Summary: Joe, Candy, and two Ponderosa ranch hands run into trouble on the trail home after delivering a large string of horses.
Rating:  PG
Words  16,005

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The Brandsters have included this story by this author in our project: Preserving Their Legacy. To preserve the legacy of the author, we have decided to give their work a home in the Bonanza Brand Fanfiction Library.  The author will always be the owner of this work of fanfiction, and should they wish us to remove their story, we will.

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Special Thanks: To Kimba for putting up with me and dutifully reading each update to this story and stroking my ego. Also to Daydreamer, for being nitpicky and catching all those stars and young’uns!

A Silent Shadow

~~~“It was a dark and stormy night…”

“Aw c’mon Joe! You can think of a better way to start a story than that!”

“Hey! I have the story stick! Be quiet!” Little Joe waved said stick at his three camping companions.

“Story stick should go in the fire, it’s cold out here,” Candy muttered as he wrapped his coat tighter around himself.

“Can I tell my story?”

“Go ahead,” Candy grumbled as he tried to pull his head into his jacket.

Joe glanced at the other two men huddled around the tiny campfire, Bob Hanes and Joe Boxer, “You two have anything to put in?”

“No sir,” Boxer breathed out with chattering teeth.

“Go on,” Hanes said, hoping Little Joe would finish his story quickly and toss the story stick into the fire. 

“As I said, it was dark and stormy, and the farm house was deathly silent–“

“What’s that?”

Joe stopped reciting the story to glare at his friend, “What’s what?”

“That noise,” Candy twisted his neck to see where “the noise” had come from.

“I don’t hear anything,” Joe said flatly.

“Well it’s gone now,” Candy grumbled and tried to settle back in his coat.

“You done?”

“Yeah.”

“I can tell my story?”

“If you must.”

“Thank you,” Joe’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and he turned back to the fire, rubbing the story stick between his hands to keep them warm. “So it was dark and raining, and nothing stirred in the house. The farmer’s daughter, Mary Sue, had been woken up by a–“

“I’m serious, you don’t hear that?” Candy interrupted again, looking around.

The three other men returned his questioning look with blank stares.

“You don’t hear that weird moaning sound?” he asked incredulously, and again no recognition lit the others’ faces. “I’m not crazy, I do hear something.”

Joe cupped a hand to his ear, looking as if he were actually putting a valiant effort into trying to hear Candy’s mysterious moaning sound. After a few seconds he shrugged, “Nothing.”

Candy huffed and drew his knees up to his chest in an attempt to warm up.

Hanes snickered at Candy, “What’s the matter Candy? Joe’s story scaring you?”

“Oh shut up!” Candy contemplated breaking the story stick over Hanes’s head. “Joe just finish the stupid story!”

“Hey! It’s not stupid!” he cast both Candy and Hanes an annoyed look and rolled his shoulders a few times to get the blood flowing again. Boy it sure was cold out here. “So Mary Sue, the farmer’s daughter, had woken up to the sound of something scratching at her win–“

“That’s not funny Hanes, knock it off!” Candy kicked the man next to him, who had started moaning low right into the foreman’s ear.

Joe whirled on Candy again, “Do you mind?”

Hanes dissolved into a fit of manly giggles and elbowed Boxer, who could care less, and really just wished to be inside at the moment. Candy snatched the story stick from Joe’s hands, “Let me borrow this!”

“Hey!” Joe quickly snatched the stick back when he realized that Candy was going to break it over Hanes’s head. “No breaking the story stick!”

Candy ignored him and drew a line between his and Hanes’s bedroll, “You cross this line, and the story stick gets it… right over your head!”

“Hey! What’d the stick ever do to you?” Joe put in, protectively holding the stick to his chest.

“Oh fine, I’ll break you over his head, that way the precious stick can live,” Candy rolled his eyes and pulled one of his blankets around him. It was entirely too cold out tonight.

Joe returned the look and took a deep breath to begin again… then stopped. He turned suspiciously to Candy, “You have anything to say?”

“No.”

“No sarcastic commentary?”

“No.”

“Hear any strange spooky noises the rest of us can’t?”

“No.”

“So you have nothing to complain about, yell about, or interrupt me again with?”

“Just finish your story Joe,” Candy sighed heavily.

“Okay,” he watched Candy for a moment, just to make sure he was going to be silent, and then turned back to the fire. “So a scratching noise woke Mary Sue up. She got out of bed to go check it out. When she got to the window, nothing was there. She had almost convinced herself she imagined it, when she heard it again, she whirled around to see–“

“That’s it!” Candy growled, jumping to his feet.

Joe threw his hands in the air in disgust, “What now?”

Candy spared him a glance as he strapped on his gun belt, “I’m going to find out what’s making that stupid noise!”

“It’s probably just the wind,” Boxer tried to reassure the foreman.

“I haven’t heard the wind cry in a while,” Candy muttered, before turning off into the darkness.

Joe watched for a moment, completely flabbergasted by his friend’s behavior. The wind blew again, its icy breath brushing against his skin, “Candy get back here!”

He was already gone. Joe muttered a few choice expletives under his breath and quickly strapped on his gun belt.

“You’re not going after him, are you?” Hanes asked incredulously.

Joe paused and looked at Hanes, as if he couldn’t comprehend why he wouldn’t go chase after his crazy gun-toting friend in the middle of the dark, cold night, “I am.”

Hanes shook his head, “We’ll just stay here and hold down the fort.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Joe said sourly, before following the direction Candy left. 

* * * * *

“Candy?” Joe called out as he peered ahead into dim forest. The further he roamed from camp, the less he could see in front of him. The trees here seemed to cluster together and blocked out almost all of the light from the moon and stars. He pulled his coat tighter around him to trap in more warmth, and then called again, “Candy!”

The only answer he got was the silence of the night. His annoyance was slowly starting to turn into concern. He hadn’t left that long after his friend, meaning Candy couldn’t have gotten that far ahead of Joe. If they were camping out closer to the Ponderosa in the woods he knew, Joe probably wouldn’t have worried so much. As it was they were still a few days from home, and the youngest Cartwright had no clue what kind of animals and people roamed about these woods. It just wasn’t like Candy to go stomping off in the night, but then again, this trip had been far from normal.
“Anything seem particularly odd about that to you?” Candy asked Joe after they had finished all of the business talk, and were heading towards where they had tied their horses up.

“Oh no, nothing, except for the fact that for a man with a reputation of playing hardball, he sure gave in fast. We got full-price for every horse… Pa wasn’t sure if I’d get what each one was worth,” Joe said.

“Yeah,” Candy tossed a look back over his shoulder, “and I got the distinct impression he wanted us out of here as fast as possible.”

“Oh, I got that too, but it’s not like its any of our business,” Joe shrugged as he untied Cochise’s reins from the post.

“Well you’ve got to wonder,” Candy caught Joe’s eye, “why the biggest horse ranch in these parts goes through the trouble to buy fifty geldings from the furthest ranch in Nevada.”

“Maybe they just don’t have any decent stock ’round these parts,” Joe vaulted up onto his pinto, “and what’s got you interested so suddenly?”

“Not suddenly,” Candy said as he mounted up, “I’ve been wondering that since we left. Why does a ranch this size need so many working horses, all of the sudden, too?”

“Area’s been hit pretty hard, drought’s driven all sorts of predators out of the woods. Everyone in the area suffered some losses.”

“For fifty horses?”

“I’ll admit it’s a lot, but you never know…” Joe trailed off as he saw that his friend didn’t seem to be buying his excuses. He smiled, then shook his head, “All right, I’ve been wondering it too.”

“I thought so.”

“Still you know what they say about the cat and curiosity,” Joe wagged his finger at Candy.

Candy laughed and they both started their horses towards town, where they’d already sent Hanes and Boxer after they’d delivered the horses, “Don’t worry, I’ll leave any detective work up to you.”

“Great, stick me with the mystery,” Joe shook his head, and the two lapsed into a companionable silence. They had just reached the tree line when something caught Joe’s eye. He pulled Cochise off the path, with Candy following close behind.

“What’s up?”

“I thought I saw something.”

“Something?”

“Yeah,” Joe said distractedly as he dismounted, handing Cochise’s reins to Candy as he pushed aside some brush.

“Who’s being curious now?”

“I’m allowed to, I’m–” the words left Joe as he cleared the flora out of the way, and he was able to see what caught his eye initially. He almost choked on the smell.

“Joe?” Candy leaned forward, a bit concerned at the look on his friend’s face. He prepared to dismount.

“I think I found out why Peterson needed so much stock,” the young Cartwright said softly.

