Summary:  A simple little mystery.

Rating:  K  (17,450)

                                                    Questions and Answers

Adam Cartwright reached into his vest pocket and drew out his wallet. “Sam” he said, “Let me know when that’s all gone and I’ll get you some more.” He smacked his black hat down on the bar, rolled his shoulders and flexed his hands into fists just once. “You ready?” he growled.

Joseph Cartwright reached down and untied his holster and unbuckled the belt, never taking his eye off of his brother standing there in front of him. Like Adam, he took off his hat and laid it down beside his rolled gunbelt on the bar, picked up his beer and finished it before replying to Adam.

The reply was a solid right hook into Adam’s mid section. The force of the blow surprised Adam and he allowed himself to take a step back before he threw an uppercut to Joe’s jaw that staggered the younger man back more than just a few paces, Adam saw with a touch of glee. Eyes locked on one another now, Adam saw Joe’s cheek twitch on the side he had just hit.

The two men were wary combatants. Each knew the other’s strengths and weaknesses oh so well but that wouldn’t keep the brothers from testing them again. With his longer reach, Adam would try to keep Joe at arm’s length. Problem was, the force of the punch would be reduced the further away from his shoulder the target was and right then the target was Joe’s jaw. And his weak point. To be effective, Adam had to be closer. To be closer was to be inside Joe’s range for close-in fighting was Joe’s style, where he could bring in a blow that had originated somewhere closer to the floor. More than once Adam had seen his brother’s upper cut lift a bigger man clean off the ground. And Joe was now headed right towards him.

Adam dropped his shoulder and met his brother full on with another blow that threw the younger man onto one of the felt-topped card tables with enough force that the table broke in half. Ouch! That had to hurt Adam thought but that was as far as he got into sympathy for he found himself going over backwards as Joe had reached out with one long leg and tripped him. In his vain attempt to keep from hitting the floor, he grabbed at the back of a chair and wound up with it laid across him.

Looking up he saw Joe, on his feet and not stopping to wipe the blood from his lip as he swayed slightly. Good, maybe it’ll slow him down enough I can nail his sorry little butt. And Adam threw the chair at his encroaching brother.

Joe reflexively put up an arm to deflect the chair and it skittered over the bar, breaking glasses and mugs as it went. It ended up not two inches from where Sam stood, Adam’s open wallet before him, counting out the greenbacks onto the bar. Sam never broke his count, but pushed the chair back over into the patrons’ area of the saloon.

By now the two brothers were on their feet grappling one with the other, more wrestling than punching. But with Adam’s height and weight advantage, Joe was taking more of the falls. Another table broke as they had both landed on it and when it did, sent more glasses to their death. Joe was finally able to land a solid blow again to Adam’s midriff and he watched as his oldest brother crashed backwards into the stair railing, splintering it. Maybe now he won’t get up Joe prayed but Adam got shakily to his feet anyway and started advancing on him again. This time, Joe stood his ground, waiting for Adam to come within reach so he could end it once and for all with another solid punch to the middle since that was Adam’s Achilles heel. The broken chair that lay between them, Joe grabbed and sent flying to the side, out of the way. He heard more glass breaking and figured one of the plate glass windows had broken but he wasn’t going to take his eye off Adam to see.

Before he got within his brother’s effective range, Adam pulled himself up straight, even though his stomach muscles hurt to do so. Change strategies, he thought. If you can’t out punch him, out think him. He stopped and looked at his little brother, studying him carefully. He watched as Joe rolled his shoulders and brought his hand up in a beckoning motion, his lips drawing into a thin line, his green eyes hard as the emeralds they resembled. His brother’s hair was a wild torrent of curls about his head and Adam watched for what he knew Joe would do next: push his hair away from his face with one forearm. It was something he had done all his life and put him at a momentary disadvantage. When it came, Adam took the reward and hit Joe’s solid stomach with a blow that started down at his heels and came up with all the back and leg strength behind it he could muster. As a result, Joe was lifted off of the floor and through the remaining plate glass window of the Bucket of Blood.

When Joe didn’t reappear instantly, Adam heaved a sigh of relief that it was over. Walking over to the bar, he surveyed the damage done and decided that there had to be enough money left in his wallet for a beer and asked Sam to set him up with one. He wiped his split lip with the back of his hand and let the cool beer swish around in his mouth before he swallowed it, washing away the aftertaste of the fight. He gingerly felt his right cheek and looking into the mirror behind the bar saw the beginnings of a good set of bruises coming on his jaw as well.

“Uh, Adam,” Sam stuttered, “You’re a bit short here. Need another four bucks to cover the damages.” And handed Adam back his wallet, considerably thinner than before.

“Give me a minute, will ya?” and still breathing heavily, Adam stepped out into the bright daylight of the street, looking to the knot of people gathered in front of the saloon. Sam followed him.

“Excuse me, folks,” Adam said in his most polite tone, parting the people before him gently. As he got to the center of the knot, he knelt down by his brother’s side. Joe was out cold. Adam reached into his brother’s jacket, pulled out his wallet and handed Sam a five-dollar bill he found there, before shoving the wallet back.

With a grunt of pain, Adam pulled his brother’s inert form to a sitting position then hoisted Joe over his shoulder and stood up carefully. He nearly dropped him as his own legs threatened to give way, but with a slight adjustment to the dead weight by putting more of Joe’s torso at his back, he was able to stand.

One if the saloon girls, Adam couldn’t remember her name, came out holding Joe’s gunbelt and both hats out to him. Adam thanked her, putting his own hat on his head, perching Joe’s on the younger man’s butt and slinging the gunbelt over his open shoulder.

The crowd parted easily enough for Adam as he made his way though them. Some of the townspeople watched him saunter away, others just turned to go about their own business. He stopped in front of the two horses tied in front of the barbershop and looked from the barber’s chair to the horses several times before making up his mind.

Going to the side of his brother’s pinto, he tossed him, belly down, into the saddle. Adam took Joe’s tan hat and plopped it over the saddle horn. He untied the reins of both horses and holding his protesting stomach muscles, mounted his own tall chestnut. He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure Joe was far enough over the back of the horse that he wouldn’t fall off then tugged at the reins.

“Come on Cochise, let’s get home.” And he nudged his horse into a walk, the pinto following close behind.

*

Adam was beginning to be more than a bit worried. They had been out of town for a good hour or more and Joe still wasn’t showing any sign of coming around. Finally Adam pulled over to the side of the road, close to where a small stream meandered through one of the many green valleys of the Ponderosa. With more than one groan, he pulled his brother’s slight form from the back of the pinto and let him down gently onto the soft grass.

“Come on Joe. Wake up,” and he gently slapped at the cheek that before he had belted. “Come on, little brother. Come on.” But there was no response.

Adam went down the bank to the little stream to wet his handkerchief. As he did so he kept thinking that he hadn’t hit Joe that hard, had he?

Running the damp cool cloth across his brother’s face made Adam wince. The bruises were coming up quickly now and Joe had gone from his normally healthy tan color to almost a chalky white. Adam continued to talk to him, calling his name but there was still no sign Joe had heard him. Adam lifted an eyelid, hoping to see bright green but didn’t. He checked at the side of Joe’s neck for a pulse and was relieved to find one, faint and thready, but there. For a long moment Adam watched his brother’s chest move as he breathed, subconsciously copying the respiration pattern with his own and realized that Joe was taking short and ragged breaths.

Concern was beginning to mount the scale into near panic. Adam rocked back onto his heels and scanned the countryside. He was closer to the ranch house than he was to town. With Joe breathing like that, face down over a saddle wasn’t going to help the situation but how could Adam leave and go for help? No, he had to get him upright in the saddle and get him to the house.

He straightened up and nearly passed out with the effort. The stomach muscles that before had been just sore were screaming in protest now. If his horse hadn’t been standing right there so he could grab onto the saddle horn, Adam knew he would have fallen to the ground, useless to both he and Joe.

But that gave him an idea. Both horses would return to the barn on their own and that would signal help, certainly if not from one of the hands, from his father or Hoss. But only send one horse, he thought. Keep the other one here so help can spot us. And without another thought, he grabbed up the reins to Sport, tied them over the horse’s neck and swatted the big animal on the rump, sending it home. Cochise shied at the motion but stayed put where the reins had been dropped.

Adam crumpled to the ground, all his energy spent now, his stomach heaving in distress as he wrapped his arms around it. Just before he lost consciousness the thought that he hadn’t hit his brother that hard kept running through his mind.

**

“Well, Hoss, looks like we beat your brothers home.” Ben Cartwright made the comment as he stepped down from his horse in the wide yard in front of the barn.

“Aw, Pa, you know them two’s probably chasing skirts.” And Hoss chuckled at his own joke but quit when he saw his father wasn’t in the least bit amused by it.

“I sent them to town to pick up the payroll, not go womanizing. Besides, that’s why I sent both of them.” And handed his reins to Hoss. “Take care of my horse.”

Pa sure is in a black mood today, Hoss thought, leading both horses into the barn. Them two brothers of mine better show up pretty durn quick or I’ll.. And was relieved to hear the sound of a running horse in the yard. That durn Joe! How many times has Pa warned him about riding into the yard at a full gallop? I ought to go out there and wallop him good for Pa.

But when he glanced out the barn door, all he could see was Adam’s chestnut stallion, sides heaving and lathered. This ain’t good Hoss thought and moved out to the horse, gently calling the horse’s name. Sport rolled his eyes and danced as Hoss caught the reins.

He was still calming the horse when he heard his father’s footsteps behind him.

“What in tarnation……?” Ben started but then stopped himself. This horse had run hard. Too hard. Quickly Ben went to the saddlebags and opened them. They were empty except for the emergency items always carried there.

Ben was trying to calm his rampaging heart. They’ve been robbed. Oh God, I know they have.. he thought but told Hoss to get their horses back out. “Now.”

