nocturnal adventures. A little teasing and griping went back and forth, of course. But that was just fun between friends. Heyes hoped that Jim would be as understanding as the Kid was, or even a little more. He shrank from being teased for pleasure-seeking that had caused him little but pain.
Of course, Heyes overslept badly the next day. He could hardly drag himself to the clinic, long after Jim was there. As Heyes walked down the long, dirty Manhattan street, he felt numb, as if he was floating a few inches above the ground. He was in the last stages of exhaustion, both physical and emotional. Heyes labored up the steep stairs, mortified to be late again. And he was racked with guilt at making no progress at the clinic. He was wasting their time and money, day after day. He was living disgracefully on charity. He wasn't up to even coping with the question of what he could possibly do if he never could learn to speak again.
As Heyes walked down the clinic's long, narrow hall and neared Dr. Leutze's door, he heard footsteps approaching rapidly from the hall behind him. He turned to see a pair of blue-clad policemen hurrying towards him. They pointed towards him and one yelled, "Here, you, stop! Hold it right there! Hands up!"
Heyes, with all the times he had faced the law, felt more terrified this time than he ever had. Without the Kid, without his gun or his voice, Heyes couldn't begin to think of anything that he could possibly do – except to surrender. He tamely put up his hands, as he had done far too many times before.
The policemen stepped forward, handcuffs at the ready. Heyes stood frozen, his thoughts racing. Through him, the law would find the Kid. The Kid and Cat too, would be caught and jailed, if they could not get away in time. And there was no way for Heyes to warn them – no way at all. He could neither speak nor write. He was utterly helpless.
"Not you – him!" said the policeman, shoving his way past Heyes. Sam, the silent patient and porter, had been hiding behind a file cabinet in the hall. "Get out of the way!" the policeman ordered Heyes, "let us at this brute!"
To Sam, who couldn't understand a word, the officer said, "You, put your hands up! Put your hands up! You're coming with us!" Sam just stood there, trembling, without a clue of what to do. Heyes was panting with relief, but grieved by Sam's predicament. The policemen had to grab Sam's hands and force his wrists into the handcuffs. Sam did not resist – he simply did not know what the men wanted him to do.
Heyes wished he could help Sam in some way. The two men had begun to make friends, united as they were by their silence and frustration. Heyes, who had been arrested so often, understood all too well the fear Sam was feeling. But there was nothing he could do about it except to stay with his friend. Sam tried to grab onto Joshua Smith, but the policemen pulled him away.
Dr. Leutze stormed into the hall. "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded. "I'm in charge of this clinic and this man is my patient. Why are you arresting him? Be careful there, don't hurt him!" Sam looked desperately at the doctor, worried by the angry tone of his voice.
One of the policemen answered Dr. Leutze, "He assaulted a woman, Doctor. A clerk in a tobacco shop. We happened to be just outside the shop where it happened. He wouldn't say anything for himself – he just ran here. He won't listen to anything we say – is he some kind of idiot? What is this place, anyway?"
"This is the Leutze Clinic for Aphasia – we treat people who have suffered a head injury or a stroke and cannot speak or have other problems with language use. I am Dr. Leutze. Believe me, Sam Terwilliger is completely sane and he's no idiot – but he is utterly unable to speak and he understands little speech." Dr. Leutze kept his voice calm and looked at Sam rather than at the policeman as he spoke. He could communicate with Sam only through the tone of his voice.
"That's too bad that he can't speak for himself, but we've got to bring him in," answered a gruff policeman. The policemen were at a loss about how to deal with a suspect who couldn't talk.
"And who is this man?" asked the second policeman, pointing at Heyes. The former outlaw was still standing by, with his hand on Sam's shoulder, trying to keep his friend calm. Heyes couldn't help looking very anxious about his first encounter with the New York police.
The policeman asked Joshua Smith, "Are you a friend of this man Terwilliger? Will you come to the police station and help us with him?"
Joshua nodded. To help his friend to get through what he had to endure, Heyes was willing to put up with whatever it took. He was perfectly willing to confront his own fear of the law head-on.
Dr. Leutze interrupted, "Mr. Smith is a patient who hasn't been here long, so he cannot speak and he doesn't know Mr. Terwilliger very well. There is no reason for him to come to the police station with us. I can come with you and translate for Mr. Terwilliger."
Joshua grasped Dr. Leutze's hand and gestured toward Sam and the policemen. Dr. Leutze looked thoroughly perplexed about why Joshua would want to go to the police station, but could see that he did. "Alight, Joshua. Do you really want to come?" Joshua nodded, trying not to panic. He looked his sympathy at Sam, feeling very strongly for what the man was going through, since he had been through it so often himself.
It was a clearly agitated Joshua Smith who accompanied Dr. Leutze in a cab following the horse-drawn paddy wagon to the police station. Dr. Leutze tried to ask him why he wanted to come, but Heyes was unable to give him any answer. He sure couldn't say "I've been arrested a dozen times and I want to help my friend to get through it! I know how awful it is! It must be much worse when he can't speak or even understand English!"
As they arrived at the police station, Heyes got out of the cab and stared up at the façade in dread. He had never entered a headquarters of the law willingly in his life. And this place was bigger and more frightening than any sheriff’s office Heyes had ever seen. His heart was pounding and his breath was rapid and shallow. He could see that Dr. Leutze was aware of, and baffled by, his distress. Heyes swallowed his fears and climbed up the stairs and then walked in the big double door on his doctor’s heels.
