s John dismounted in front of the federal building, postman Charlie Thatcher came out the door. When Charlie spotted him, he hurried over. “Chief Brockman, I just left a special-delivery letter with Deputy Allen. It's from Warden Sam Guthrie at the Colorado State Prison in Cañon City. Must be important.”

“I'd say so, Charlie. I'll read it before I do anything else.”

When the chief stepped into the outer office, Allen rose from his desk, letter in hand. “I saw you and Charlie talking, Chief. I'm sure he told you about this letter from Warden Guthrie.”

As John stepped forward, the deputy placed the letter in his hand.

“He sure did, Mike. Thanks.”

John sat down at his desk, alone in his office, opened the letter, and began to read. Guthrie wrote about how Whip Langford had saved his life and that Whip had been a model prisoner since the day Brockman brought him there to begin his five-year sentence.

Touched by Langford's brave deed, John smiled. “Good for you, Whip.”

He folded the letter, placed it in his shirt pocket, put on his jacket and his hat, and walked back to the outer office. Stopping at the desk, he said, “Mike, wait'll you hear this.”

John told Allen the details of the courageous deed Whip had done and how he no doubt had saved the warden's life.

“Wow! I guess that sort of makes Whip a hero, doesn't it?” “I'd say so,” the chief replied. “I'm going to the county court house to see Judge Dexter. I'll be back shortly.”

Midmorning the next day, Wednesday, October 5, a guard at the Colorado State Penitentiary approached Langford's cell. “Whip, Warden Guthrie wants to see you in his office. I'll take you there.”

As the guard unlocked the cell door, Whip looked at him through the bars. “What does he want to see me about?”

Swinging the door open, the guard said, “I have no idea, but you'll find out shortly.”

Moments later, Whip stood in the warden's office, and the guard left, closing the door behind him. Warden Guthrie rose to his feet behind his desk, holding up a yellow sheet of paper. “Whip, I just received this telegram from chief U.S. marshal John Brockman.”

“Oh?” Whip's eyebrows arched. “I assume it has something to do with me since you had me brought here.”

Guthrie smiled. “It sure does. I sent a letter to Chief Brockman last Thursday, the day you stopped those two convicts who were about to escape using me as a hostage, telling him all about it. In this telegram, Chief Brockman says he was so pleased about what you did that he took my letter to the judge who sentenced you.” The warden looked Whip in the eye. “You remember Judge Ralph Dexter.”

Whip nodded solemnly. “Yes sir.”

“Well, Judge Dexter was impressed with your deed too. And because of Chief Brockman's strong influence on your behalf, Judge Dexter has granted you a full pardon. You can leave the prison; you're a free man.”

Whip's head bobbed, and his mouth fell open. His eyes were twin pools of astonishment. “Y-you mean I—?” He gasped, leaving the words dangling. His heart pounded with heavy, measured beats.

The warden nodded with a smile. “Yes, Whip. I mean exactly what I just said. You're a free man.”

Whip shook his head in wonderment. “Warden Guthrie, thank you so much for sending that letter to Chief Brockman.”

The warden rounded his desk and laid a hand on Whip's shoulder. “Thank you for stopping the escape and saving my life!”

Whip's features flushed. “I'm glad I was able to do both, sir.”

Still holding Chief Brockman's telegram, Guthrie pointed to another yellow sheet of paper on his desk. “See that?”

Whip's brow furrowed. “Is that another telegram, sir?”

“It sure is. It's from Judge Dexter. He says the telegram is the official notice confirming your freedom.”

While Whip stood there, rooted in amazement, the warden walked back to his desk, pulled open a drawer, and took out an envelope. He reached across the desk and said, “Here, Whip. This is for you. There's enough money for you to take a stagecoach to Denver and buy some food along the way.”

A smile spread over Whip's face as he accepted the envelope. “Denver?”

“Yes. I figured you'd want to express your gratitude to Chief Brock-man for being instrumental in bringing about your pardon and to Judge Dexter for granting it.”

“Oh, you're right about that, sir! I sure do want to!”

“I had no doubt that you would. A stage leaves Cañon City for Denver at one o'clock this afternoon. I've already made a reservation for you.”

Whip's heart was still pounding heavily as he stretched his right hand out to the warden. “Thank you so much, sir!”

Guthrie grinned and grasped Whip's hand in a firm handshake. “It isn't much compared to what you did for me!”

At one o'clock that afternoon, Whip was on the Denver-bound Wells Fargo stage, riding with three Denver businessmen who had come to Cañon City a few days earlier for a meeting.

As the stage rolled north, Whip brimmed with warm feelings toward John Brockman for going to Judge Dexter on his behalf. As he looked out the window, Whip made up his mind that he had been completely wrong to live as an outlaw.

He was going to go straight.