Candy dismounted and peered over Joe’s shoulder, and then wished he hadn’t. It took a few moments before he could look at the horse’s mauled carcass with a more observant eye, “No cat or wolf I’ve met could do that…”

Joe nodded his agreement and took Cochise’s reins back, “Let’s get back to town and cash this bank draft. I don’t want to stick around to meet whatever did that.”
Joe shook his head from the memories and focused on the present. They were several miles from Peterson’s spread, and most likely several miles from the mystery creature that had killed the horse. He peered out into the darkness once more, still seeing nothing but trees, “Candy! This isn’t funny!”

Still, his only answer was the surrounding darkness and a chill wind.

* * * * *

Dried leaves crunched underfoot, so that with each step Candy took a symphony of soft crackles accompanied it. He slowed his pace to a stop when the noise he’d been trying to follow became softer than the sound of his footsteps. Turning an ear up to the wind, he strained to hear it again, but it seemed to have stopped for the moment. Silence surrounded him now; the only sound was the soft whisper of the wind lightly tossing scattered leaves into the air.

The Ponderosa’s foreman looked around the unfamiliar stand of trees he was standing in. He’d been so focused on finding out what that stupid noise was, he hadn’t paid close enough attention to the path. Great, not only was he crazy, but he could add lost to that as well. He glanced back in the general direction he’d come from, trying to ascertain if he could retrace his steps back to camp. Not that he exactly felt like returning to the camp at that given second; he’d preferred to at least have some sort of excuse for running off into the night. It may not help his position in anyone else’s eyes at all, but at least he’d feel more justified in acting like an idiot.

He lifted his ear up to the wind once more, hoping that maybe the moaning would start up again. After a few seconds, he conceded to himself that he was on a wild goose chase, for what, he didn’t even know. If he tried to follow the general direction he thought was the source, he’d probably wind up getting himself even more disoriented, so heading back to camp was the best course of action.

He had taken one step forward when the wind picked up again, carrying the moan of something that didn’t quite sound like any animal he’d ever heard, but wasn’t entirely human either. He could hear it more clearly now, as if he weren’t that far from the source of the mysterious cries at all. Indecision warred within him for a few moments, as he glanced at the two directions. One way led back to camp and a warm fire, while the other led him further into the darkness. With a shrug he turned back towards the noise. He’d come this far, he might as well find out what on earth was causing the racket anyhow. 

* * * * *

“More coffee?” Boxer set the tin cup he’d poured for himself on the ground as he held out the hot pot towards his companion.

With a shrug, Hanes extended his cup to be filled, “Might as well. I guess we can’t drift off ’till Joe brings Candy back.”

“You think he actually heard something?” Boxer set the coffee pot back in the coals after he finished topping off Hanes’s cup. “I never seen him act so odd before.”

“Who knows? Heard tale he use to be an Indian scout for the army. Makes sense though, seems he’s got a habit of sneaking in and out of army camps without anyone ever noticing.”

“Light on his feet doesn’t mean he’s got good hearing,” Boxer pointed out.

“Well, were you listening to Joe jabber on about a farm house or the wind?”

“Why would I listen to the wind?”

“I don’t know, but according to the foreman it can moan,” Hanes almost snorted at the thought.

“Not just accordin’ to him,” the younger ranch hand mumbled mostly to himself.

“What?” Hanes frowned at his companion.

“Some men in the saloon were talking… you didn’t hear them?”

“I guess I was too busy chatting up with that friendly saloon gal to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations,” the older of the two admonished lightly.

“They weren’t trying to keep it secret too much,” Boxer shrugged nervously and settled into his blanket for some warmth.
Joe Boxer took another long sip from his beer, as his supposed drinking companion guffawed loudly at one of his own jokes. Boxer might have joined him in the laughter, had the man been telling him the joke and not the girl leaning against the bar. This was typical of Bob Hanes though, he was a friendly enough fellow among all the men in the bunkhouse, but the moment he got around someone of the female variety, he was the most sociable man on the earth. This was assuming you were the lady of course.

Boxer’s eyes raked over the room, trying to find something more entertaining than the casual flirting between the two people beside him. The bar was still relatively empty at this hour, so only two other tables were occupied. At one table a man had his upper body sprawled across it, an empty whiskey bottle resting in the crook of his arm. At the other table sat two older men, hunched over their mugs of beer, as if guarding them.

“Shame about Peterson’s stock, eh?” The one closest to Boxer said to the other, not bothering to keep his tone hushed.

“That beast’s been hittin’ every other ranch and farm in these parts, was bound to make it to his place.”

“Johnson thinks there’s two of ’em out there,” the first tossed back. “Says one animal ain’t big or hungry ’nuff to need to kill all that stock.”

“Course there’s more than one, them bears and wolves get hungry too,” the second shrugged.

“You know that Peterson didn’t get hit by no bear,” the first drunk squinted at his drinking companion then took a long gulp out of his drink.

Boxer settled back into the bar, taking a swig himself. He focused his eyes on another part of the room, so as not to draw their attention, but kept his ear trained on the conversation. The whole town had been acting weird ever since they rode in, as if everyone were walking on egg shells. At first he chalked it up to them not being too friendly about outsiders, but maybe this made a bit more sense.

“I know, I just find it hard to believe that crazy hermit’s been right all these years,” the second rested his chin on a fist.

“Old Man Jagger knows them woods better than anyone else,” the first reminded the other. “Been out there how long now?”

“Goin’ on six years, moved out right after that bear mauled his wife and youngin. Been cracked ever since,” the second sighed, eyeing the wall in a bored manner.

“T’wasn’t no bear according to him–“

The second interrupted his drinking companion before he had to listen to that entire spiel again, “Yeah I know, it was some hulking creature with long sharp claws and a wail like a banshee to lure unsuspectin’ men into the night–“

“Bah! You cain’t even keep your monsters straight!” the first slurred, pointing an accusatory finger. “It ain’t got no banshee call(,) ya drunk, just a low moan on the wind, almost like a wolf would howl–“

“Drunk!” the second accused. “You be turning everything into a werewolf story if we’d let you–“
Hanes just stared incredulously as Boxer finished up his story, “You think this monster those old drunks were blathering about was the reason our foreman took off into the night.”

“The thought occurred to me,” Boxer sheepishly said, gathering his blanket around him further.

Hanes eyed his coffee cup, “Is there somethin’ in here, or has everyone just become an idiot tonight?”

* * * * *

You’re an idiot, Candy thought to himself as he tried to silence his footsteps as much as possible. The moaning was loud enough to where it wouldn’t have mattered if he stepped on every dry leaf and twig in a two mile radius, much less the soft clunk of his boots hitting the ground. Still he felt the need to be cautious and all his training from his scouting days kicked in almost instinctually. If he were a smart man, he’d turn around and let whatever it was, be. However he never boasted his intelligence to anyone, and the pull of his curiosity was stronger than good old common sense. Hand hovering over his pistol, he mentally braced himself for whatever might lie around the bend of the path in front of him, then forced his feet to walk those last few steps, and reveal the unknown.

Disappointment, relief, and confusion clashed within in him as he came upon the small empty clearing. Towering pines still surrounded him with their high branches almost covering the entire clearing. Aside from the red pine needles, pine cones, and the occasional branch, he was alone. The most disconcerting part though was that the moaning persisted. He looked around again, his eyes straining to pick out something amiss among the foliage.

That’s when he noticed what he thought was a log from one of the pines’ thicker branches was slowly expanding and contracting, almost as if it were–

Breathing?

Even as a shiver ran down Candy’s spine, his feet were already moving forward. The closer he got the surer he was that, the log was breathing, and that the log wasn’t a log. In the dim light, he was able to make out that what his eye had previously seen as bark, was actually a thick coat of brown fur with thin black stripes, simulating the look of tree bark. He might’ve passed it off for a bear, but the form was too slender, and almost human-like. The creature elicited another long moan, which to Candy now sounded almost pain-filled. Two more steps and he was able to see a rust colored stain covering what he guessed to be the creature’s abdomen. Dried blood.

The alarm bells, that he’d been dutifully ignoring since he left camp, rang clear in his mind and he began to backpedal from whatever it was he was staring at. His eyes were glued to the mysterious creature as he continued to back up, another unsettling thought occurred to him as he continued to listen to the pain-filled moan. The sound from camp had been of a higher timbre and was a sad, almost a mournful song. Now that he listened, he could tell that what he’d heard before was a different voice.  His eyes remained glued to the strange creature in front of him as his hand moved for his gun. However, before he could draw it something large and heavy slammed into his back, tossing him to the forest floor.