***

At the same time his horse was sliding to a stop in the yard, Adam was coming back to consciousness. The first sensation he had was that he could hear water trickling nearby. Thinking that a drink of cool water would go pretty good right then, he started to get to his feet. That was when the second set of sensations hit him and these weren’t near as pleasant. These were ones of agony ripping through his abdomen and up into his chest. His face and hands hurt as well. He was disoriented and had no concept momentarily of where he was and what had happened. He managed to get to his hands and knees before a bout of nausea overcame him. When it passed, he finally got his eyes to focus well enough that he could tell that his brother lay there in the grass with him as well. But Joe wasn’t moving.

Adam crawled to his brother’s head, anxious. He called his name and shook Joe’s shoulder but got no response at all. Not even an eyelid fluttering. Frantic now, Adam shook him harder. But got the same response. Nothing.

Cochise snorted and drew Adam’s attention. Still disoriented, Adam thought perhaps he could get Joe onto the pinto and tried to get to his feet. But once again, the pain lanced through him hotly, muscles tearing now and he fell back to the ground, unable to more than groan aloud, hands gripping his belly, seeking to assuage the pain away. The spasms rolled over him one after another until he lay gasping, soaked in sweat. Finally the pains quieted and retreated. Adam reached out a shaky hand to touch his brother. But he had fallen too far from Joe. So only able to give distant comfort, Adam slipped back into the dark void of unconsciousness, his brother’s name on his lips.

****

Ben and Hoss hadn’t had to ride very far when off to the side of the road, beneath some sheltering trees, they saw Joe’s familiar black and white pinto, head down, motionless.

At first glance, Ben’s heart went to his throat, for he could see his two sons crumpled to the ground, Joseph’s pale face bloody and Adam’s long form curled into a knot.

Nearly jumping from Buck, Ben ran to the two bodies in the grass, quickly knelt between them and put his hand to Joseph’s chest, willing it to move. When it did ever so slightly, Ben turned to Adam and rolled him onto his back and heard Adam take a shuddering breath.

“Get back to the house. Get the buckboard. Send a man into town for Doc Martin and Roy.” Ben shouted out orders but it was an effort not needed. Hoss hadn’t even dismounted, but whirled his horse and headed back the way they had just come, pushing his horse into a hard run.

Several hours later as darkness swept down over the ranch, Hoss paced back and forth before the fireplace. He could feel no warmth and took no comfort from the fire within. The doctor had been upstairs far too long for his liking. Doc Martin had run Ben out of Adam’s room early on, keeping only Hop Sing there to help him. And Doc had taken one look at the youngest Cartwright, and shoved Ben into the bedside chair and told him to stay there. Hoss he had never even let into either room.

“Have some coffee, Hoss,” Sheriff Roy Coffee laid a hand easily in the big man shoulder, putting a cup into his hand.

Hoss just scowled at the cup.

“Now tell me again about what you saw there. There weren’t any tracks, you said.” Roy tried to get Hoss to speak but Hoss just shook his head.

Once again, Roy ran over the events of the day in his mind. He’d seen the two Cartwright boys in town earlier. They had been across the street, going into the Bucket of Blood. After he had come back from the restaurant where he had had his lunch at, Clem, his deputy, had told him the two brothers had made a shambles out of the saloon but Sam wasn’t pressing charges since all the damages had been paid, in cash, by them. From what he had understood from Clem, Adam had thrown a senseless Joe over his horse and then headed out of town. No body seemed to think much of it. And Roy had had no cause to come after the boys. But now it seemed like someone might have taken advantage of the situation and Roy needed to come up with some answers. And quickly

Paul Martin looked over the scene before him as he descended the stairs. The anxious faces turned towards him. He had no answers to their unspoken questions. So he decided to take the bull by the horns, so to speak.

“Hoss, what were your brothers up to today that would have gotten them in such a mess?”

The big man screwed his face around, looking for the answer to the same question he had been asking himself. Numbly, Hoss turned to look into the fire. Heaving a huge sigh, he spread his hands before he admitted, “I got no idea.”

“Well, tell me what was going on today. Start from this morning, boy.” Roy encouraged gently. He sat down on the sofa, cup in hand.

“This morning weren’t no different than any other morning, Roy. Least ways not that I saw.” Hoss started tentatively, turning around to face his family friends. Of the four Cartwrights, Hoss had the most difficulty at times making himself understood. It wasn’t that he was dumb or slow. The one word he would have used to describe himself was “cautious.” He often understood more of what the world did than his two brothers. Understood the cruelty behind words and actions more clearly since all too often he had been the brunt and target of them. And also understood that in order to rise above that cruelty, he himself had to be more gentle and temperate. Because of his size and strength, to unleash reciprocating anger would have caused greater harm than he could stand. So many times he had laughed off the stings when a lesser man would have swatted at the offending bee. But he wasn’t trying as hard as he could at present to maintain that attitude. He would have gladly cast aside caution for just a few minutes with whoever was responsible for the damage he had seen done to his family that day.

“Had to have been, Hoss. Come on, talk with us. Tell us about this morning.” Paul said, pouring himself a cup of coffee before sitting down at the end of the dining room table, chair towards the living room.

“Like I said, nothing special, nor nothin’. Pa told Adam and Joe he wanted ‘em to go into town to pick up the payroll what with tomorrow bein’ end of the month and payday. Said carrying that much money, they both better go.”

Roy interrupted, against his better judgment, but he had to have more facts. “How much were they carrying?”

Again Hoss scrunched his face up, trying to remember exactly but he had been more intent on eating his breakfast. “Not all that much as I recall. About eighteen hundred or so. But I know that’s enough in lots of men’s minds. Roy, I figure to take out both of them, there had to have been three maybe four men.”

“Most of the damage I saw on them two was caused by a fight, yes, Hoss. But I don’t think more than what they could’ve done to one another at the Bucket of Blood.” Roy explained and saw the startled expression on the doctor’s face as well as Hoss’. Apparently, Doc Martin hadn’t heard about it either. “Yeah, now don’t go getting like that, boy. Those two brothers of yours had real good blow out and did some significant damage to the saloon, but they left town under their own steam, or at least it was on Adam’s part. Joe was across his saddle but Adam had put him there. Something ticked them off real good by my figuring. And someone decided to take advantage…”

The doctor cleared his throat. “Roy, I’ll agree with you about some of what you say might have happened but I know two things about the condition of those two upstairs that you don’t and maybe you should. First off, it must have been a pretty good fight between them two; there’s enough bruising and barked knuckles to go around. But there is no way that Adam Cartwright would have busted his brother across the back of his head hard enough to cause the concussion that Joe has. The lump on the back of that boy’s head is the size of a goose egg! And secondly,” and Doc Martin paused, “I believe that Adam was either drugged or has been poisoned.”

“When?” Hoss asked.

“How?” Roy queried.

“With what?” came the question from Ben as he came down the steps. He had heard enough of the conversation to become angry and his body language showed it

“Gentlemen, I believe if I knew the answers to those questions, you would have the answer to who took the money. And unfortunately, the only answers I have lead to more questions. When? About an hour before he collapsed, but when was that? With what? The symptoms say something like arsenic but a low enough dosage to just severely incapacitate him, not kill him. And how? He had to have swallowed it. But what did he think he was swallowing?” And the doctor stood. “Now if you will excuse me, I have two patients to look after.” And headed back upstairs.

Roy rubbed the back of his neck, deep in thought. Doc was right. The more questions were answered the more questions arose. And there were only two places to get to the bottom of all this: one place was Virginia City, the other was one of the two men upstairs. It was a long dark ride back to town that night and he would probably not find anyone to talk to anyway. But if he stayed there, one of the boys might wake up enough to talk to him.

“Ben, mind if I stay the night?”

*****

Inch by slow inch, the sun crept over the mountains that next morning. The ranch house itself had been ablaze with light all night long so it was with a start that Hoss Cartwright looked up from where he had fallen asleep with his head on the table to see the sun. He scrubbed at his face with one meaty hand before heaving himself to his feet. With a twinge, he remembered that just yesterday morning about that time, there had been others at the table with him.

He looked longingly at the stairs, wishing they were together this morning too. But Doc Martin had been adamant. There was nothing that Hoss could do for either brother. During the night he had seen Hop Sing run up and down the stairs more than a few times, always carrying things: a pitcher of water, a basin, dirty linen, herbs from his garden steeped as teas. This morning Hoss figured he would go ahead and make the coffee and maybe try his hand at breakfast. Hop Sing would be exhausted. So with another lingering look up the stairs, he headed into the kitchen.

The smell of coffee brewing aroused Ben from his uneasy slumber next to his oldest son’s bed. In the wee hours of the morning, Doc Martin had come into Joe’s room, Hop Sing trailing and told Ben to go to Adam. With the fear in his heart that showed on his face, Ben had lurched to his feet and met Paul Martin’s restraining hand on his arm.

“No, Ben, he’s holding his own right now so that’s good news, I guess. But the drug or poison or whatever it was has simply got to run through his system. Hop Sing and I have dosed him with everything we can think of. He hasn’t gotten any better but then he hasn’t gotten any worse either. I’m sorry. Go to him Ben. Maybe what he needs right now, you can give him.” And so he had fallen asleep, his hand resting across Adam’s hand as it lay atop the quilt.

Now as he struggled from sleep’s grasp, Ben looked anxiously at his eldest son, hoping for a sign, any sign. He gently called his name, barely above a whisper, urging him awake. Adam’s handsome face was relaxed now, the jaw no longer clenched in pain. His long lashes lay like tiny dark feathers on the cool marble of his cheeks. Ben put a hand to those cheeks but felt no fever. He didn’t know if that was a good sign or not but he hoped so. He let his hand linger there, feeling the stubble of course beard. Studying his son, a strange erratic thought ran through Ben’s mind: how seldom he saw Adam asleep. Totally unlike your little brother. Maybe, just maybe, if more of the ladies saw you like this, relaxed and at ease, they wouldn’t chase Joseph quite so hard. And with the thought of his other son came other disturbing thoughts.