At the police station all the attention was centered on Sam Terwilliger and Dr. Leutze. Dr. Leutze was convinced that Sam had just been trying to use gestures to communicate with the shop keeper whom he was accused of assaulting. Sam had evidently touched the woman in the course of trying to tell her what he wanted and she, seeing that he couldn't speak, had jumped to conclusions and become frightened.
Sam was utterly flummoxed by this situation that he couldn't understand. They had to virtually peal him off of Heyes and the doctor to put him in a cell. It took a couple of hours for Dr. Leutze to make his official statement and to convince the woman who had brought charges to think about dropping them. It was impossible for Heyes to make any statement at all, of course. Sam had to remain in a cell for that night and lawyers would be called in the next day.
When Sam had been locked away and Dr. Leutze was making his statement, no one paid any attention to Joshua Smith. He wasn’t allowed to stay near Sam’s cell, so he wandered around the large police station.
As Dr. Leutze said good-bye to the policemen and prepared to leave, Joshua plucked his sleeve. His eyes were wide and every muscle in his face was tense. "What in God's name is the matter, Joshua?" asked the doctor.
Joshua Smith silently beckoned for his doctor to follow him into another room. There they found a long wall plastered from ceiling to floor with wanted posters. They were from all over the country, from New York to California. Near the center were two yellowing posters, matching except for the featured names in bold capital letters: Kid Curry, slightly overlapping the poster for Hannibal Heyes. Both posters offered the bounty of $10,000.00 to anyone who brought in Heyes or Curry, dead or alive. A tall, grey-haired policeman they hadn't met before walked through the room and happened to see Joshua Smith pointing to that pair of western posters and Dr. Leutze following his gaze. He chuckled, "Yeah, we got posters from everywhere. Can't leave out those famous western ones. We sure won't be the ones to catch Heyes and Curry, but people like to see the names and read the descriptions. Somebody'll catch 'em one day, and won't they be rich!" The policeman laughed and went on.
When the policeman was safely gone, Heyes gestured to his poster again and pointed to himself. Leutze looked at him, mystified. "Are you saying that you know the man?"
Heyes shifted his feet nervously and shook his head. He held out his hands to Leutze, joined at the wrists as if in handcuffs. Leutze read the Heyes and Kid Curry posters. Then he read them again, with his mouth dropping open. He shook his head, trying to deny what was becoming all too plain. "Joshua Smith's" resemblance to the description of Hannibal Heyes, and "Thaddeus Jones'" resemblance to the description of Kid Curry were both unmistakable. Leutze grabbed Heyes by the shoulders and guided him toward the station door. Once they were out on the sidewalk, Leutze looked at his patient and whispered, "Honest to Pete, Smith, are you telling me that you are Hannibal Heyes the infamous outlaw?"
Heyes looked at the ground and closed his eyes in agony. He nodded and held out his hands again, as if he were already in hand cuffs. The doctor spoke in a very low voice, waiting to say anything until he was sure that no one else was near enough to hear him. "You can't really want to be arrested? It's obvious that you aren't active as a criminal anymore. Are you?"
Heyes shook his head. "And your partner, he's gone straight too?" Heyes nodded and dared to look into Leutze's eyes to show how strongly he felt. "But you want me to know who you are. Just to be honest with me? So I'll know who I'm helping?" Heyes nodded, keeping eye contact with his doctor. He put out his wrists together again and gestured back to the police station.
Leutze looked at him in desperate puzzlement. "Wait, you do still want to be arrested?" Heyes stood still, not confirming or denying this statement. "You – can you be worried that I could be in trouble for, what is the phrase, 'aiding and abetting a fugitive from the law?'" Heyes nodded emphatically and then studied the ground in shame. "You don't want to put me in danger." The doctor became excited. "That's it! That's what's been bothering you all along – you don't want to endanger me and my colleagues! Oh, for goodness sake man, no one is going to find you here, if you are at all careful! I wouldn't think of turning you in. I took an oath – 'First, do no harm.' I wouldn't harm you, or your partner, not for anything. I give you my word on that! You came to the police station when you didn't have to come. You put yourself in the worst possible danger for a friend who can't even thank you. What kind of man would I be if I turned you into the law for such a brave and generous act?" Heyes stared at the doctor, his mouth open in amazement and his eyes full of gratitude.
Leutze held up his hand to catch the eye of a passing cabby. "We're going back to the clinic," he told his patient. "And you're coming with me, Mr. Heyes. You're safe here with me."
When they got back to the clinic, Dr. Leutze took Heyes into his office. “Mr. Heyes, you can go now. You must be exhausted. But tomorrow, Heyes, be here on time. Tomorrow we get started and you WILL do your best work. Now, go get some sleep. No more nightmares! You are safe here." Heyes blinked hard and nodded.
Heyes and Dr. Leutze heard Jim outside the door, stuttering in a conversation with one of the therapists. Heyes pointed toward the door, and the man on the other side of it, and put his finger to his lips. Dr. Leutze, expert at reading such signs, understood at once. "Of course I won't tell Jim! He hero worships you – I mean what he's read about you, Heyes. If he knew who you really are, he'd make your life miserable, and the word would get out at once. He's faithful, but he's young and can be indiscrete. No, I won't tell anyone without your permission. Let me repeat – you are safe with me!"
Heyes was so weary that the Doctor called him a cab to take him back to Jim's place. As soon as Heyes got to their room, he fell into an exhausted and relieved sleep. Obviously, Jim had ratted him out, revealing Heyes' nightmares to Dr. Leutze. But Heyes couldn't find it in his heart to be annoyed at his roommate. Privacy was one thing – safety was another.
Heyes was glad that to hear the next day that the police had released Sam when his accuser dropped all charged. Heyes only hoped that he wouldn't hear from the police himself, despite the good doctor's assurances.