An enraged shriek drowned out the painful moans of the first creature, and Candy felt what was suspiciously similar to claws trying to tear through his thick winter coat. He flopped around on the ground under the heavy weight as he tried to wriggle out of his jacket. What seemed like minutes to him lasted only a few seconds and he was out of the coat and escaped his attacker’s grasp.

Adrenaline pumping, he pivoted around, drawing his sidearm at the same time. He could barely make out the lanky form in the shadows formed by the branches, but squeezed off a round from his pistol anyway. The creature in shadows didn’t even flinch, instead it gave out another frustrated and shrill cry as it struggled to untangle the mangled jacket from its claws.

Candy frowned and aimed again, taking the extra time to center his sight. He couldn’t afford to miss again.

Those few seconds cost him dearly though as his attacker freed itself from his jacket and charged into him, sending the shot wild. He felt the air whoosh out of his lungs as the charge slammed his back against the trunk of one of the many trees. Sucking in quick breaths of oxygen, he almost didn’t see the long claws rise up above him, and only the quick instinctive reflexes made him toss an arm over his face as the clawed hand made its downward swipe.

* * * * *

The silence that had begun to infuriate Joe was shattered by the sound of a gunshot in the nearby vicinity. A knot of dread settled in his stomach as the cautious pace he’d set quickened into a jog. Maybe Candy was just firing off into the night, not that it made any more sense than him chasing mysterious noises. It was still a more comforting thought than his friend being ambushed alone in these woods. His theory was literally shot down as another round of fire rang through the air. Two shots definitely wasn’t an accident. The jog quickened to a full sprint, leaving Joe to dodge low-hanging tree branches and forest debris in his haste. 

He rounded around the last corner on the barely worn path to a small grove, expecting every situation to be playing out before him than the actual one. He couldn’t quite tell what had the Ponderosa’s foreman pinned against a tree, a quick glance giving him the impression of a tree, a hairy man, and a tiny emaciated bear all at once. Shaking the confusing montage out of his head, he drew his gun, firing a round into what he believed to be the shoulder of his friend’s attacker.

The creature gave a pain-filled cry, but didn’t immediately give up its assault on Candy. Joe squeezed off another round that was aimed slightly lower. With another cry of pain, the creature pulled away, quickly disappearing into the surrounding foliage. Free of the flying claws of fury, Candy allowed himself to sink into the tree, carefully cradling his arms to his chest. He glanced up at his rescuer.

“Thanks,” the word came out in a relieved breath, but was accompanied by a smile.

Joe watched the area where the creature had disappeared for a few more seconds, before turning to his friend, “What the heck was that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Candy’s eyes involuntarily roamed over to where the other creature had been, to find it empty. All that was left was a disturbed pile of dried leaves and some red splattering on the ground. That figured. Now he was crazy, lost, scratched up, and without proof. “Got a nasty temper though.”

“I’ll say,” Joe agreed as he took a closer look at his friend. Other than being winded, the only injuries he seemed to have sustained were on his forearms. The red shirt sleeves were nearly shredded, and a myriad of long gouges covered each arm. What material was left of the sleeves was already soaking up the blood and sticking to the wounds. He whistled softly at the damage. “Don’t do anything half-way, do you?”

“Gotta keep things interesting,” Candy shrugged with a pained smile.

“Well let’s get you back to camp and clean those out,” Joe clapped his friend on the shoulder and lightly pushed him away from the tree and in the direction he assumed camp was. “I’d rather not stick around, in case whatever that was decides to come back.”

“I’ve got to agree with you there,” Candy paused to pick up his ruined jacket and slipped into it as lightly as he could. There was a considerable draft in the back, but it would keep the wind from blowing against the scratches. “One round’s enough for me.”

They both walked for about a minute in relative silence, until Joe stopped and looked around. Candy eyed him, “What?”

The young Cartwright narrowed his eyes and slowly scanned the area surrounding them.

When he didn’t get any answer, Candy tried again, “Joe?”

“Yeah?” Joe flashed his friend a big-toothed smile.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah… uh,” Joe fumbled lightly before looking around again. “Which way back to camp?”

Candy would have slapped himself in the forehead if he wasn’t so concentrated on trying to not agitate his scratches. He settled for an annoyed glare, “We’re lost?”

“What? You’re the better tracker out of the two of us!”

“Yes, and we can see my track record for the night,” Candy indicated his arms before swinging his gaze around to see if he could recognize the area. “Hmm…”

“Yeah?” Joe asked eagerly.

“You got us lost,” Candy nodded sagely.

“Me?” Joe sputtered.

“I was following you,” the foreman raised his eyebrows innocently.

Joe muttered a few choice words under his breath as he massaged his temples, “I do not need this.”

“You’re telling me,” Candy leaned against a tree. “Maybe next time you should leave a trail of bread crumbs.”

“I don’t need that either,” Joe said, casting his friend a dark look.

“Sorry,” Candy mumbled, running a hand across his forehead. His thoughts were starting to feel a bit muddled.

“All right,” Joe muttered after a few more seconds, “I think it’s this way.”

He took a few steps before looking back at Candy, “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Candy pushed away from the tree, trying to bite down the grimace that putting pressure on his arm elicited.

Joe didn’t miss the grimace though, and frowned, “You going to make it?”

“I’m fine,” he muttered “I just hope this is the right way.”

* * * * *

“This isn’t camp.”

“How astute,” Joe grumbled, as he eyed the log cabin in front of them. It was no bigger than any of the line shacks back on the Ponderosa. A small cluster of trees behind the cabin threw their branches over the roof, casting long shadows across the clearing. The darkened path didn’t look very inviting, but there was a light in the windows. “I think someone’s home.”

“Hope they like late night visitors,” Candy mumbled and started forward.

Joe sighed and followed after his friend, “If they’re not, I’m blaming it all on you.”

“Awful ornery tonight, aren’t you?”

“Between being interrupted, chasing after you, and getting lost, I feel I’ve earned the privilege to be a little annoyed,” Joe snapped back before knocking on the door.

Candy muttered something else under his breath and Joe ignored him. What was really bothering him was getting Candy’s arms cleaned up. The last thing he wanted was those wounds getting infected, and by the lack of the usual chatter from his friend, he had a feeling they were bothering Candy more than he let on. Then again, that was typical.

The door swung open to reveal an older man with a short grizzled beard and narrowed blue eyes, “Who are ya, and what are ya doin’ on my doorstep at this hour?”

“I’m Joe Cartwright, this is Candy Canaday,” Joe spoke up, “we’re actually trying to find our campsite–“

“Well this ain’t it,” the suspicious man interrupted testily.

“Yes I know that,” Joe struggled to hold onto his patience, “but maybe since you live around these parts you might be able to help point us in the right direction.”

The man took that in, quickly glancing over to Candy, who had his arms pressed rather firmly against his chest, “What’s his problem?”

“Had a run-in with a rather disgruntled woodland creature,” the foreman forced a smile.

The man considered them both for a moment before opening the door wide enough for them to enter, “Fine, but only long enough for ya to get turned back in the right direction, then I want ya off my property. The name’s Jagger by the way.”

They both nodded and Joe entered first, Candy following behind slowly. The old man led Joe over to a crudely drawn map made out of animal hide hung up on the wall, while Candy let his gaze roam over the rest of the small one-room cabin. A fireplace was built on the wall opposite to the door, with a sizable fire already blazing in the hearth. A bed was shoved up against another wall, and was only a few paces from a not-so-strategically-placed desk that sat almost dead centered in the cabin. All-in-all, the cabin would have been normal enough, if every free spot on the wall, floor, or desk wasn’t covered with a dead animal of some sort. Several hides were tacked up on the wall, as well as a few trophy heads.

“Calling this overkill would just be corny,” the foreman muttered as he leant against the desk. He glanced back at the fire, wondering if it was built too high, because he was already wanting to shed his jacket.

“We didn’t set camp up too far from a creek,” Joe said as he studied the map with Jagger.

“Oh, well there aren’t too many of those around here,” the hunter grumbled sarcastically, but highlighted the creeks with his fingers.

Joe bit his tongue and continued to look at the map, “It’s in a small clearing, not too far off the main trail.”

Jagger’s eyes seemed to light up in recognition as he regarded the map more carefully, “I use to camp up in that area until I figured the land’s layout real good.”

“Are these other spots on the map your other camp sites?” he asked curiously.

“No,” the hunter flatly replied and pointed to a section right off what Joe assumed to be a trail. “This is where you’re camped.”

The heat was getting to be too much, so Candy shrugged out of his shredded jacket, all the while feeling as if a thousand dead animals’ eyes were watching him. Without it wasn’t much better, but if he started stripping down any further that might raise a few questions from the two men still busying themselves with the map.