What were the two of you fighting about in the saloon? So completely out of character for you, Adam. I thought the two of you were getting along better now days but I guess you were doing like you always do around me, weren’t you? Cover it up; pretend that there is nothing wrong between you two. But it must have been serious enough for you to go at one another like that. For you to lose your temper like that, Joe must have done or said something,..

Beneath his hand, Ben felt Adam’s jaw move slightly and he heard a small sigh escape. Heartened, Ben once again called to his son.

“Adam, come on Son, wake up. Gonna have the coffee ready in a bit. Wake up Son.” But for as much as Ben willed it otherwise, Adam seemed to sink further away from him.

“You’d be better off trying that with Joe, you know.” And Paul Martin stepped into the room, rolling his sleeves up. “Been trying to wake that young man most of the night. Most I ever got out of him was a moan. Why don’t you go see what you can do about him, Ben? I need to take a quick look at this one.”

“Paul, I think you’d better tell me what is going on here. This isn’t right, I know it isn’t. What is wrong with these two?”

Paul Martin gave one last roll to his sleeve and looked to his friend. He had been the doctor for the Cartwright family since before the youngest one was born. In fact, Joe was one of the first babies he had helped to bring into the world. As such, he felt a kinship that surpassed the usual doctor–patient relationship with all the members of the family. It was a kinship based on a deep understanding of what kept this family going despite the many crisis it had dealt with over the years: Love. He knew that that was one well that never went dry in this family. And now he knew his old friend Ben Cartwright would have to dip deep into that well again.

“Like I said last night Ben, Adam has been poisoned or drugged. The violent vomiting, the convulsions.” And he saw Ben’s eyes widen at the last word. “Yes, convulsions, minor ones but still, all symptoms of poisoning. He was conscious and alert from what Roy said when he left town so it had nothing to do with him and Joe slugging it out. I think that for the most part, the substance, whatever it was, has been diluted enough in his system that the damage may not be long term. Right now I think Adam is just exhausted and dehydrated. Both are problems we can take care.” And as he spoke he watched how Ben absorbed the information. Good, no panic, just like I knew you would take it, Ben but this next isn’t going to go so well.

“But Joe is another matter all together. By my figuring, he’s been unconscious too long. Either from the fight they had or whoever hit him afterward, it doesn’t matter. Injury to the head twice in such a short time span is dangerous. The brain bleeds and swells. And as it does so, certain areas of the brain are damaged. That’s a problem I can’t take care of, Ben. And the longer he stays unconscious, the more certain I am….” But he couldn’t bring himself to finish. He didn’t have to.

“What are we looking at?” Ben asked, his stomach suddenly turning in on itself.

“Best possible situation: Joe wakes up with an awful headache, knows who he is and where he is. All the other results go downhill from there. Coma that he just never rouses from may be the most merciful, Ben. Or he could wake up and never be able to communicate again. Or a part of his brain that controls his motor skills like walking could be impaired radically. Like I said, those are all problems I can’t take care of. Only time can.”

And he wasn’t surprised to hear Ben Cartwright’s “or God can” as the big man left the room.

******

Hoss had just poured coffee into the server when his father came around the corner into the kitchen.

“No change?” Hoss asked and the only response was his father’s single shake of his head.

“Well, I’m goin’ with Roy into town after we have some breakfast to see if we can sort some things out. And no matter what, we need to pay the hands this afternoon, Pa. That means I got to convince Mr. Barker to open up the bank today.” It was what Hoss thought Adam would say and do in the given circumstance: think logical and responsible.

Sipping the coffee Hoss had handed to him, Ben’s thoughts were not on what his son was saying. “Sure Son, whatever you think is best.” He muttered.

Roy Coffee stepped through the kitchen door just in time to hear Hoss’ statement about going into town and Ben’s distracted reply.

“I don’t recall asking for your help, boy.” Roy narrowed his eyes as he spoke to Hoss. Of all the people in the state of Nevada other than their father, only Roy Coffee got away with still calling the youngest Cartwright “Little Joe” and only Roy Coffee could call the older brothers “boys”. They felt a lot like family to him and as such, he considered them his sons and would treat them appropriately. And this was one of those times he would use his own parental-like authority, rather than his legal one. “Hoss, you need to stay here and help your Pa with your brothers. I can do my own investigating as to what happened.”

“Well, Roy, that you can but like I told Pa, we got hands that are expectin’ to be paid today, no matter what. So you can’t stop me from goin’ into town.”

Pulling away from his distracting thoughts, Ben put a hand on Hoss’ arm to pull his attention back to himself. Hoss’ voice was taking on a thread that Ben didn’t want to hear.

“Hoss, yes, we need to get the men paid so you need to get into town with another bank draft. I’ll write one out for you. But you also need to be back here by noon so we can pay the men on time. That means you have to let Roy handle the investigation. Do you hear me?”

And the big man just looked to his feet, abashed that he had almost lost his temper with the lawman. “Yes sir,” he mumbled to his father. “I’ll go saddle my horse, so I’ll be ready to ride out with you Roy.”

“What about letting me fix us up some breakfast? I’m sure Hop Sing is still asleep but I’ve been known to make some fair meals.” Ben offered.

Both of the others groaned. “I’ll just get something in town Pa, iffen it’s all right with you.” Hoss didn’t want to tell his father that there were two things about his father’s cooking that proved how bad it was. The first was that there was only one worse cook in the family: Joe. And the second was that the day his father had hired Hop Sing was the one of happiest day of Hoss’ life. So now he was relieved when Roy made mention that they better hurry on into town.

“But I’m gonna keep an eye on you, Hoss Cartwright.”

*******

The ride into town was uneventful. Roy was going over some things in his head and would occasionally ask Hoss a question. No, his brother’s were getting along about the way they always did. No, as far as Hoss knew, there was no one bearing a grudge. No, there had been no trouble on the Ranch with any of the hands. There was just nothing suspicious going on.

“What about Joe, Hoss? I know he’s been behaving himself ‘cause he ain’t graced my jail cell in a long while. Can’t say I’ve even seen him in town for a while.”

“We all been busy out here Roy. What with hay season and Joe’s been particularly busy working on some green broke horses for sale come this fall. Guess Pa finally found somethin’ to keep Joe out of trouble for more than a day at a time.” And Hoss chuckled but then remembered the last sight he had had of his brother: sprawled in his father’s arms as they took him from the back of the buckboard and into the house.

“Let’s take a good look around where you found them at, Hoss. I want to see the lay of the land for myself.” Roy suggested and Hoss complied.

Just as Hoss had told him the night before, there were no tracks around that spot to be seen for the simple fact that the lush high grass wouldn’t allow it. Roy checked down closer to the stream on the side and found only one set of prints in the damp soil. He double-checked with Hoss.

“Yeah, that’s Adam’s prints all right. See how that right foot sinks in further than the left? When Adam goes to reach down, he plants that foot real solid. Don’t know why he does it like that but he has all his life. Now if that was Joe, you’d see just the balls of his feet make an imprint cause when he goes down for somethin’ he sets on his haunches, bringin his heels up.”

Roy wondered why in the world Hoss ever studied such things but said nothing. Hoss was known to be the best tracker around that corner of Nevada but Roy had always just considered that to be for tracking horses and animals. He had never considered that Hoss might have cause one day to track a man on foot, much less his own brothers. But he filed those small bits of information away, figuring they might be useful some day.

The two men looked around the sight where Ben and Hoss had found Adam and Joe, studying the ground carefully. Even the marks left by the men and the wagon were gone.

The only sign was where one of the horses had cropped a little grass close to where Hoss said Joe had been found lying.

Finally they mounted back up and rode out to the road where Roy pulled his horse to a stop and looked back. A casual passerby would have had to have known that the two Cartwright horses there, he though, the shadows and the tall grass being what they were.

“Wait a minute Hoss.” The sheriff paused and rubbed his chin. “Which horse came in to the yard?”

Hoss had no idea where Roy was going with his question but answered him anyway. “Sport, Adam’s big chestnut. When we came down here we could see Cochise out there plain as day. Why? Is that somethin’ important?”

Still rubbing his chin in thought, Roy nudged his horse on towards town. “Might be, Hoss, might be.”

Once the two rode into town, Roy and Hoss went about their separate ways, Hoss to the home of bank president and Roy to his office for any messages.

At the Barker residence, Mr. Barker wasn’t too pleased to see the big Cartwright son, even though he was apologetic in his request to open the bank. It was Saturday and the bank was closed.

“What? They were robbed? All right. All right. Go on down and I’ll be there in a few minutes to meet you.” He grumbled. If it had been anyone other than a Cartwright, he would have made a flat ‘no’ answer but the family had enough money and dealings in his bank that if they pulled it from his bank, it would have to close down immediately. As much as he disliked the idea, he had to do as he was asked and open up.

He found Hoss Cartwright waiting at the doorstep to the bank as directed. As they went inside, he kept the blinds pulled so no one else would get the idea that the bank was doing business on a Saturday.

“Okay, that was one thousand eight hundred right?”

“That was what my brother got yesterday, wasn’t it?” Hoss asked, his face squinching up just a bit. Pa said to let Roy do the investigating but just asking questions wasn’t the same thing. Or was it? he thought not.

“Sure was. Same as this bank draft, young man. I’ll have to give you a mixed pile of bills. I don’t have the twenty-dollar bills like I did yesterday for your brother. Did you bring in a saddle bag or something to put the money in?”

“No, I guess I forgot it. I’ll just put it in my vest here.” And the banker counted out the money, trying to keep his face controlled. It was on his lips to chastise the man as he almost had his brother the day before. That much money should have been placed in a saddlebag.

