More months passed. The Governor asked Mayor Hanson to come to the capitol to discuss the Oswald case with him; he wished to know its history; more than all else he wanted to know the part, if any, the two women had in it. And the months passed slowly on. Meantime the railroad was being stretched westward from the lake's old terminus; graders and track-layers added new miles daily in the grand exertion of the Empire Builder to make good his boast that trains would run to Mouse River before Christmas. The mayor had his hands full with trying to maintain order in the overcrowded town; the sheriff, the police with their numerous deputies, the court officials and the lawyers worked overtime; the Oswald trial was forgotten. From evidences of her faith and devotion Billy's parents gradually became reconciled to his attachment to the exceptional woman; at last they accepted May as the one and only lump of leaven which could redeem the now penitent prisoner and start him on the way to a new and better life. They sent her funds, in which she took her only real pleasure by spending for things for Billy. From her own family back in New England, modest sums had been coming since news had reached home that Pat had been killed. This, with what she realized from the sale of her furniture, had maintained the two with their frugal habits through the long vigils at the capitol. The Governor's interest in the case of this attractive girl continued and as time passed it increased, for he was collecting information on his own account; he called Kit before him for questioning. "Sure and the poor girl had the best bring'n up. Faith, an didn't I do it mesel'? Sure, an' she gets money from her home folks now, she does; an' she lives on'y for th' poor hard work'n boy in th' stripes; bad cess to his kill'n of Pat." With the passing of the railroad building rush the Mayor at last met the Governor at his office in the State House, and he had with him bearing the signature of the members of the jury that had convicted Billy, a petition now seeking pardon. The Governor, knowing the leading part the former burgess had taken in the celebrated case, asked Hanson if he would approve a pardon. "Only on condition that he agrees to leave the state," was his reply. And then he went to talk it over with Billy in his cell. Billy asked the Mayor's forgiveness for all the trouble he had made him. He promised on oath that he would marry May and take her to the far away stock ranch of his father where they would live as they should and wished most sincerely to live. "You and my family and all my friends will be proud of us and you will wish us well, so help me God," was Billy's parting words to Hanson as he turned toward the prison gate to sign for the pardon which the Governor was waiting at his office to grant. The evening train met an extraordinary assemblage when it drew up at the station platform; it was a cheerful and cheering multitude. In the center of it stood Billy nattily dressed in civilian suit. Beside him was his beautifully attired bride with the faithful Kit close by. The Governor pressed in to offer his congratulations; in his hand was a great sheaf of telegrams that had piled up on his desk since signing the pardon, all expressive of his humane act and wishing success to Billy, and joy and happiness for the wonderful woman who had stood so loyally by him. A tear-wet face lit up with a smile, showed when the Governor shook hands with the bride and groom with a hearty, "God bless and prosper you both; and take good care of Kit." A mighty cheer rose from the crowded depot yard as the west bound "Pioneer Limited" got under way.