He satisfied himself by moving further from the fire, and away from the buck’s head mounted above it that kept giving him sad looks. Still gripping the edge of the desk, he made it to the other end as something caught his eye. Familiar long and slender claws protruded slightly from under a rabbit’s pelt. The ivory-colored claws curved almost in the same arcs that crisscrossed his forearms.

“Just follow the hunter’s trail until you meet the creek,” Jagger finished telling Joe. “I assume you can find your way from there.”

“Much obliged,” Joe tipped his hat and turned to face his friend, “c’mon Candy.”

Candy looked up at the sound of his name, and stared blankly at Joe until the words registered in his mind, “Oh, right. Your sense of direction all straightened out now?”

“Yes,” Joe rolled his eyes, his patience dangerously nearing its end, “let’s get moving.”

The foreman’s head bobbed once in agreement and slowly crossed the small room to join his friend at the door. As he passed Jagger, the hunter reached out and grabbed one of Candy’s injured forearms firmly, “Where’d you get these?”

Candy winced at the pressure and tried to pull his arm away, but Jagger’s grip was too strong, “An overgrown bobcat was kind enough to do me the favor.”

“This ain’t from no bobcat,” the hunter growled, staring at the wounds with an almost hungry look. “These’re from a man-beast that can blend in with the trees…”

“Let him go,” Joe’s voice was quiet, but the order firm as he stepped forward.

Jagger ignored him and continued to stare the foreman in the eye, “Once it gets its claws in ya, it’s only a matter of time ‘fore it comes back to finish ya off.”

Candy paled slightly at the thought of having to face that beast again, as Joe succeeded in extracting the foreman’s arm from Jagger’s grip. He deftly maneuvered himself between the hunter and his friend, “We’re leaving now.”

“You’re a marked man!” Jagger continued to rave as Joe backed up, forcing Candy out the door as well. “No matter where you go, it’ll find you!”

“Can’t say I like the sound of that too much,” Joe kept one hand on Candy’s shoulder to guide him as he watched the path to make sure that Jagger wasn’t going to follow them.

“Stop pushing,” Candy mumbled and jerked his shoulder out of his friend’s grip, looking very determined to keep moving in the opposite direction of the cabin.

As Joe walked he kept stealing glances over his shoulder until they were out of sight of the cabin. Finally he faced forward with a sigh, “That was pleasant.”

“And oh so informative,” Candy said, as his steps slowed to a halt and he glanced back at Joe. “Maybe you ought to lead the way since you got directions from our crazy hermit friend.”

“All right,” Joe took in his friend’s pale face and pained expression with concern, “but if you need a break you better let me know.”

“I’ve got a couple of scratches, but there ain’t nothing wrong with my legs.”

“Humor me, all right?” Joe forced a smile, and then checked their surroundings before making the way back to camp. “Let’s see, it’s this way… I think.”

“Lord help us, I’m never gonna get to sleep at this rate,” Candy groaned and trudged after his friend.

* * * * *

If thinking earlier had just started to become difficult, now it was near impossible; it felt as if his thoughts were struggling through a thick muck just to form. Every now and then the world seemed to lose focus, and Candy found himself shaking his head to try and clear his vision. He still had his jacket clutched in one hand, and the cold wind seemed to give him some relief from the heat that threatened to overtake him.

Finally, he conceded to his body and slumped against a tree for a break. In front of him Joe continued to walk on, seeming focused on their path. He screwed his eyes shut for a moment, forcing his protesting pride to be silent. He wouldn’t very well make it back to camp if he started falling on his face every few steps. With a deep sigh, he opened his eyes and called out for Joe to stop.

Joe turned around as soon as he heard the shout from his friend, approaching the slumped form with no small bit of concern, “I’d be lying if I said you looked good.”

“Thanks,” Candy breathed and shook his head lightly, “I’ll remember to not have you talk me up to that Sanders gal for the barn dance.”

“I’m not kidding,” Joe said as he stripped off one of his gloves before placing a hand against his friend’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

The foreman resisted the initial urge to bat the hand away, knowing that Joe was only trying to help, “I could have told you that.”

“Then why didn’t you?” the question held a small edge of accusation.

“I figured you were busy keeping us from getting lost,” Candy grinned 

Joe slipped the glove back on, fixing his friend with an annoyed look, “Need I remind you who prompted this entire romp in the woods in the first place?”

“Yeah, pick on the injured man.”

Joe took in a deep, calming breath as he reminded himself it would be more trouble to knock the man in front of him out and carry him back to camp. Once centered, and sure he wasn’t going to cause further harm to his friend, Joe gripped Candy’s shoulder and steered him back on the path, “We need to get you back to camp.”

“Haven’t you said that before?” Candy frowned.

“Yes, well maybe this time people will start believing me,” Joe rolled his eyes. Candy opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off before he could start. “I swear if you’ve got some other crack about being lost–“

“Actually I was going to compliment you on your shooting earlier, but…” the foreman trailed off with a light shrug.

“I know you better than that,” Joe mumbled, then shook his friend’s shoulder as his eyes seemed to glaze over. “Hey, stay with me here.”

“Why? You’re not good conversation,” he grumbled as he seemed to lose his footing for a second.

Joe caught him though and hauled him up, “How about I talk and you listen? That way we both get back home in one piece.”

“Fine. Jabber away.”

“I will,” Joe paused as he narrowed down the choice of topics that he could talk about for minutes on end. “Ah, here’s a good one! As Mary Sue went to investigate the sound, she was unaware of the evil that was creeping up behind her. With long sharp claws and a craving for blood, it only had one thing in mind. With a shriek that was neither man nor beast it leapt–“

“JOE!”

“What?”

“That’s not a comforting story!”

“Oh, right… there once was a horse named… Cochise?”

* * * * *

By the time they reached the camp site, Joe was practically holding Candy up, and the foreman had lapsed into a running sarcastic commentary on any story Joe attempted to tell. Both Boxer and Hanes looked up in surprise, as their boss practically dragged the foreman into camp, and for a moment they were at a loss for words.

“Save me,” Candy gasped, his forehead covered in a fine layer of perspiration.

A flabbergasted Boxer helped Joe lay the foreman down near the fire, while Hanes eyed Joe suspiciously, “What’d you do to him?”

“Me? Nothing!”

“Don’t listen to him!” Candy protested fiercely, a fevered look in his eyes, “He’s been trying to kill me with those stories of his.”

Joe heaved in yet another deep, calming breath. He’d lost track of how many times he’d had to do that, and just rubbed his temples, “Boxer, pour out that coffee and get some hot water boiling. Hanes, can you bring his bedroll next to the fire?”

The barely checked annoyance in his voice let the two ranch hands know that their boss had been pushed to the limit of his patience, and offered no argument. Boxer quickly dumped out the old coffee and emptied his canteen into the pot. After he placed it on the coals, he dared to look at Joe, “What happened?”

“Joe got us lost,” Candy mumbled from the ground.

“I did NOT get us lost!” Joe finally snapped. He glared at the injured man for a few moments before trying to reign in his temper once again, and then turned back to face Boxer. “He was attacked by something in the forest.”

“Like what?” Hanes spoke up, as he unceremoniously dumped the foreman’s bedroll on the ground and began unrolling it. “Cougar? Bear?”

Both Joe and Candy remained silent, as they didn’t quite know how to answer the question.

“What was it?” Boxer prompted, as he gently grabbed one of Candy’s arms and began to look it over. He pursed his lips as he noticed that the skin around the gouges was starting to swell. Abruptly he stood up and made a bee line for his saddlebags. Quickly he grabbed them and emptied them out on the ground next to Candy.

“What are you doing?” Joe had never seen this side of the shy ranch hand before.

“Getting ready to clean the cuts out. Now what did this?” the young ranch hand asked again.

Joe was silent for a few more moments before finally answering, “I don’t know.”

Boxer set down the flask and eyed his employer, “Was it too dark to see?”

“No,” Joe fidgeted nervously under the scrutiny. “It was something I haven’t ever seen before.”

“Had long, sharp claws,” Candy pushed himself up, earning a glare from both Joe Cartwright and Joe Boxer, “and… was almost like a furry man.”

“So a bear,” Hanes concluded as he stood back from the group.

“No,” Joe corrected quietly. “It was too thin to be a bear.”

Boxer exchanged a look with Hanes, “You think…?”

“That was just a bunch of drunken babble,” the older ranch hand insisted.

Joe looked between the two, “What was?”

“In town,” Boxer explained, “I heard two old men talking about this creature that’d been killing the livestock.”