With the transaction out of the way, the two men stepped to the street, Hoss tipping his hat to the banker and thanking him again. The banker harrumphed and went back down the street hoping to get home before someone else wanted something from him.

Okay, let’s see what I know already. Adam was here at the bank yesterday and got the payroll in twenty-dollar bills. That makes a small size roll, considering what I got here in my hand. They must have gone to the Bucket of Blood after that. But Adam wouldn’t have left the money in his saddlebag while they had a beer, would he? So he took it in with him? Maybe somebody there took advantage of the fight to take the money. Sam might have seen somethin’. Okay, Bucket of Blood.

But before he got to the saloon, he remembered that he hadn’t eaten breakfast. And he couldn’t do without breakfast. The Red-light Café was on the way and from the smells coming through the open door, breakfast was cooking. Hoss quickly stepped inside and found a table by the front window. The waitress came over with a pot of coffee and a cup that she poured full. She was a new one, Hoss decided, because when she asked what he wanted for breakfast and he told her one of everything on the menu, she laughed.

“No ma’am. That would just about cover it for me. See, I ain’t et since last night and I’m powerful hungry.”

She was just turning away when the café owner Marge O’Connor came from behind the swinging doors with a platter of eggs for another customer.

“Why, Hoss Cartwright!” she exclaimed, acknowledging him. “What has Hop Sing done, run off and left you boys so you have to come to town just to eat?” and came to stand beside him, a companionable arm across his shoulders as if in sympathy.

“No ma’am. He was just real busy last night, tending to my brothers with the doc and all.” Hoss started to explain.

“Now don’t go telling me that my cookin’ made them brother’s of yours sick! That wouldn’t do very good for business, would it?” she bellowed, seemingly wanting everyone in the café to know.

“They was in here yesterday?” Hoss asked, his stomach tightening at the thought. Doc Martin had said that Adam had been drugged or poisoned.

“Yep, sure was. At least Adam was. Had some lunch then took off. Left Karen a nice tip, Adam did. So’s she liable to remember him real good.” Marge explained, then curiosity got the better of her. “I hear tell that your two brothers really tore up the Bucket of Blood yesterday. Is that true? Heard that Adam wound up putting that littlest brother of yours through the win’der and out into the street. Real brotherly, them two.”

“Now, Marge. You know them brothers of mine don’t mean nothin’ when they go to wailin’ on one another. Probably just some petty squabble, you know. By the way, what’d Adam have, you remember? I might want to have it myself” and Hoss tried to act innocent in his questioning.

“Like I said, Hoss, Adam he didn’t eat much. Karen, come here darlin’.” Marge called to the waitress.

Karen was decidedly nervous looking as she stood before the big man and her employer. Hoss put that down to being called on the carpet and smiled up at her, taking in her features. She was a very plain looking woman. One you could pass by and never even see. Her plain brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the crown of her head but little wisps had already escaped. In the morning light coming through the café windows, it looked as though there was a halo around her face. Her eyes, darting from her boss to him were green, but not the green of his little brother’s. Hers were more the color of drying grass: green but fading into hazel. And her small hands, twisting the towel they held, were delicate things, with a small gold wedding band on the left one.

“Now Karen, darlin’. You remember the man who left you the big tip yesterday? The nice lookin’ one dressed all in black?” Marge coaxed. “This here is his brother. And I imagine if you serve him like you did his brother, he’ll tip you real nice too. But he’s askin’ what his brother had that was so good.”

“I – I- I don’t recall ma’am, what he ordered, ceptin’ that he wasn’t finished when he left with another man.” She stuttered

“This other fella, what’d he look like? You recall anything about him?” Hoss thought that perhaps this was the person responsible for poisoning Adam and if she could describe him he could take the description to Roy.

“He was an okay looking fella, as I recall. But please, mister, I’m new at this job and I got enough trouble with trying to remember what the last customer ordered, not what happened yesterday.” She pleaded, her hands still wringing the towel.

“Did he have a green jacket on?” Hoss pushed, thinking that it was probably Joe but wanting to make sure.

The waitress thought for a moment longer and then shook her head “I don’t know ‘bout that. But I do remember two things about him. He tried to snag your brother’s cup of coffee but he wasn’t fast enough and your brother spilled most of it. That’s why he left the big tip, I’m sure.”

“And the second thing you remember?” Hoss coaxed some more.

“He was wearing gloves, black leather ones. I think your brother knew him by the way he was acting but I may be wrong.”

A bell dinged in the background and Karen excused herself to retrieve an order. Marge just stood there, looking at Hoss, a question in her eyes. Karen returned a few moments later, with several platters balanced on her arms, which she sat down one by one in front of Hoss. He made himself smile up at the woman, even though he didn’t feel like it.

Finally Marge could stand the suspense no longer. “What’s with all the questions, Hoss. What’s happened?”

Hoss tucked his napkin under his massive chin and picked up his fork before looking up at her.” Adam and Joe were robbed of Ponderosa payroll yesterday. Joe was beat up pretty bad and Adam..” and Hoss let his voice trail off to nothing. Caution suddenly set in and he was afraid he had asked and said too much. Marge O’Connor could have poisoned Adam and had the other man, the one who met him here, trail Adam until the poison took effect in order to rob him. The mere fact that the poison hadn’t killed Adam may have been due to having spilled the coffee.

The expression in Marge O’Connor’s eyes was that of real concern as she gazed at Hoss. Softly, with her hand rubbing the big man’s shoulders in a very motherly fashion, she asked, “What about Adam, Hoss? He ain’t dead, is he? Please Lord, no, your brother’s a nice man. Tell me he’s okay, Hoss. Please?”

Hoss looked up at her, forgetting now his suspicions of her. “No Marge, he ain’t dead, least ways he wasn’t when I left home this morning. But Marge, Doc Martin says somebody poisoned him. Maybe that somebody was whoever it was that met my brother here.”

“I’m sorry Hoss, I was busy in the back yesterday. Wish I could have seen who it was met up with Adam but what with a new cook and a new waitress to train, well I just about wore myself to a frazzle before lunchtime was over. I’m sorry.”

Hoss reached up and patted Marge’s hand, the look on his face telling her that it was okay.

By the time he was finished eating, Hoss decided he better head for home. He paid for his meal and even left a tip for the new waitress. Once he stepped out onto the broad walkway, he looked up the street towards the Bucket of Blood Saloon. He was considering heading up there to talk to Sam but then reconsidered when he saw Roy Coffee walking across the street towards him.

“Boy, I thought I told you to leave the investigatin’ to me?” and Roy shot his finger off under Hoss’ nose.

“Now Roy, I was just having me some breakfast. Mighty good too. Must be that new cook they got at the Red-light.”

“I saw you looking to the Bucket of Blood, Hoss Cartwright. Now tell me you weren’t gonna head in that direction?” and Hoss admitted that Roy was right.

“Get on that horse of your’n and head home, ‘fore I put you in jail for obstructin’ an investigation.” And Roy flung his arm towards where Chubb was tied.

“Now Roy, listen to me a minute.” And Hoss proceeded to tell Roy what he had learned in the café about Adam having been there the day before and meeting with some other man. When he finished, he looked expectantly at Roy, wanting approval.

The sheriff shook his head slowly. “Get home, boy. Now.” and turned to stalk away.

********

He rode home slowly, letting the sounds and sights of nature surround him and comfort him. But there were some things that kept racing around in Hoss Cartwright’s mind. First off, what was Adam doing in the Red-light alone? Where had Joe been while Adam was there? Secondly, why had Mr. Barker given him that funny look while he was stuffing the money into his vest pocket? And thirdly, why did that new waitress really look so nervous? Did she know the man who met with Adam? The more he tried to figure things out, the more convoluted it all became.

“Come on Chubb. It’s getting close to noon and the men will be ready for their pay. Got to get there. Then maybe we can have a sit down with one of them brothers of mine and find out what happened.” And he nudged the big black Morgan into a mile-eating lope.

*********

“You didn’t hear them say nothin to one another? Come on now Sam, the place couldn’t have been busy enough to be noisy. You had to have heard Adam or Joe say somethin’.” Roy’s interrogation of the bartender wasn’t going as well as he had hoped it would.

Sam shook his head slowly, deep in thought as he wiped glasses down. “Only thing I heard Adam ask Joe if he was ready. Course that was after he put his wallet on the bar and told to me to take what I needed for damages and the like.”

“And how much did you figure the damages were?” Roy was suddenly thinking that perhaps the missing payroll had gone to pay this tab. Ben Cartwright would be in a fit if that were the case.

“I figured about two twenty five. Adam only had the two twenty on him so when the fight was over, he took a five out of Joe’s pocket.”

Roy pursed his lips. Adam Cartwright should have been carrying more than that for Ponderosa payroll. So his earlier relief that the missing money paid for damages flew out the window. “Did Adam bring in his saddle bags when they came in?”

“Not that I saw, Roy. But it did seem like they was having a discussion about somethin’ when they came in but then Joe ordered a beer, Adam a whiskey. I went down, served ‘em, got paid and came back up here to this end of the bar to talk with Lacy, that new girl I got workin’ for me. Next thing I know Adam is leaving his wallet with me and them two boys is getting ready to go at one another. As fights go, it weren’t a big one. I don’t think they was funnin’ with one another but it wasn’t an all out brawl neither.” And Sam snorted. “I’ve seen Joe do more damage on his own than what they did together.”

Roy chuckled a bit at that thought, knowing how true it could be, but then returned his questioning back to Sam. ”Anybody here in the bar take a real interest in the fight? You know, pay close attention like?”

Once again Sam shook his head slowly, recounting in his head the day before’s activities. “Nobody that I saw but then I was busy counting out the money for the damages as they was happening.”