On Friday afternoon, October 7, Whip arrived in Denver and hurried from the Wells Fargo office toward the federal building.

John Brockman was doing some paperwork at his desk when there was a knock on the door. He recognized Deputy Jensen's knock and called out, “Come in, Roland.”

The door opened, and Jensen said, “Chief, Whip Langford is here to see you.”

The chief smiled. “I figured he'd be showing up. Send him in.”

Jensen turned and called toward the front office, “Mr. Langford, Chief Brockman says you can come in right now.”

Seconds later, Whip walked past the deputy, thanking him for his kindness. Jensen smiled at him and closed the door on his way out of the chief's office.

John stepped around his desk and extended his hand. “Hello, Mr. Free Man.”

Whip gripped the chief's hand tightly. “I'm Mr. Free Man because of you. Thank you for what you did to see me set free.”

John squeezed Whip's hand even tighter. “After what you did to foil that prison break and, without a doubt, save Warden Guthrie's life, it was my pleasure to see if I could get you freed from prison. You deserve it.”

As they let go of each other's hands, Whip said, “I deserved to be locked up in the first place, Chief. And I want to tell you something.”

“Mm-hmm?”

“I'm through being an outlaw. Even if I'd had to serve my entire five-year sentence, I would still be turning away from my law-breaking ways. I'm sorry I ever was an outlaw. From now on, I'm going to be a decent, responsible citizen.”

A grin spread from ear to ear across John's face. “Great! I'm so glad to hear it!”

Smiling back, Whip said, “I knew you would be.”

John was silent for a moment, then looked Whip in the eye again. “You know something else that would make me happy?”

“What's that?”

“If you would open your heart to Jesus Christ and make Him your Saviour.”

This time it was Whip who was silent. “Chief, I'm just not ready to make that move, but tell you what. I'll give it some thought.”

John sighed. “I'm glad to hear you'll at least give it some thought, but I'm disappointed you won't go ahead and get saved. I've shown you many times from the Bible how to do so.”

Whip silently shrugged.

“I'm not giving up on you.” John wagged his finger at Whip in a friendly way. “I want you in heaven with me when this life is over.”

Whip looked up into the taller man's steel gray eyes. “You're some kind of guy, Chief. I'm glad you're my friend.”

John smiled at him. “Since you're through being an outlaw, you're going to need to make a living the right way. I think I might be able to get you a job with the Union Pacific Railroad at Denver's Union Station.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Chief, I deeply appreciate your willingness to help me. I've been thinking about what to do for a living but hadn't come up with anything yet. A railroad job sounds mighty good.”

“All right. I'll take you to Union Pacific Railroad office tomorrow morning and see if the manager will give you a job.”

John removed his wallet from his pocket, took out a couple of five-dollar bills, and said, “Here's more than enough money to get you a room at one of the hotels for the night and breakfast in the morning.”

The ex-outlaw's eyes lit up as he accepted the money. “Thank you, Chief.”

John's next statement shocked Whip. “And I want you to have supper at our home this evening.”

“You want me in your home?” Whip said, his eyes wide.

“I sure do, and I guarantee you that what you did at the prison last week has very much impressed my wife and children. They will welcome you!”

“What time will you be heading home, Chief?”

“I leave the office at five o'clock if things are normal.”

“Well, I'll be back here at five. I'll go ahead and get a hotel room. Then I want to go by Judge Dexter's office and thank him for granting my pardon.”

“Good. You do that. We can ride double on my horse, okay?” “Sure.” Whip headed for the door. “I'm honored that I'll get to meet your family and have supper with all of you.”

At precisely five o'clock, John swung atop Blackie after allowing Whip to mount up and sit behind the saddle. Whip had informed John that he'd rented a room at the Mountain View Hotel, a few blocks from the federal building. He also told him of his brief meeting with Judge Dexter and how pleased the judge was that he had come to see him.

As they rode westward out of town, John talked to Whip about salvation again. When Whip tried to change subjects, John reminded him that nobody knows how long he will live. He told Whip that if he were to die that very night, he would be in hell.

Whip tried to be nice about it and said he would give it some thought, as he had promised the chief.

John's heart was burdened for the young man. “Whip, you'd best start giving it some thought right away.”

“I will do that.”

At the Brockman ranch, Ginny and Meggie were at the barn and corral with Paul, watching him do his regular chores while Breanna and Annabeth Cooper were beginning to prepare supper in the kitchen.

Ordinarily Breanna didn't work at the hospital on Fridays, but a regular nurse had become ill two days earlier, and Breanna had volunteered to work in her place. The day had been a trying one. Breanna and Annabeth had worked together all day on one surgery after another and hadn't even been able to take time for lunch.

Standing at the cupboard, Annabeth at her side, Breanna wiped a palm over her face. “Whew! Annabeth, are you as tired as I am?”

She nodded. “I would say I am.”