Joe thought he heard Candy mumble Peterson’s name, but couldn’t be sure. He shook his head and pinned Boxer with a stare, “What does it matter?”

The ranch hand averted his gaze from his employer, and let them drift back to Candy taking in deep breaths and trying to stay focused on the conversation.

“Well?”

Boxer sighed and gave Candy a sympathetic look, “He’s got most of the symptoms of being snake bit.”

Candy’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, “I may be delirious, but that had to ‘ve been a mighty deformed snake.”

“How can you be sure?” Joe asked quietly.

“The scratches may look infected, but that’s only half of it.” Boxer’s voice quivered slightly as he felt his nerve leaving him. He pressed on quickly. “He’s got that cold clammy skin, fever, and shortness of breath… seen all of that with snake bites.”

“You know your stuff,” Candy mumbled, as the young ranch hand gently pushed him down on the unfurled bedroll.

“Yeah,” Boxer agreed softly.

Joe meanwhile was alternating between glaring at the trees and pursing his lips together, trying to weigh the diagnosis in his mind, “Fine. We’ve got to pack up, get him to a doctor.”

“The closest town is at least four hours away,” Hanes reminded him.

“So? The sooner we get him there the sooner the doc can take a look at him,” Joe crossed his arms.

“In the dark? In this light we might get lost–“

Without looking, Joe jabbed a finger in the foreman’s direction to silence any comment he was thinking about saying.

“–or one of the horses might stumble, and we’d wind up with more than one injured man,” Hanes finished dryly.

Joe started eyeing the tree line again, not wanting to acknowledge the wisdom in that statement just yet.

“And if you didn’t know what that animal was, there’s a good chance the doctor’s never heard of it. He might not be able to do anything,” Boxer added as he tore a sleeve off one of the clean shirts from his saddlebags, and placed it in the boiling pot of water.

“The thing’s still out there,” Candy pointed out helpfully. “Would hate for it to take a chunk out of Cochise or Dusk.”

“So then what?” Joe snapped.

“Since we don’t know what this thing is, there’s a chance the poison might not be deadly,” Boxer said.

“A chance?” Joe muttered to himself. “So we should just sit around here and wait to see if it kills him?”

“‘s not so bad,” Candy’s words were becoming more slurred, “can hardly feel anything at all.”

Boxer and Joe exchanged worried looks.

“‘side from the burning pain,” Candy added.

Joe wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or relieved at that, and decided that walking from one end of camp to the other would be the best way to relieve his anxiety.

“‘s like gettin’ bit by a Gila monster… just ’bout ten more times and up and down both arms.”

Boxer just shook his head at the fevered ramblings and began to clean out the wounds, while Joe continued to pace. After a few more trips across the camp site, Hanes heaved a deep sigh, “You’re gonna wear a trench into the ground if you keep that up.”

“Sorry,” Joe muttered, absent-mindedly rubbing the back of his neck, “I just can’t wait around here hoping.”

“It’s not like you can do much else.”

“Maybe not… or,” Joe’s eyes lit up as a thought hit him. He crossed the camp swiftly, dropping to a crouch next to Boxer,(.) “You said the doc might not have heard of this animal… but what if he saw it?”

“What?” the other three men in camp asked in unison.

“Would that help any?” Joe pressed eagerly.

“I don’t know… maybe.”

Joe stood up confidently, “Well then–“

“Oh no,” Candy tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by his self-appointed nursemaid. “You don’t need to go off into those woods again chasin’ after that thing, gettin’ yourself–“

“I didn’t us get lost! That was all your doing!” Joe interrupted exasperated.

“‘s gonna say killed, but that’ll work too,” Candy mumbled. He paused and assessed his friend from the ground. From his past experiences with him, Joe only got this agitated when he was really concerned. He’d probably ignore Candy and go off anyway, despite not knowing where to start looking for the beast. He sighed, maybe it was a wild goose chase but it’d be the lesser of two evils. “Jagger had one in his cabin.”

“He what?”

“On his desk,” Candy’s tongue was starting to feel thick. He must’ve been talking too much on the way back to camp. “I saw the claws stickin’ out from under a pelt.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t something else?”

“Got a pretty good look at them while they were tearin’ into me,” he reached for Boxer’s canteen to find it empty. The ranch hand grabbed Hanes’s canteen, only getting a small protest from the man as he handed it to Candy. The foreman took a long gulp of water before looking back at Joe, “I’m sure.”

“All right. Hanes, you’re with me.”

“Me? Why?” Joe just glared at him, and he relented quickly. “Fine.”

“Boxer, you stay here and take care of him,” Joe told the young man needlessly.

“Don’t worry Joe. I was a stretcher-bearer in the war, handled plenty of stubborn patients,” Boxer said, earning a few surprised glances from his companions.

“You don’t say?” Joe smiled softly, and then looked down at Candy. “And you just hang in there. You haven’t let me finish my story yet.”

“Don’t you want to give me a reason to live?” Candy asked innocently.

Joe decided to let the comment slide and turned to Hanes, who just finished strapping on his gun belt, “Let’s go.”

Hanes nodded and they both started for the trail back to Jagger’s cabin. Just as they reached the edge of camp, Hanes spoke up softly, “You know this probably won’t help at all. Boxer’s still no doctor, even if he knows some medical jargon.”

“I’m not going to just sit there and watch him die if there’s something I can still do about it,” Joe muttered in reply. “Even if it’s something small.”

Hanes shook his head, not getting the man next to him, “Doesn’t make any sense.”

“‘ey Boxer, I didn’ know ya served in the army,” Candy’s voice drifted from the fire.

“Maybe not,” Joe conceded. “Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”

* * * * *

The walk back to Jagger’s cabin had been a quiet one as Joe tried to form a plan in his mind and Hanes had started constructing a list in his head of other things he could be doing at that very moment. He had gotten to item number fifty-seven when Joe put out a hand to stop him, pointing up ahead, “There it is.”

Hanes studied the darkened cabin through the foliage, not seeing any signs of life, “He looks to be asleep.”

“Hm, that might be a problem,” Joe mumbled to himself.

“Yeah, how ’bout we just head back and forget about this? That way everyone wins,” Hanes started to make his way back towards the trail, but was yanked back down by Joe. “Or not.”

“Listen, I’m not leaving here without that creature, and you’re not leaving until I say so.”

“Can I just wait out here while you go steal from the old man?” Hanes whined.

Joe’s eyebrows danced lightly as a smirk spread across his face, “Just what I was thinking.”

For some reason, those words weren’t at all comforting.
“I hate you Joe Cartwright,” Hanes hissed as Joe started to make his way across the yard, sticking to the shadows.

“That’s fine; just stick to your part of the plan.”

“It’s a stupid plan.”

Joe paused behind a tree and turned back to Hanes, “Come on, just wait ’till I give you the signal, then you start up. Trust me, an old hunter like Jagger won’t be able to resist checking out that noise.”

“And when he starts coming my way with a shotgun?”

“Bellow like a mad heifer and run for it.”

“Did I mention I hate you?”

Joe decided to ignore Hanes and finished his trek across the dark yard, sliding along the cabin wall until he reached the window. Removing his hat, he peered around the corner of the window sill, hoping he wasn’t casting too much of a shadow. The interior of the cabin was too dark for him to see inside. That could have been Jagger in what he guessed was the bed, but couldn’t be certain. He slinked away from the window, and then signaled for Hanes to start up with the distraction.

Across the yard, Hanes cursed his boss once more under his breath, before taking in a deep breath. Not for the first time in his life, he wished he hadn’t shown all the bunkhouse boys his barnyard impressions, but it was too late now. He cast an evil glare in Joe’s direction, then, “MOOOOOOOO!”

Hanes couldn’t see Joe very clearly in the shadows, but he got the impression of shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Gritting his teeth together, he promised himself vengeance at a later date. The next moo came out very annoyed, and perhaps Joe got the message, because he quickly ducked around the side of the house. Perhaps if he played the part of an angry cow that’d make Jagger come out faster, and Hanes could start forgetting this embarrassing chapter in his life.
Joe watched around the corner for about half a minute, but no sign of life stirred in the house. He motioned for Hanes to up the volume of his mooing, just in case. Another long and tense minute passed, but still no movement, no sound, nothing to indicate that anyone was in the cabin at all. Joe frowned and decided to keep exploring the area. As he slid further along the wall, he made out the outline of a small make-shift barn or shed. It was only large enough to house one animal, but an old hunter like Jagger would probably only need something to transport his hides to town and bring back supplies.