Okay, Adam wasn’t carrying his saddlebags into the saloon. If the payroll had been in them, Adam wouldn’t have let them out of his sight. Even if they were tied to his saddle. So that meant that the money had to have either been in his wallet or that Joe had it. And Sam just said that Adam only had two hundred or so dollars in his wallet.

“One more question Sam. You saw Adam open up Joe’s wallet. How much do you figure was in it?”

Sam put both hands on the bar and laughed. “Roy Coffee, you know as good as me that Joe Cartwright don’t have more than maybe two bucks to his name the day after payday. And considerin’ that today is payday for the Ponderosa, I was surprised he had the five yesterday. Now answer me a question, Roy. What’s with all the questions?”

Sam’s expression lost all it’s humor as Roy Coffee told him.

He was no closer to solving the crime than he was when he left the Ponderosa that morning. Roy mulled the facts over in his head repeatedly and kept coming back to one gap: which one of the Cartwright boys had the money in their possession when they left town? For Roy was sure that the robbery had occurred out next to the stream. If he could figure out which one of them had it, he could backtrack that one’s movement around town and find out who had been watching them. Maybe.

Following up on Hoss’ conversation of that morning, Roy went to talk to Marge over at the Red-light. He gleaned no new knowledge or insight. He began to consider the possibility of the other man who could have been fighting with Adam there. That business with the coffee was awfully suspicious. Just wish the new waitress could have given him more information about the man other than the fact he was wearing black gloves.

Finally Roy went to see Case Barker, president of the Virginia City Bank. Needless to say, Barker wasn’t happy to see the lawman disturb his Saturday any more than he was to see Hoss Cartwright earlier.

“I suppose this is about the Cartwrights’ payroll robbery.” He snorted, allowing the sheriff to see his displeasure at having company that morning. Barker did gesture to the chair opposite him at the dining table when the maid showed Roy in. “Would you care for some coffee, Sheriff?”

“Sure would and yes it is about the robbery.” And Roy accepted a cup. The coffee was bitter and thin tasting. Not like what he had gotten out at the Ponderosa but he thought he needed to be polite and not tell the banker that he needed a better cook.

“I understand the Cartwright boys came into the bank yesterday for the monthly payroll. That right? Who took care of the transaction? You?”

“Right on one count, wrong on the other. Yes I took care of the transaction myself. For customers of the Cartwrights’ stature, I handle their accounts myself. Can’t have their financial dealings being made public knowledge and none of my clerks could keep their mouths closed if they tried. But you are wrong on the other: only one Cartwright came into the bank yesterday. And that was Joseph.”

Roy inwardly jerked. He had been right, Joe had been carrying the money. Everyone, himself included, had assumed that Adam would have been carrying it since he was the older, more responsible brother.

“Why Ben Cartwright doesn’t keep a firmer hand on that young man I will never know. Seems he did a solid job on those other two sons of his but he really let things slide on that last one.” And Case Barker’s voice showed a certain amount of disdain for the youngest Cartwright.

“Well, I for one think that Joe is an all right fella. Got a good heart and good head on his shoulders. Lots of folks here in town think of him as a friend, myself included.” And Roy stood to leave, picking up his hat from where he had set it beside his cup.

“Good head on his shoulders my eye. If he had one, he would have remembered his saddle bags to put that money in.” Barker said, his voice dripping with scorn.

Even though Roy knew he had just picked up valuable information, he couldn’t bring himself to thank the banker. “Just remember, Mr. Barker. That Cartwright ranch is getting bigger every day and one of these days, Ben is gonna turn it over to his boys to run on their own. And that means you’re gonna have to deal with Joseph Cartwright the same way you deal with his daddy now. So if I were you, I think I’d start thinking of that young man differently. Don’t get up, I’ll see myself out.”

As Roy Coffee stood on the steps of Case Barker’s palatial home, he looked out over the town. Somewhere out there is a man with money that don’t belong to him. Ain’t that much money but it’s what he did to get it that bothers me. But how can I find him if I don’t know nothin’ about him. Wonder if one of those boys is awake right now and can tell me anything. And with that thought in mind, Roy Coffee headed back to his office and his horse, prepared to ride back to the Ponderosa again.

**********

“Thanks Hoss and I do hope them brothers of yours pull through. They both seem like nice fellas.” The hand said, sticking his pay in his pocket and turning from the table. Hoss just nodded his head. He had heard it from virtually every man that morning as he had paid them their wages. He knew his brothers were well liked among the crews. But he had wished that just one of them had said something else. Something like they had gotten what they were asking for. That was silly, Hoss thought but it would have given him a lead to follow. There I go, investigatin’ again. Pa would take me to task over that but I can’t just do nothin’. Hoss pondered.

He was putting the payroll book away when he looked up to see Roy Coffee trot into the yard. The expression on Roy’s face was as it always was: one of non-committal, showing nothing of his thoughts. With his face pulled to one side, Hoss stepped off the porch to take the sheriff’s horse.

“You find out anything, yet?” Hoss asked.

“Need to talk with Adam or Joe. Either one of them awake yet?” Roy looked to the corral and noted that the horse that normally pulled Doc Martin’s buggy was still there. So the doctor was too in all likelihood.

“Adam come to for a little bit. Doc Martin gave him somethin’ and he went right back out. Joe, he’s been stirrin’ more but ain’t come to fully yet. You find out anything?” and once again Roy evaded his question by just patting the big man’s arm and heading into the house.

Ben was just coming down the stairs as Roy let himself in, and Ben greeted the sheriff. Roy studied his old friend carefully, knowing that he couldn’t get away with not answering him the same way he had Hoss just moments ago. It was obvious that Ben had slept very little, dark circles as evidence beneath his eyes, his hair, usually immaculately groomed was ruffled, a few errant strands dropping down onto his forehead. Just the same way Joe’s did.

“How are the boys this afternoon, Ben? Any change?” Roy quickly asked, hoping to be able to direct the discussion the way he wanted it to go.

“Paul seems to think they are out of imminent danger now. Adam roused for a bit and we were able to get a few swallows of broth in him before he dropped back out. Seems to be just exhausted at this point. I’ve just been trying to get him back awake to give him some more…” and Ben turned to look back up the stairs, as if almost forgetting that Roy was there.

“And Joe? How’s he doin? Hoss said he had been stirring some.” And Roy watched as the Cartwright patriarch ran his hand back through his hair and shook his head slowly.

“It looked like he was coming around just a bit ago but he never made it back completely. So how goes the investigation? Any good news?”

“Well, Ben I was really in hopes of being able to talk with one of your boys. I figured out some things but I need them to straighten out some details.”

“Totally out of the question, Sheriff.” Paul Martin asserted as he came into the main room from the dining room. “Even if we could get one of them roused enough, I would want the time to treat them. Not for you to grill them.”

“Then I’ll ask you some questions, Doc. You said you thought Adam had been poisoned or drugged. Which one is it? Was he poisoned or was he drugged?”

Paul Martin carried his cup of coffee over towards the now cold fireplace, deep in thought. Roy had followed him and set on the settee, Ben in the leather chair he normally sat in.

“I would say poisoned more than drugged even though they may be one and the same, Roy. Too much of a drug, a medication, can be considered a poison, you know. But seeing Adam’s reaction to it, I would say it was more like a mild poisoning, yes.”

“Mild?” the word exploded from Ben and he repeated it before the doctor held up his hand.

“Yes, Ben, mild. If it had been a full and deliberate case of poisoning, Adam probably wouldn’t have survived the night. Now as to what was used, Roy I have some suspicions. First and foremost: arsenic. It is commonly available. You can mix it easy enough with something for the victim to drink. Other poisons come to mind but I think the one used was arsenic.”

Roy just nodded his head as the doctor spoke. Pieces were beginning to fall into place, he thought.

“What is it, Roy? You just got a look in your eye that says to me that you know something. Now what is it?” Ben demanded.

“Well, Ben there was a man that approached Adam yesterday as he was having lunch at the Red-light. Waitress there says that they jostled a cup of coffee between them, spilled some of it. I think that man put the poison into Adam’s coffee then. After all, the only other thing he would have had would have been the drinks he and Joe had at the Bucket of Blood. And Joe hasn’t shown any sign of bein’ poisoned has he?”

Doc Martin shook his head.

Ben came out of his chair as though he had been shot. “Then why haven’t you gone after the man in the café?”

“The only thing the waitress remembers was that he was wearing black gloves. Can’t remember what he looked like. Now Ben, do you want me arresting every man in Nevada wearing black gloves? If so, I’m gonna need a bigger jail and more deputies.”

Hoss had come in and caught the last of the conversation. “Shoot, Roy, you’d have to start right here in this house. Joe wears black gloves.”

The look of defeat crossed the faces of Roy Coffee and Hoss Cartwright as the realization came to them both. The strange man in the café who had tangled with Adam over a cup of coffee hadn’t poisoned him. The waitress being new to town just didn’t know him was all and Marge had been busy in the kitchen and hadn’t seen him. The strange man was Joseph Cartwright and the spilling of the coffee had probably saved Adam’s life, not been the instant of poisoning.

“Back to square one.” Roy sighed and rubbed his jaw. “All right, let’s look at what we know for sure. Ben, help me out. You too, Doc. And Hoss if you are so all fired up to investigate, you might as well do it when and where I can see you. Now, what do we know for sure happened yesterday?”

Ten minutes later, Ben excused himself to return to his sons and Doc Martin followed as well, leaving Roy and Hoss to ponder the evidence before them.