“Well, let's cook something quick and easy for supper,” Breanna said.

“I'm for that,” replied the weary brunette. “Any suggestions?”

Breanna smiled. “I've got quite a bit of roast chicken left over from a couple of days ago. We can use that and make dumplings. How about some cornbread, applesauce, and green beans? Does that sound okay?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Breanna opened a cupboard drawer and took out two aprons, handing one to her friend. At the same instant they heard Paul, Ginny, and Meggie mounting the steps of the back porch. Both women were donning their aprons as the children entered the kitchen.

“Supper ready, Mama?” Paul asked.

Breanna gave him a mock frown. “No. We've been waiting for you to come cook supper for us.”

Meggie, who loved to tease her new brother, made a face and said, “Yuck! If Paul's cooking supper, Ginny and I will walk to town and eat at the Horseshoe Café!”

Ginny laughed and looked at her brother. “Amen, Meggie, amen!”

Annabeth and Breanna were giggling when they and the children heard a horse trot into the yard and draw up at the back porch.

Breanna stepped to the kitchen window and looked out. “It's your papa, kids. He's got a man with him I don't recognize. But I guess we're about to find out who he is.”

Paul edged up beside his mother and looked at his father and the man as they hopped to the ground from Blackie's back. “You don't suppose it's Whip Langford, do you? Papa told us he was getting out of prison for keeping those two prisoners from escaping and for saving the warden's life.”

“Oh!” Breanna said. “It sure might be him!”

Paul ran to the kitchen door, put his hand on the knob, and looked at his sisters. “Wanna go with me and see if it's him?”

The girls were headed that way when the doorknob turned. Paul jumped back as his father opened the door and stepped in.

John looked around the room. “Howdy, everyone! Guess who I brought home with me.”

Every eye was fixed on the tall, slender man who stepped in beside John. Paul's eyes twinkled as he said, “It's Whip Langford, isn't it, Papa?”

Breanna's hand went to her mouth, and Annabeth's eyes locked on the handsome, rugged-looking man. Ginny and Meggie gazed at the stranger with interest.

John smiled at Paul. “You're right, son. This is Whip Langford, all right. I didn't expect him so soon, but here he is!”

Whip moved his gaze from person to person, smiling and nodding politely, but he didn't know what to say.

John gestured toward Breanna. “Whip, this is my wife, Breanna.”

The lovely blonde stepped up to the ex-outlaw and extended her hand. “My husband has kept us up to date on your prison situation and told us of your heroic deed. I'm so glad you've been released.”

Whip took her proffered hand. “It is very nice to meet you, ma'am.”

“And it's very nice to meet you, Mr. Langford.”

The ex-convict blushed. “You can call me Whip, ma'am.”

Breanna smiled and nodded.

John then introduced Paul, Ginny, and Meggie as his son and daughters. Paul shook hands with Whip; then the girls did the same thing.

John gestured toward Annabeth, whose long brunette hair trailed down her back to her waist. “Whip, this young lady, Annabeth Cooper, is a nurse at Mile High Hospital. Breanna and Annabeth work together a lot, especially in the surgical ward.”

Annabeth stepped forward and extended her hand, and Whip took it in a gentlemanly manner. “I am glad to meet you, ma'am.”

Annabeth smiled. “Same here.”

Breanna spoke up. “Whip, I'm so happy you were pardoned by Judge Dexter and set free.”

“Mrs. Brockman, if it weren't for your husband, it never would have happened. I owe your husband an awful lot.”

“You're right,” Paul said. “You do owe my father a lot. Papa is the best lawman in all the world.”

“That's right,” said Ginny.

“He sure is,” put in Meggie.

Breanna told John about her and Annabeth's exceptionally busy day. They had just arrived home a short time ago. She told him they would have plenty of food to include Whip for supper. With Ginny and Meggie helping, supper would be ready in about half an hour.

John took his guest and his son with him to the parlor, and Breanna put the two girls to work setting the table in the dining room while she and Annabeth prepared supper. “Annabeth,” Breanna said, “there's apple pie in the cupboard, and I also have some bread pudding. We can have that for dessert along with coffee for the adults and milk for the kids.”

“That sounds good to me. A veritable feast put together by two tired nurses!” They giggled as they hurriedly prepared the “feast.”

Soon the Brockmans and their guests sat down at the dining room table, and Whip bowed his head and closed his eyes with the others when John offered thanks to the Lord for their food.

As the meal progressed, Whip learned from the conversation that Annabeth was a dedicated Christian. John explained that she had recently been widowed when her husband, Steve, a prison guard at Arizona Territorial Prison in Yuma, had been killed during a prison break.

With soft eyes, Whip looked at Annabeth across the table. “I sure am sorry for your loss, Mrs. Cooper. Steve's job as a prison guard showed that he had been a good man.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Langford. I'm glad Chief Brockman helped you get out of prison.”