He crept across the open area as silently as he could, before peering into the shed. A burst of moonlight from a crack in the tree line illuminated part of the interior. The partially eaten oats in the corner, as well as the faint scent remaining confirmed Joe’s suspicions that an animal had been housed there. The moonlight seemed to focus on the center of the shack, where the animal had left a print of its hoofs. While not much of a tracker one thing Joe did know was horses, and he could tell right away that Jagger kept a mule. That made enough sense; the man would want a pack animal, not a flashy riding horse.

He glanced back up at the oats. They were fresh, which meant the animal had been fed recently. Since the stall was empty, that meant one of two things. Either the mule had died recently, or Jagger had made a midnight trip somewhere. With far less caution he walked back to the front of the house, and eased the door open. Still nothing stirred in the house. He let out a sigh. That was a relief. Outside the bellowing of an angry milk cow persisted. With a smile and a shake of his head, Joe leaned back out the door, “Hey Hanes, he’s not here.”

“He’s not?” The reply contained a mixture of relief and annoyance. “I just carried on like an idiot out here for nothing?”

“Yep, come on inside and keep an eye out for me,” Joe grinned at the disgruntled cow hand emerging from the tree line. “I’ve got no idea when he’s coming back.”

“I swear if you mention that to ANYONE–“

“You’re secret’s safe with moo… I mean me.”

Hanes started to tell his boss to shut up, but Joe had already headed back into the cabin, heading straight for the desk situated in the center of the room.

“You know, a light might help you a bit,” Hanes pointed out, stalling at the door, partly because he didn’t really want to enter the cabin, and also to keep an eye and ear out for Jagger’s return.

“Right,” Joe muttered and felt around the desk, hoping to come in contact with a lamp. His hands passed over what felt to be animal pelts and trophies, before he felt the smooth surface of a kerosene lamp. Feeling around he found the knob on the bottom and turned it. He fished into his pockets but didn’t find any matches. So much for being prepared, “Hanes, you got a match?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Hanes made his way through the darkness, joining Joe at the desk. As soon as he struck the match, a small light illuminated the area around the desk, revealing to Joe that he had felt a few dead animals before finding the lamp. Hanes quickly lit the lamp before the match went out, then turned up the wick so it illuminated a good portion of the cabin. He considered all the hides and stuffed heads mounted on the walls, “So I’m going to take a wild guess and say this guy likes to kill things.”

“Appears that way, huh?” Joe mumbled as he started trying to sort through the various animals on the desk. “Real specific Candy, ‘there’s something on the desk’.”

“Well a creature as big as you said it was couldn’t be on the desk…”

Joe was about to agree, before his eye caught the long sickle-shaped claws still partially hidden under another pelt. He lifted the white fur off it to reveal a small paw, reminding him of a rabbit’s foot he use to have when he was kid. With some trepidation he lifted it up for Hanes to see.

“What the…?”

“Crazy foreman starting to make a little sense?” Joe narrowed a brow at the man in front of him.

“I never said–“

“We can read between the lines.”

Hanes fell silent and Joe turned his attention back to the item in his hand. From the looks of it, it came from an animal a lot smaller than what had attacked Candy. However the shape of the claws seemed to match his friend’s wounds, and didn’t come from any animal Joe could recognize. That meant he probably had the right item. He just hoped it was enough to help in some way.

“This has to be it. Let’s go before Jagger gets back,” Joe turned to leave, his gaze falling upon the map-hide he’d studied with Jagger earlier. A strange feeling settled in his gut as he looked at the map, and without much thought he swiftly walked across the room and took it off the wall.

Hanes watched him with uncertainly, “You take that and he’ll be sure to know we were here.”

“Like he won’t notice his ‘rabbit’s foot’ gone,” Joe replied curtly. A strange sense of urgency had passed over him as he’d looked at the map, and he felt the need to vacate the cabin as quickly as possible. Hanes hurriedly blew out the lamp and had to jog to catch up with Joe.

“Getting a bit edgy, aren’t we Joe?” 

“With how many heads are mounted on that wall, can you honestly tell me you want to be in that cabin when Jagger gets back?”

“Now that you mention it, is stealing the man’s map and good luck charm such a good idea?”

Joe bit his lip, “Let’s get back to camp.”

* * * * *

After he’d finished cleaning out the scratches on Candy’s arms, Boxer had managed to get some more water in him. Not too long after that, the foreman had slipped into a fevered sleep, leaving Boxer to keep watch alone. He’d already refilled his canteen at the stream, using the cool water to try and help bring the fever down. Beyond that, he didn’t know much to do. His time in the war had taught him how to sew up wounds, and some about preventing infections, but any men who were snake bit usually didn’t live past the first night. He hadn’t wanted to say as much around Joe, but he wasn’t sure there was much a doctor could do for Candy anyway.

He knew the two men were good friends, and didn’t miss the look that passed on Joe’s face when he’d mentioned the infection looking similar to a snake bite. He was inclined to believe their story about some monster causing the wounds, to Boxer that made sense. Everyone in that town hadn’t been afraid of a few bear attacks, they were afraid of something they didn’t know how to handle. The fear in their eyes was nearly identical to the one Joe Cartwright had been trying to hide.

Candy half-moaned, half-mumbled something as he tossed around restlessly. Boxer watched him for a moment, wondering if he’d wake. After another mumbled sentence he seemed to settle. Boxer sighed and poked the campfire with Joe’s forgotten story stick. Since he’d started working on the Ponderosa, Boxer had made a lot of friends, and he considered Candy one of them. So it wasn’t just for Joe’s sake that he was hoping that whatever was working its way through Candy’s body wasn’t deadly.

A twig snapped. At least that’s what Boxer thought he heard above the soft crackle of the fire. He turned his head towards the direction of the sound, but the woods remained silent. A sense of unease overcame him and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Cautiously he reached for the rifle from his bedroll, and slowly walked towards the edge of camp. It could have been Joe and Hanes returning from the cabin… but then again, they’d probably shout out to him to give him a little warning. The wind blew softly against him, causing him to shiver. In front of him, the darkness still held nothing.
The world was a confusing mix of hot, cold, and pain for Candy. The last real thing he could remember was trying to goad Boxer into telling him more about his time in the war. He opened his eyes to reveal a world slightly out of focus. Beside him a campfire was still burning, but not as high as it had when it first had been built. He rolled his head to the other side to see the contents of his bedroll arranged in a haphazard manner. He didn’t see anyone in his immediate field of vision though. He frowned, his muddled mind trying to figure out where Joe, Hanes, and Boxer had gone to.

Vaguely he began to recall a conversation about a Gila monster, horses, and hunting. Had Joe taken the others hunting for a Gila monster? No, that wasn’t it. Something about the cabin and a desk. Yeah, that was it; he’d seen those big long claws back at that creepy hunter’s cabin. Joe had taken Hanes to go and get those claws, for whatever reason Joe had thought it’d help.

Then where was Boxer? He frowned and shifted around some more, finally seeing the man at the edge of camp, looking out into the darkness. He was keeping watch. That made sense.

A movement in the tree line caused Candy’s gaze to shift over there. A slender form emerged from the shadows, and for a moment Candy wasn’t sure if it was a man or the monster that had been plaguing his dreams. He tried to will his eyes to focus, and was able to discern a thick jacket covering a man carrying a double-barreled shotgun sneaking up on Boxer.

It took a few moments for the thoughts to connect, but as soon as they did Candy shouted out, “Behind you!”

It was too late. Boxer whirled around in time to see the heavy butt of a rifle thrusting towards him. The blow connected solidly with the side of his head, and the ranch hand crumpled to the ground in a heap. Candy tried to push himself up, but found that the fever had robbed him of most of his strength. He collapsed back to the ground as his arms seemed to turn into spaghetti. As soon as the man had determined that Boxer was unconscious he turned to face Candy.

Sleep started to beckon Candy again, but he tried to ignore it. He had to get up, he had to help Boxer and somehow fight this attacker. His body refused to cooperate though, and as darkness started to fall again, he was able to recognize the towering form of Jagger as he approached with slow and deliberate steps.

* * * * *

“I’ll be glad when we’re out of these woods,” Hanes tried to gather his jacket closer around him and nervously glanced over his shoulder, as if any moment Old Man Jagger would come tearing through the trees waving his shotgun. “Place gives me the creeps.”

Joe nodded mutely, more intent on finding their way back to camp than listening to Hanes. The unease that started to creep up on him in the cabin had increased with each step, and it was all he could do to not break into a run. Once again he repeated the mantra in his head that he was overreacting, and that nothing was wrong. Once again, the words did nothing to settle his nerves.