“They left here together yesterday morning, headed for the bank together. But when they got to town, they split up and Joe went to the bank to get the payroll and Adam went to the Red-light Café. Joe didn’t have his saddlebags with him at the bank and he put the money, where? When Joe was finished at the bank he went to the Red-light. Did he give Adam the money there? That would seem the most logical thing. They had some sort of a tussle over Adam’s coffee then went down to the Bucket of Blood where that tussle became a full blown fight. Where was the money then? The bartender says that Adam’s wallet had about two hundred dollars in it and Joe’s a five-dollar bill. If Adam had stopped and put the money in his saddlebag, why didn’t he take it in with him to the saloon? Sam says he didn’t see Adam’s saddlebag with him. Adam wouldn’t have left that kind of money out of his sight. He is just too cautious. Anyway, after the fight is over, Adam just loads Joe onto his horse and rides out of town. Next thing anyone knows, Sport comes tearing into the yard, no rider and no money in the saddlebags. Hoss, did anyone check Joe’s bags? Maybe the money was there?”

But Hoss scrunched his face up and shook his head. “Joe didn’t have his saddlebags with him. Always said it was Adam’s job when they went for payroll for him to carry the money. Joe’s job was to guard Adam’s back. Wait a minute, though.” And Hoss went to the rack beside the front door and grabbed Joe’s green jacket. Quickly, he went through the pockets but with the exception of a pair of black leather gloves and Joe’s thin wallet, they were empty.

“No, they were robbed, Hoss. I’m sure of it. After all, Doc said that Joe had been hit across the back of the head. That wouldn’t have happened during the fight he and Adam had, I don’t think.” Roy mused.

“Well, who knew they were carrying money then?” Hoss challenged.

“Half the town, I imagine. Everybody knows the end of the month is payday for the hands. Trust me, Hoss, even the merchants take stuff off sale when the Ponderosa men get paid so they can get full price for their wares. Sam at the Bucket of Blood even cleans extra glasses and brings in more whiskey for the end of the month. It ain’t no secret. And seeing Adam and Joe ride into town yesterday meant only one thing: they were picking up payroll cash. So whoever robbed them probably had it planned and was just waiting. Your brothers just made it easier on the thieves when they had the fight.” And Roy’s explanation made sense to Hoss, just not enough sense.

“At least we have one blessing in all of this, boy” and when Hoss raised his misery filled eyes, Roy continued,” they were just robbed and not killed. I know that sounds terrible considering the shape they’re in but I do believe that once Little Joe comes around, we can stop chasing our own tails and chase the ones who did this.”

“Why Joe?”

“When he and Adam left town, word has it that Joe was out cold from the fight with Adam. But Doc says he was hit again, which means he probably woke up and saw whoever it was taking the money and got busted across the head by them. Why hit a man otherwise?”

Over their heads, Roy heard a sudden thunking sound followed quickly by Ben’s frantic voice calling for the doctor. Without another thought, Roy and Hoss headed for the stairs.

The door to Joe’s room was still partially open so they could hear plainly even though all they could see was Ben’s back as he stood at the foot of the bed.

“How many fingers do you see?” Doc Martin was asking firmly, but the men outside in the hall couldn’t hear the answer. Hoss pushed the door on open and moved to stand beside his father.

Although the bright green eyes were open, Hoss saw that they were unfocused and not tracking what was happening. After a long moment, Joe blinked and rolled his eyes, trying to bring things into focus then let them slowly close. But Doc Martin would have none of it and he slapped Joe’s bruised jaw. The eyes popped open again, this time a little more focused.

Roy Coffee pushed his way into the room passed the two family members and to the side of the bed across from the doctor. It got him an angry scowl from both the doctor and Ben, but he didn’t care.

“Joe, listen to me, boy. Who did this? Who hit you? Do you remember?” Roy pushed for an answer, fearing this might be the only chance he ever got to question the young man.

“Adam….” Came Joe’s hoarse whisper and his eyes began to close again.

“No I mean after the fight you had with Adam, Joe. Someone else, remember?” Roy insisted again.

“Adam..” Joe repeated again and Roy shook his head then started to reach out and grab the boy so he wouldn’t fall back unconscious without telling him what he wanted to know. His hand was stayed by Paul Martin’s strong grasp over his wrist.

“You will not continue this, Roy Coffee. I suggest you leave this room at once.” The doctor ordered, his voice cold. The sheriff started to protest but the doctor cut him short again. “No. Out. Now.”

Roy had no choice but to leave the room but he did stay in the hallway, listening,

Ben moved to where Roy had stood and gently sat on the side of the bed, taking Joe hand in his, absently stroking the back of it. For several long moments, his son’s hand lay lax in his then slowly, ever so slowly, Joe’s fingers curled and tightened into a grip.

***********

With no more concrete answers than he had had before he made the ride out to the Ponderosa, Roy Coffee returned to his office in Virginia City. There were other things that had to have his attention but the whole mystery involving the two Cartwright brothers continued to haunt him well into the evening hours. Finally, he decided to put it all aside and go have dinner down at the Red-light, even though it wasn’t his usual dining establishment. Hoss had made mention of a new cook and waitress down there so maybe the menu had changed since he had been there last. He would stop in during his rounds.

As he sat at the front window of the Red-light Café, he took stock of what was going on out on the street as was his habit. Just down and across the street he could see Mrs. Jenkins hurrying home, in front of the bank. Further up the street, the Bucket of Blood seemed to be doing a brisk business, since he could hear the tinny piano music from where he sat.

Involuntarily, the lawman’s mind drifted back to the puzzle, thinking again that there was something he was missing in all of it. As he waited for Marge to bring him his order, he sipped his coffee and traced out in his mind the trail the Cartwrights had taken. Joe had been to the bank then across the street to meet with Adam just about where Roy sat, then back across the street to the Bucket. Roy had seen them from his office just down the street going into the saloon. Then, after the fight, Adam had carried Joe down to where their horses had been tied up, in front of the barbershop. It was like a big “W” with his office and the café being the feet to it. Anyone watching them would have seen their actions well enough, but only if they had been on the same side of the street as the café and his office. And only the mercantile was between his office and the Red-light Café.

He was just about to dig into a piece of pie when a big shadow fell across his table. Without even looking up or pausing in his eating he gestured to the other side of his table and said, “Have a seat Hoss. Wondered when you were gonna show up.”

“I did have some chores to finish up, Roy. And I might as well remind you right here and now that you said as long as you could see me…”

“Don’t go any further, Hoss” Roy interrupted. “I think we both need a different point of view to sort this whole mess out. But before we do – how’s Adam and Little Joe? They doin’ any better?” And Hoss heard true concern in the lawman’s voice.

“Joe come to again. This time he could make out that Doc had two fingers up, asked for Adam, had a sip or two of water then went back down. Doc Martin seems to think that’s a good sign, that he’s a bit clearer every time he wakes up. Adam has been awake a couple of times this afternoon too. Doc says to keep giving him clear broth and tea and let him go back to sleep so Hop Sing’s been doin’ that. Hop Sing is so busy watchin’ them two like a bird dog on a covey of quail that he ain’t had time to cook ner’ nothin’.”

“Hoss I don’t think you are gonna fade away if you miss a meal or two now, boy. Although eatin’ here..”

Hoss took off his big white hat and slapped it down on the vacant chair beside him. “Well, what I had this morning weren’t bad at all. They got a new cook-“

“Had a new cook, Hoss” came Marge’s complaint as she appeared at Hoss elbow, cup of coffee for him in her hand. “Had a new cook. Same as I had a new waitress. They both up and quit today. Right in the middle of the afternoon. The waitress, you remember her Hoss, Karen? As poor a waitress as I ever seen in all my born days. Said she had done this sort of work before but I doubt it. She couldn’t remember anything. Got orders all messed up, spilt a whole pot of coffee yesterday. Only thing she could remember seems to be the tip Adam gave her. Seemed odd to me since she could remember the menu well enough, just not the people. So, big fella, what you have?”

Without even studying the offered menu, Hoss ordered the pork chops with all the fixings.

“Roy, if you were a young gal, new to town, what would you recognize about my two brothers right off?” and when Roy didn’t answer straight away, Hoss continued: “Well the last things you would notice would be a dollar tip from tight fisted Adam. And that my little brother was just ‘okay looking’ and wore gloves. Gals just seem to naturally pay attention to other things with them two, like Adam’s smooth way of talking and that my little brother is a whole lot more than just ‘okay looking’.”

The sheriff conceded that was probably correct but couldn’t understand where Hoss was coming from and said so.

“Look at it this way Roy. How was Adam poisoned? If you assume it was the coffee and it obviously wasn’t Joe who did it, that leaves only two other folks who access to that coffee: the waitress and the cook. And I would bet it came from the same pot of coffee she spilled.”

As Hoss tucked into his pork chops with gusto, Roy sat back, sipping his coffee and thought about what he had said and what he knew had to have happened. It all was beginning to make sense. He motioned for Marge to come over to their table. She did, bringing the coffeepot with her.

“Marge, that new waitress, Karen you said her name was. When did she show up here?” the lawman asked, taking another offered cup of coffee. The woman sat down.

“Seems to me I’d seen her in town for a couple of days before she come and asked for a job. Seen her just walking up and down the street, going for a stroll kinda like. Why you ask?” and Marge refilled Hoss’ cup as she spoke.

“Just kind of putting things together. You said she spilled some coffee yesterday. Remember anything in particular ‘bout it?” Roy queried, his head tilting just a little to one side.

“Just that it was right after that that she come asking for a rag to clean up where Adam had spilled his. Even though I had raked her over the coals real hard about spilling the whole pot full, she seemed more upset about Adam spilling his. I told her to either get a grip on herself or go home for the rest of the day.”

“No Marge, I have a feeling that she was more upset that she couldn’t pour Adam any more of her ‘special blend’, the one that had arsenic in it. And she went home didn’t she?” Hoss explored between the last bites of potatoes and pork chops.

When Marge said that yes she had taken the rest of the day off Roy started getting to his feet, asking her “Wonder where we could find our waitress? Did she say where she might have been headed?”