Whip thanked her. He did not show it, but he was taken with Annabeth's beauty and warm personality.

As the meal went on, Paul boldly asked Whip what had caused him to become an outlaw in the first place. Whip blushed as he replied that only his own stupidity had drawn him to the life of an outlaw. “I am so sorry I was ever that foolish. Now I plan to do my best to make something good of my life.”

Paul smiled. “I'm glad to hear you say that, Mr. Langford. You see, when I get old enough, I'm going to be a lawman like my dad.”

Whip swallowed his mouthful of food and smiled back. “I hope you're able to fulfill your dream, Paul.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I wish I had become a lawman instead of a foolish outlaw.”

Paul nodded. “Maybe now, since you're turning your life around, you should consider becoming a lawman.”

The others looked on with interest as Whip replied, “There's no way I could become a lawman with my background in crime.”

Paul looked at his father. “Papa, what do you think?”

John shrugged his wide shoulders. “Well, son, only God could make that happen.”

Paul laid his fork on his plate and looked at Whip. “I know my father well enough to know that he has talked to you about salvation.”

Whip was sipping from his coffee cup. He set it back in the saucer, nodded, and said in a low voice, “Uh…yes, Paul.”

Paul's brow furrowed. “Have you opened your heart to Jesus?”

Whip's face flushed. “No…I haven't.”

Catching the chief's eyes on him, Whip said to Paul, “But I've been thinking about all the things your father has shown me in the Bible about heaven and hell.”

“You need to think real hard about them, Mr. Langford. As our pastor often says, nobody knows but that the sunrise they see in the morning may be their last.”

Whip grinned. “Paul, you are a lot like your father.”

John gazed at Whip and said, “I'm mighty proud of my boy.”

John looked at Ginny and Meggie. “My girls are a lot like their mother, who is also a strong witness for the Lord.”

Whip smiled at Breanna and the girls but did not comment.

When the meal was over and the dishes had been done, John and Breanna took Whip and Annabeth into town in the family buggy, with Paul, Ginny, and Meggie riding along. Whip was let off at the Mountain View Hotel. Then the Brockmans headed for Annabeth's apartment.

As they rode along by the light of the street lamps, Annabeth, who was sitting beside Breanna on the driver's seat, looked at Breanna and John. “I'm really amazed at Whip. He doesn't seem like an outlaw.”

“I've thought the same thing,” Breanna said. “Just to look at him, you would never think he could commit a crime.”

John turned to the ladies. “Whip will look even better when he opens his heart to Jesus.”

“For sure, darling,” Breanna agreed.

“I can hardly wait till he gets born again,” said Annabeth. “He'll really be a pleasant-looking fellow then!”

The three children in the rear of the buggy joined in the conversation, and the Brockmans and Annabeth discussed Whip Langford until the buggy halted in front of Annabeth's apartment building. Paul hopped out and helped her down from the driver's seat. She thanked him for his kindness and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Paul surprised Annabeth by walking her to the front door of the building.

Moments later John had the buggy rolling westward out of town, and soon there was no more talking. As they traveled alongside the Platte River, John noted silence from the children behind him. Then Breanna's head slumped over and rested on his shoulder. He smiled, caressed her face, and whispered, “I know someone who has had a long, hard day.”

Glancing to the rear of the buggy, John chuckled. By the silver moonlight, he saw Paul sitting between Ginny and Meggie, his head bent forward. John knew the boy was asleep, as were the girls, who were leaning against their big brother.

Snapping the reins gently, John said, “Come on, Daisy, let's get my tired family home.” The horse began trotting a little faster.

The next morning, Saturday, October 8, John's first task was to ride Chance into town to pick up Whip. At eight thirty they entered the office of Bradley Higgins, the manager of Denver's Union Pacific Railroad.

Bradley and John were good friends, and John introduced him to Whip Langford, saying he had brought Whip to see if Bradley would give him a job. The station manager found the name quite familiar. He recalled reading in the Rocky Mountain News that outlaw Whip Lang-ford had been sentenced to five years in the Colorado State Penitentiary. He frowned. “Why is Langford out of prison, Chief?”

John told him the whole story and while doing so used his influence to persuade Higgins that Whip was a changed man, was ashamed of his outlaw past, and wanted a chance to become a good, responsible citizen. He needed a job.

Bradley was especially moved when John told him how Whip had prevented the armed prisoners from escaping and no doubt saved the warden's life.

Bradley said that because of how John felt toward Whip, he would give him a job as a laborer at Union Station. Whip was thrilled to be hired and thanked Mr. Higgins for his kindness. John also thanked him for giving Whip the job.

Whip thanked Chief Brockman for his help, and Bradley rushed Whip away to put him to work with some other men in the station. John mounted Chance and headed toward his office.