They were almost to the campsite now, and aside from Hanes muttering about woods and monsters, the night was silent. He shook his head furiously as if that would dispel the unease in his gut. Not that much longer and they’d reach camp, and hopefully Joe would be able to assure himself that nothing was amiss. He motioned to Hanes to quiet down and paused a few yards from camp, “Hey Boxer! We’re coming in!”

Only the chill wind answered him, sending a cold shiver down his spine. He and Hanes exchanged wary glances, and without much of a thought both men drew their guns as they finished their approach to camp with caution. As soon as they reached the edge of their campsite, they could see why Boxer hadn’t answered. He was sprawled out on the ground with a swelled jaw and a bleeding cut on his temple. Hanes quickly stowed his gun away as he rushed over to the fallen man’s side.

Joe let his gaze roam further around the campsite, finding the bedroll by the fire empty. His feet moved almost on their own accord as he dropped down next to the empty blanket. His mind was awhirl, a thousand different scenarios playing out in his head, and none of them leading to a happy ending.

“‘ey Boxer, c’mon,” Hanes had the injured ranch hand half-cradled in his arms as he gently shook the man. “Wake up.”

Hanes efforts were rewarded with a low and painful groan, as Boxer’s eyes fluttered open. Hanes offered his friend a relieved smile, “There ya go.”

Boxer’s brow creased in confusion as he tried to comprehend what was going on, “Hanes?” 

Joe rose from his roost in front of the campfire and glanced back over at the two, “How is he?”

“Looks like he got a real good clobbering,” Hanes lightly traced the wound, causing Boxer to yelp. “I think he’ll be all right though.”

“Snuck up on me,” Boxer mumbled, as he tried to work through confusing jumble of memories.

“Who snuck up on you?”

“Didn’t get a good look,” Boxer shook his head, which only increased the pounding inside his skull.

Something pricked on the edge of Joe’s mind, and he dropped back to the ground again, now studying the dirt around the campfire. In the dirt, under his boot prints, he could see the imprint of something much larger and heavier. His hand traced the outline of the mule’s hoof print, a frown settling on his face. He tried to remember everything Hoss had taught him about tracking as he began following the hoof prints, seeing the imprint go deeper, as if something heavy was loaded up onto the animal. Something… or someone.

Finally he stood, but didn’t look back at Hanes and Boxer, “It was Jagger.”

“Jagger?” Hanes looked confused. “As in, the man whose cabin we were just at?”

Joe nodded, “He knocked out Boxer and loaded Candy up on his mule.”

“He couldn’t have known what we were up to… so why’d he do this?”

Joe withdrew the map from his pocket and considered it, “I’m not sure…”

* * * * *

Awareness slowly began to come over Candy, and the first thought that worked its way into his mind was that he was cold. He tried to curl into a ball to try and warm himself, but felt his stomach muscles protest at the movement. His eyes opened, first in narrow slits, as he tried to figure out what was going on. He could see the packed dirt of the forest floor and an amalgamation of pine needles and dried leaves. Logically, that would place him on the ground. As he moved his hands to try and push himself into a sitting position, he found that they wouldn’t move. He glanced down to see that they were tied together. Oh, well that explained that.

He experimented with his legs, but found they wouldn’t move either, and assumed that they were bound together as well.

Why am I tied up, again? he finally asked himself. No explanation came to mind, and he finally decided that maybe he could afford to panic a little.

Ignoring the sore stomach muscles he struggled to pull himself up so he could get a better idea of where he was.

“Stubborn one, ain’cha?”

That voice… he abandoned his struggles to sit up and instead rolled over to face the speaker. He frowned, trying to place the grizzled beard and beady blue eyes.

“Ah, I think the fever’s still got a little bit of a grip on ya,” the hunter leaned against the trunk of one of the forest’s many pines as he began checking his weapon over. “It’ll pass soon. The creature’s poison ain’t a fatal one, just enough to weaken its prey before it can finish off the job.”

“Jagger?” The name finally came to Candy and he again tried to sit up. “What…?”

“Ah, y’might as well give up and be still. I’m sure yer feeling a bit sore from where I had to sling ya across my mule. And ya wouldn’t make it ten feet without collapsing even if ya didn’t have the ropes on.”

“Untie me then,” out came the patented Canaday grin. Fevered and bound, he still wasn’t helpless, at least not in his mind.

“Oh, but where would be all the fun in that?” Jagger leaned his shotgun against the tree as he studied his captive. “‘s(S)ides, I can’t take the chance that maybe you could run off.”

“Why?” a bead of sweat ran down from Candy’s forehead and slowly worked its way down his face as his fever started to break.

“Cause a hunter needs his bait placed in a strategic position. Otherwise his prey might be able to get away.”

“Bait?”

“Yes, and live bait is the best isn’t it?”

Not if you’re the bait, Candy silently amended as he tried to get his brain to focus on an escape plan.

Jagger looked a bit disappointed when he didn’t get a response, and began circling his captive like a vulture, “You see, when the creature scratches ya, it leaves a poison in ya. Near as I can figure it, it’s got some way of being able to tell where its victim is. Maybe it can smell it, never thought about it too much. Then it waits for the poison to take effect ‘fore it comes back to finish the job.”

“It’s going to eat me?” That wasn’t a pleasant thought.

“Nah, it eats animals like horses and deer. It don’t attack a human unless you make it mad,” Jagger grinned at Candy. “I’m guessin’ you got its dander up about something.”

Candy shook his head, he hadn’t done anything. He had just seen the one dying creature and was leaving when the other one attacked him. The dying creature though, he glanced suspiciously up at Jagger, “You killed one of them…”

The hunter’s eyes seemed to light up with the news, “I thought I’d hit the bastard. Guess ya got the blame for my dirty deed, eh? Too bad… they’re awfully vengeful creatures. Don’t take kindly to people messin’ with their own.”

“Then why did you?” All this thinking was starting to make Candy’s head pound. So far none of it still made any sense.

“Because they messed with me first!” Jagger roared and dropped down to the ground and pulled the foreman up by his vest. “I come home to find my wife and baby girl…”

His face contorted in pain as the images of his past assaulted him. Roughly he threw Candy back to the ground and stormed back over to his gun and began checking it over almost obsessively.

The jumbled mess was starting to sort out in Candy’s mind, and a clearer picture of what was going on started to take form, “They don’t attack without provocation.”

Jagger ignored him and began loading and unloading shells from the cartridge.

“You just said so, so they wouldn’t just attack your family without reason,” he struggled to sit up, wanting to look this madman in the eye. “So something had to happen for them to do that.”

His mind flashed back to the ivory claws on the desk and the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place, “You did start it. You killed one of them.”

“I didn’t know what it was!” The hunter’s face began to deepen a few shades of red as he screamed at the man on the ground. “I thought maybe it was some starved bear cub at first. I was gonna take it into town and show it.”

“You killed their child?” the monster that had attacked Candy started to take a new shape.

“I killed a monster!” Jagger roared back. “A freak of nature that’s survived on the fringes of decent human society.”

“A freak of nature that’s been able to elude you for how long now?”

“Shut up!” the hunter screamed and aimed his shotgun at his captor, for a moment, looking as if he were going to actually pull the trigger.

“Go on,” Candy breathed, thankful that the fog around his mind was lifting. “Then you won’t be able to bag your catch tonight.”

Jagger growled as he realized that Candy was right. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and placed his shotgun back against the tree. Giving the gun a reverent touch, he turned back to the bound man, “So I can’t kill you, but I still can shut you up.”

Jagger dropped down next to his captive and violently yanked Candy’s kerchief from around his neck and roughly fashioned it into a gag around the man’s mouth, “Just in case you get any smart ideas about trying to scare it away.”

Candy just glared at Jagger, his mind racing to find a way to get out of this mess.

* * * * *

“Doesn’t make sense,” Hanes shook his head as he settled Boxer down on Candy’s bedroll near the fire. When he was done he looked up to see Joe still staring at that map-hide. “You two didn’t tick him off while you were there, did ya?”

“No,” Joe frowned and let his arms fall to his side, the map still clutched firmly in a fist. “He only started to get real weird when he saw Candy’s scratches.”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world to look at.”

“No, I mean, he changed. He wasn’t exactly friendly before, but as soon as he saw those, he started raving about a monster…”

Hanes raised an eyebrow, “The same one that maybe took a chunk out of Candy, and had claws like you’ve got in your coat there?”

Joe withdrew the clawed paw out of his pocket, hearing Jagger’s words echo in his mind: Once it gets its claws in ya, it’s only a matter of time ‘fore it comes back to finish ya off!

“It’s not Candy he wants,” Joe muttered, as he started to get an idea why his friend had been taken. “He’s just the bait.”