“Didn’t say but there ain’t been a stage out of town since she and the cook lit out so she’s either at her room at the boarding house or rented a horse…” but by that time Marge was talking to two backs going out her door. “Hey, whose paying for these meals, you two?” she protested, shouting at them.

Once out on the street, Roy piped up. “You take the livery, I’ll go down to Miss Borden’s Boardinghouse. If she’s been there, meet me at my office. We do any more of this and I need to make this legal and make you a deputy Hoss.”

It seemed the lady had left the boardinghouse very shortly after leaving the café as well. And had gone to the livery and gotten a horse. Will Chance at the livery told Hoss that the lady and a gentleman had headed out after renting two horses, supposedly for a picnic.

“But Hoss, I didn’t see no picnic basket. And they seemed to be in a big hurry. Told them the lake was just as pretty in the moonlight as daylight.”

“Did they ask for directions to some place?” Hoss asked him.

“Just how to get to Tahoe, is all. Don’t know if that was smart of them or not, seeings how the lady didn’t know how to ride and the gentleman seemed real awkward in the saddle too. Why Hoss, what’s wrong?”

“Just got to find them Will is all. Say, how about you saddle Roy’s horse for him. He’ll be going with me to find those folks and return your horses for ya.” And out the livery door Hoss went, headed back to Roy’s office and to becoming a deputy.

“I know that area around the lake like the back of my hand, Roy. You know that. Will said that neither of them was a good rider, so they couldn’t have got that far.” But Roy was being adamant.

“It is too dark, boy. If they’re poor riders then tomorrow they are going to be moving even slower than they were this afternoon. Not only that, they don’t know that we’ve figured this out yet. They think they are off Scott free. So they ain’t gonna be pushin’ themselves to get out of the area. Now I want you to ride on home, Hoss. Your brothers and your pa need you there.”

“But Roy,” Hoss started again but Roy Coffee simply put up his hand and shook his head ‘no’.

“Go home Hoss.” He demanded. “I’ll pick you up come first light.”

************

There was a smoldering anger in Hoss Cartwright unlike he had felt before as he rode out of town that dark evening. Too many people not letting him do what he knew needed to be done. First it was the doctor not letting him to where his brothers were. That tore at him, especially when they had continued to not improve. He knew that if he were there with his brothers, they would be …they would be what? You think you got the special medicine that no one else does? That somethin’ you can do or say will make Adam and Joe just wake up and be all better? HA! The only thing you got to give them is….love….Pa’s got that to give them but I got it too. And I guess I don’t have to be there for them to know it and feel it. And with that final thought, he looked to the starlit sky above him and sent out his love.

He had already decided what to do about the other person not letting him do what needed to be done. He was headed for Lake Tahoe, ignoring Roy Coffee’s instructions to wait until morning. He knew what he was looking for: a man and a woman on horseback probably camped near the lake. Like Roy had said, they wouldn’t necessarily be trying to hide but they didn’t know the area well enough to know where fresh water would be so they would be close enough to the lake to use it’s water. Hoss knew the main roads to Tahoe as well as the less traveled ones and figured that the couple would most likely stick to the main ones. He himself however would use the lesser-known ones, as they would get him to the Lake that much faster. But just in case, he pushed Chubb a little harder.

By moonrise, Hoss had covered about a quarter of the lakefront and flushed up nothing bigger than a couple of rabbits. He kept his eyes towards the shoreline, hoping to see a campfire, or at least by that time, the glowing coals of one. They had to be close, he reasoned. He kept sniffing the air but all he smelled was the scent of pine.

Finally he pulled Chubb to a halt and dismounted.

“Break time ol’ buddy.” He spoke soothingly to the horse and letting the horse drink at the lake’s edge, loosened the cinch. “Sorry I didn’t bring any grub for you but there’s some nice grass over here. You graze a while and I’m gonna take a little nap. You wake me in about an hour, okay?” And he slipped the bridle and bit from the Morgan, hanging it on the saddle horn. The horse would stay there with him unless something spooked it bad. And even if he did move off, Chubb, like all the regular Cartwright mounts would come when they heard their owners whistle. Cochise had even been known to lie down to sleep next to Joe. And as Hoss recalled the first time he had seen that on the trail, he laughed again. Joe had been using the pinto’s neck as a pillow and Adam had even laughed but conceded that the horse made a better bed than the ground.

But Hoss didn’t worry about the hard ground being a poor bed. Long ago he had developed the knack for being able to sleep anyplace. And that night, under the stars and with the lull of Tahoe’s waves lapping the shore, he quickly dozed off.

There was thin daylight peeking over the far eastern mountains when Hoss awoke. He was immediately angry with himself. He had meant to only take a brief respite then continue his search. Chubb stood, head down, dozing still not ten foot from him. As he got to his feet, he chastised the horse. “You were suppose to wake me in an hour.” And watched Chubb roll his eyes and shake like a dog coming in from the rain. “Okay, you win.” And Hoss stripped the saddle off the horse and commenced to rub him down, using the dry grass at the lake edge as a makeshift brush. The black groaned in pleasure.

“Dadburnit, you are getting as spoiled as another horse I know. Next thing I know, you’ll be wanting coffee in the morning too. Gonna move your stall to the other side of the barn away from that Cochise. He’s been filling your head with nonsense.”

And Hoss stopped in mid-swipe, realizing that all his anger from the previous evening was gone. Replacing it was an almost overwhelming desire to get home to his family.

“Come on, Chubb. We gotta get home.” And Chubb whickered softly as if to agree.

Long before they came into view, Hoss heard them arguing. Her voice was shrill in the cold morning air, the man’s gruff and complaining. Hoss stopped Chubb back in the treeline to make sure of who they were before he rode on down into the camp. There was no mistaking the woman. It was the waitress from the Red-light Café all right, but she wasn’t near as nervous looking as she had been before. The man with her Hoss took to be the cook. He was a thin little man with a balding head topped with a gray bowler hat that was too large for him. It kept slipping down into his eyes as the two of them stood shouting at one another over the remains of a dead fire. Each one was blaming the other for the fire having gone out and were so intent on their argument that neither one heard Hoss approaching. They did pay attention when they heard his pistol cock.

“Morning, folks. Having a little problem are you?”

The woman’s eyes grew big as saucers and the little man went the color of a fish’s belly. But neither made a move as Hoss dismounted, his gun still leveled on them.

“What ever you want, Mister, you just go head and take it. Okay? Don’t go hurtin’ us none. Okay” the little man pleaded.

“What I want is for you two to ride back to Virginia City with me. There’s a little problem concerning a robbery, a poisoning and a beatin’ you need to explain to Sheriff Coffee.” Hoss gestured with his gun towards the saddled horses.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, friend. My husband and I are just out for a ride is all.” The woman tried selling her idea with a smile but Hoss wasn’t buying.

“Folks don’t just go for a ride at this time of the morning this far from no where. Now get on them horses. You’re goin’ back to town. There’s a jail cell waitin’ for both of you.”

“I swear, Mister. She made me do it with her. She planned the whole thing. I swear.” The little man was sweating now despite the cool of the morning air.

“If you will shut up George. They ain’t got nothin’ on us. We ain’t guilty of nothin’.” She scolded but George continued to whine.

None of what he was saying was making sense to Hoss and he told them as much. But they continued to whine and fuss, each proclaiming innocence and blaming the other. Finally Hoss had had enough of their whining and fussing and shouted at them to hush up. With a spasmodic jerk they did as he commanded.

“Now then, George, you get that lady up on that horse and tie her hands to the saddle horn. Lady, you go moving that horse one inch and I’ll plug you. For what you did to my brother Adam, I really ought to go ahead anyway but it would make things just more complicated than they already are.” And as George did as he was instructed, Hoss kept the gun trained on the pair of them. Once the lady was secure, Hoss tied the reins to the rope and tied it off onto his own saddle. He told George to mount the other horse and he tied the little man’s hands to that saddle horn as well then the reins to her stirrup.

“I got one question for you two. Where’s the money?” and when he got no answer, he gave them a most menacing look.

“I swear Mister. We didn’t get any money off of your brother. That’s the whole problem. Karen couldn’t find it. We figured some one else got there ahead of her and took it. Honest.”

And Karen started shrieking that all sorts of dire punishment was headed George’s way if she got her hands untied.

*************

Just as daylight was finding the biggest of the Cartwright sons awakening on the shores of Lake Tahoe, the smallest one was coming to his senses fully for the first time in days. He had had snatches of consciousness but mostly his head had hurt so bad that it was easier just to fade back into the world of soft gray clouds and muted sounds. Now however, he could feel someone shaking his shoulder and calling his name. Getting his eyes open finally he put a hand out to stop the shaking.

“That ain’t helping my head any.” He moaned then heard his oldest brother chuckling softly.

“I don’t suppose it does, Joseph, but then you looked as though you were gonna sleep the day away and we just can’t have that.” Adam admonished gently.

“Sleep all day? Good idea,” and he tried to snuggle back into the soft pillows but felt Adam’s weight pull the side of the bed down so he decided he needed to at least see what Adam wanted. That was when he noted just how bad Adam looked, a stubble of dark beard and circles under his eyes, his hair a tousled mess. “God, Adam, you must look as bad as I feel.”

“That bad, huh? Listen, we have got to come up with something Pa is gonna believe about this.”

“This what?” and Joe rolled onto his back and put his arm over his eyes. The sunlight streaming into his room made his eyes hurt.

“You remember the fight at the Bucket of Blood we had yesterday?” Adam whispered, his jaw still aching with the remembered connection with Joe’s fist.

Joe groaned again, this time a little louder. “ Oh yeah. But I don’t remember getting here. Do you?” he asked Adam and, peeking under his arm, saw Adam shaking his head ‘no’. ”Oh Lordy we are in for it now, big brother.”

“Shhh, you’ll wake up Pa.” Adam cautioned but when they heard the throat clearing in the doorway, both knew it was too late.

“Adam, you shouldn’t be out of bed. And Joseph, I want no argument out of you. You’re staying right where you are as well. There will be no talk of chasing after the men who robbed you two. Hoss out there is bad enough. Adam, back to bed I said.”

But Adam stayed where he was seated, a perplexed look on his face. “Robbed us?” he couldn’t believe he had heard his father right.

“Yes, robbed you. Don’t you remember any of it? Surely you do Joseph.” Ben briefly described the events of the past two days, starting when Sport had come tearing into the yard without Adam until Roy Coffee had returned this morning looking for Hoss to accompany him and the search party for the two they felt responsible.

“Two days, Pa?” Adam asked, his ears not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Yes, Son, two days. Doc Martin says he believes someone tried to poison you and someone hit you pretty hard on the back of the head, Joseph. Don’t you remember anything at all?”

Adam thought that until his memory came back fully, he should perhaps stick to the vaguest of answers. “All I remember is leaving town, Pa.” He admitted, not wanting to mention the shape he and his brother were in when they left town. Adam gave Joe a warning glance.

“And I don’t even remember that Pa. Truly I don’t. Must be from the hit on the head. Don’t remember a thing.” Joe confessed in the same way Adam had, enough of the truth until they could figure a way to tell the rest of what they did know.

Ben’s eyes squinted just a tad, then taking his oldest son’s elbow in hand, he started to aim him back towards his own bed. Something was afoot, he knew it. “You don’t even remember the fight you both had at the Bucket of Blood?” and from the corner of his eye he saw his youngest pull the quilt over his head and felt Adam stiffen just a hair.

“A fight? Us? Now, Pa.” Adam leaned heavily on his father’s arm and allowed his father to escort him back down the hallway.

Ben was just settling his eldest in bed when he heard a shout from the yard accompanied by the sound of horses. Distinct was Roy Coffee’s voice. With a warning frown at Adam to stay put, Ben left the room, headed for the noise in the yard below.

Hoss was just pulling a gag off one very angry looking woman as Roy was pulling a small man from the back of another horse when Ben came from the house.

“I told you Hoss Cartwright to wait for me. Now looky here, boy!” Roy was shouting at Hoss, trying to be overheard above the woman’s shrieking and the other man’s protests that he was innocent. All was total chaos for the first few moments.

His hands raised in the air, Ben roared for silence with a voice well known by his sons. And the one standing before him cringed just as the two in the house did.

“What is the meaning of all this? Hoss?” Ben demanded using ‘the voice’ again

“I meant to come home last night, Pa. I really did. But I just needed to get away and figure some things out for myself is all. Roy, I really did mean to meet up with you this morning but these two just kind of fell into my lap I guess you could say.” Hoss gulped, thinking that it was at least partially true, he had come upon the two when he was headed home.

“Do you mean to say that these two,” and Ben gestured to the man and woman, an incredulous look on his face, ”These two are responsible for waylaying your brothers and robbing them? I have trouble believing that. They hardly look strong enough to saddle their horses, much less handle Adam and Joe together.”

“We didn’t rob no body!” the woman contested hotly, pulling at the hem of the jacket she wore and trying to stand as tall and proud as she could under the circumstances.

“Now then, Miss..What did you say your name was?” the sheriff began.

“That’s missus… Mrs. Sanford and that’s my husband George Sanford.” And Roy caught himself before he could tip his hat to her, trying to keep in mind just what these two had done.

“Well now, Mrs. Sanford. We do have a bit of a mystery here. I’m gonna go through your stuff here and see if there’s more money there than a cook and waitress would liable to earn in awhile. If there is, I’m gonna book you on suspicion of robbery. If there ain’t, the very least I’m gonna arrest you for the attempted murder of Adam Cartwright.” And as Roy moved over to the two livery stable horses, the little man in the bowler hat began his whine again.

“We didn’t rob anyone, Sheriff. Karen said when she caught up with Cartwright, his saddlebags were empty and so was his wallet. She told me she hunted all over and never found the payroll. So somebody else must have robbed them, not us.”

“Then why was she following Adam?” Roy asked, coming to tower over little George Sanford. “I’m sure it wasn’t to return the tip.”

“I tell you Sheriff. She had it planned all along. Said all we needed to do was slow him up enough that we could overcome him and snag the money. Said he would be sick for a while and that would be long enough for us to get away. But when she come back to town, she didn’t have the money. Said she’s looked high and low for it even on the other fella with him. Said that when that fella started coming around she just thunked him a little and he dropped back like a rock in water.”

And the more George Sanford explained the angrier Mrs. Sanford was getting. She started shrieking and Roy decided the best thing was to do as Hoss had done: gag her.

They were just completing the chore when Ben heard a shout from the kitchen area.

Does everyone around here today have to shout? He thought as Hop Sing came at a full run from the kitchen out to the yard, shouting in Chinese, holding Adam’s black jeans in his hands, dripping water everywhere. He was still going full bore, bouncing up and down on his toes in front of Ben. Ben finally put his hands on the oriental shoulders to keep him in one place and get his attention.

“What are you hollering about, Hop Sing? And say it in English, please” and Ben found himself shouting.

“I do laundry this morning. Look what I find in Mistah Adam’s pocket!” and in his extended hand was a roll of ten and twenty dollar bills, all soaking wet.

“What do you want to bet that there’s eighteen hundred dollars in that roll Ben?” Roy asked.

Upstairs in the ranch house, two men had been listening closely to the proceedings in the yard.

“I meant to put that money in my saddlebag after you gave it to me.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you didn’t, Big Brother. Saved a mess of money.”

“But if she hunted all over for it, why didn’t she find it?”

And Joe snorted softly, leaning against the wall beside the window and looking at his brother’s long frame stretched out on the bed up on one elbow. “Probably couldn’t roll you over.”

“Well at least you know how you got your headache and I got my stomach problem. Or at least part of it.” And Adam paused before continuing. “Joe, about the Bucket of Blood, how much do you remember?”

Joe let his face screw itself around in thought for just a moment. “Most of it,” he replied slowly and softly.

Adam laid back into his pillows before he spoke again. “How long do you suppose we can take to ‘recuperate’?”

Taking as deep a breath as he dared, Joe ran his hands through his hair and headed for the bedroom door. “Figure a couple of days at most is all Pa’s gonna let us get away with.”

**************

Ben settled his cup back into its saucer and himself back into his favorite chair there by the fireplace.

“I’m waiting.” He said, his tone inviting no further delay. Across from him, Joe was stretched out on the sofa where Hoss had helped him to earlier. He was still a bit on the pale and ragged side but a few more days of rest Doc had said and that would clear up as well. Adam was reclining in his favorite spot, the blue velvet chair. But Hoss had pulled it closer to the fire and the low table so that Adam could have his legs propped up and kept warm, as per doctor’s orders. He also looked the worse for wear but Ben had to agree that he was looking better than he had.

But as the silence in the room stretched out fuller, Ben’s patience became thinner.

“I asked you what started the fight?” and he looked pointedly at his eldest son.

Adam found there was a great deal to be interested in the bottom of his coffee cup. Joe on the other hand, kept his eyes on the ceiling. For once the same thought was going through both Cartwright sons’ heads at the same time: how to explain this one. Even though they had discussed it privately during their convalescence, it wasn’t going to come easily.

“Joseph?” Ben roared, truly irked now at their refusal to speak. His son’s slight form jerked but this son said nothing. “Adam?” and although that son didn’t flinch, he didn’t answer either.

Joe finally looked over at his brother and the two of them, with eyebrows raised, regarded one another. Adam gave Joe a palm’s up gesture towards their father, inviting him to speak first.

“Well, Pa, it’s like this. You remember the last thing you said before we rode out that morning?”

Placated and intrigued, Ben tried to remember back just what he had said. All sorts of things came to mind that he wished he might of said: the usual ‘Be careful’; the hoped for ‘See you when you get home’; the ever protective ‘Watch out you two’; the always present but unvoiced ‘I love you’. But none of those fit with his recollection of that morning, as he knew he had been in a foul mood. So he simply shook his head.

“You told Joe to get a haircut.” Adam piped up.

One glance at the unruly mass of curls propped on the arm of the sofa told Ben that his son hadn’t done as requested. “But from what Sam and the others said… You two were having an all-out brawl. I can’t hardly believe that it was over something so mundane as a haircut, for pete’s sake.” And they heard the incredulous tone in their father’s voice ratchet up another notch.

“Not just that, Pa.” And Joe rolled over onto his side and sat up gingerly. “Adam had been riding my..case” he had started to say ”ass” but thought the better of it, all things considered, ”… about being irresponsible, and all, for the better part of the week. Every time we were out together, whether we were mending fences or doing chores or what ever, he’d ride me about it. Tell me I needed to take more consideration of your wishes. Well, I guess it was wearing real thin on me.” and Joe paused in his recitation and turned to his father with the look that Ben had long ago privately labeled the ‘take pity on me ‘cause I’m the littlest’ look.

Even though Ben couldn’t argue that occasionally Joe was too capricious, too flighty for his own good, perhaps Adam had overstepped the bounds of brotherhood too far. Later, Ben decided. he would remind Adam just who was the father in the house. But for right then, all he wanted was an answer to the reason the fight had started and these two were drawing it out to extremes!

When Joe saw that his father was continuing to wait, he rolled his eyes to big brother Adam.

“And so, Pa,” Adam began to explain, clearing his throat,” while we were in the saloon I told Joe if he didn’t go get a haircut of his own volition, I would drag his sorry butt over there myself. That’s when he said those two words guaranteed to rattle my chain real hard.” And again silence reigned.

Grimacing, Joe repeated the words: “Make me.”

The End

Tags: Adam Cartwright, Ben Cartwright, Hoss Cartwright, Joe / Little Joe Cartwright