“Bait? For what?” Joe waved the claw at him. “Oh, so he expects this thing to come out of the woods so it can finish the job?”

“That won’t happen if I find them first,” Joe looked at the mule tracks leading back into the woods.

Hanes eyed his boss warily, “If you expect to track that mule to wherever Jagger got himself off to, you’re more cracked than he is!”

“That’s where a map comes in handy,” the young Cartwright waved it like a prize he’d won at the county fair. Hanes shook his head in disbelief, and Joe pointed to five points circled on the map, “I’ve got the feeling these have something to do with those creatures. He said he used this map when he moved this deep into the woods. Now a hunter like him can probably find his way around real easy-like, but if he wanted to keep track of his quarry’s movements…”

Hanes caught on, “…then he’d plot it out.”

“Exactly. So my guess is he took Candy to one of these places. Combine that with the direction of the tracks, and I think I might be able to find him,” Joe finished.

“‘I’? You’re going alone?”

“Someone’s got to stay here and take care of Boxer… besides,” Joe grinned, “you wouldn’t want to have to repeat your performance, do you?”

Hanes grumbled under his breath before raising his voice, “If you’re not back by morning, I’m taking Boxer here to a doc without you.”

“Wouldn’t expect any less,” Joe straightened his hat, then began to follow the tracks out of camp.

* * * * *

Jagger growled, as for the umpteenth time Canaday tried to work his way free of the ropes, squirm around, and in general, be a nuisance of a captive. He was just about ready to stake the man down to get him to be still. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure he had neglected to pack those before he’d left his cabin. It looked like he would just have to resort to the more crude approach, “Stop yer squirming, or I’ll put a hole in your foot!”

His captive stilled, and Jagger resumed his vigil. It wouldn’t take long for the creature to catch up with them, now that Canaday was in one spot and without any apparent guard. They were upwind, so the creature wouldn’t know he was there until it was too late. The bushes provided enough cover for him not to be visible, but still enough room for him to be able to get one good shot off at the animal.

A low moan filled the air, and Jagger couldn’t help but grin as he recognized the angry tone of his nemesis. He was down to the last one, and finally his family would be avenged. It’d taken him six long years to find their hunting grounds, their favorite kill sites, and understand their every move. Finally, this long struggle would be over, and the ghosts that haunted him would rest in peace. As for the cowboy in front of him… well, sacrifices had to be made.
Candy’s blood ran cold as he heard the distinctive call of the angry beast. He’d hoped that perhaps Joe’s bullets would’ve slowed it down more, but it seemed that the creature’s lust for vengeance was just as strong as Jagger’s. Two beings that had destroyed each other’s lives, and somehow he wound up right in the middle of what looked to be their final battle.

However, as things stood, it looked like he didn’t have much choice in the matter. His kerchief-turned-gag was terribly effective, and he couldn’t get a coherent word out; although he doubted that whatever amount of intelligence the creature possessed was enough to grant it an understanding of the English language. He hadn’t been able to make any progress on his bonds with Jagger’s constant eye not even three feet away, behind those bushes. He also felt fairly certain the hunter wouldn’t hesitate to put a few holes in him to keep him still. 

Still, he refused to admit defeat. The beast gave out another angry howl as it closed in on its prey. Candy’s time was running out.

He needed a plan, and fast.

* * * * *

Joe was tempted to throw the map on the ground and stomp on it a few times. He’d be able to understand the chicken scratch a lot better if he were, say, a crazy hermit that had an unnatural fondness of dead animals. However since he was still Joseph Francis Cartwright, he was having an enormously difficult time interpreting what was suppose to be a stream and what was suppose to be a trail. He’d come to a point where the trees had once again cut off almost any moonlight streaming down, and the tracks he’d been following seemed to disappear before his eyes.

He scrubbed a hand across his face before taking another look at the map. The closest spot on the map looked to be located a small ways off of… he squinted in the darkness and finally decided it was a creek. If that was a creek, he was currently following a trail. He traced the trail back to what he knew as the creek they were camped by, and followed the direction of what he hoped was the path he’d taken. If that was right, then he’d pass right by the creek, and could follow that to the first spot.

A long and angry moan sliced through the silence. If that wasn’t an indication he was on the right track, he didn’t know what was. Stowing the map away, Joe picked up his pace. He had to get there before the creature did. He’d put up with far too many of Candy’s cracks tonight to let him be torn up so some sick bastard could get another trophy head for his wall.

* * * * *

Candy could have sworn that the last cry sounded almost triumphant, and heard the pounding of two feet tearing up the distance between them. His throat caught in his breath as the saplings in front of him started to sway. Long ivory claws tore away through the foliage, before the creature stood before him, heaving in deep breaths, as if the effort to chase him down this far had drained it of most of its energy. The beast lumbered forward, its large brown eyes glued to the immobilized man on the ground. It bent down to sniff closer to Candy, as if to confirm that this was what it’d been tracking.

Swallowing his fear and willing his heart to not pound out of his chest, Candy forced his himself to look the creature in the eyes. If this was to be it, then he’d face death in the eye. Instead of finding the crazed eyes of an enraged beast, he saw an intelligent being. Admittedly a very angry one, but for a moment, the eyes looked almost human to him.

If so, then this thing was a lot smarter than Jagger gave it credit for. He wished now(,) more than ever, that he could spit out the gag in his mouth so he could give this creature some sort of warning. In his mind’s eye, he could see Jagger already lining the shot up. Maybe he couldn’t talk, but maybe this time showing was the best way to make it understand.

Quickly he rocked to one side to start gathering momentum, and then used his bound arms to launch himself in the opposite direction. Rolling almost like a log, he plowed through the brush camouflaging Jagger and collided with the hunter’s legs. The shot he’d been preparing went wild, as he crashed to the ground. Jagger cursed as he tried to untangle himself from Candy and the brush and get a hold of his shotgun again. Above them the creature shrieked and eyed both prone men.

Candy sucked in a breath, and watched as it looked from him to Jagger. With every fiber of his being, he willed it to understand that the hunter had set up this as a trap, and that he was ultimately responsible for the death of the creature’s kin. A long tense moment passed as Jagger scrambled for the shotgun, Candy hoped, and the creature considered. Finally it let loose a cry and swung its claws down towards Jagger.

Taking the opportunity, Candy rolled away as the two opponents began to struggle. Now all he had to do was get away. He looked at his bound hands and feet, and with the gag in his mouth, he knew he couldn’t work the knots free.

Okay, not too hard, just act like a caterpillar and you’ll be good.

He rolled over so he was on his stomach, and used his hands to pull himself up into a kneeling position. That done he began the slow and arduous process of dragging himself away from the fight. Exhaustion began to beg for him to stop, but didn’t allow himself to think those thoughts. Instead he focused on thoughts of Joe, Hoss, and Ben Cartwright. People who cared about him and he knew wouldn’t want him to give up and die. That gave him the extra strength needed, and propelled him forward.

Time seemed to lose all meaning for him, and so he wasn’t sure how long he’d been crawling when he reached the edge of the clearing. As he was about to escape into the trees, a long shadow stretched over him, causing him to pause in his flight. Morbid curiosity forced him to rock on his side so he could get a clear view of the winner of the battle.

He was not extremely surprised to see the creature towering over him and considering him with those intelligent eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping that the creature understood the concept of forgiveness, and maybe even a little misunderstanding in the clearing. The creature’s lip lifted into a snarl and it raised its clawed hand into the air.

Intelligence only went so far. Candy closed his eyes, waiting for the claws to make their downward strike. He’d given it his best, and just hoped that Joe and the others realized that when they came looking for him in the morning. Heaving in a deep sigh, he prepared himself for the inevitable.

But it did not come.

Instead of the feel of claws raking over his flesh, a gunshot roared from somewhere behind him. Candy’s eyes snapped open to see the creature stumble back as it took a hit to its uninjured shoulder. Another bark of a pistol and the creature twisted as the slug dug into its chest. With a final cry of pain it fell to the ground, claws still stretching out towards Candy.

Moments later someone dropped down by his side, first removing the gag from his mouth. Candy looked at his rescuer and couldn’t check the grateful smile that crossed his face, “Joe.”

“Who else would run through those woods in the middle of the night to save your scrawny hide?” Joe smirked back, as he began to work at the ropes tying Candy’s hands together.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get lost,” Candy returned the smirk, but felt the exhaustion pulling at him again. At least he’d soon be able to finally get some sleep.

“I had a map,” Joe paused in his efforts on the ropes to pull out the map he’d used.

“You stole Jagger’s map?” Candy raised an eyebrow. “What would your father say?”

“He’d say–“

“You’re both dead men,” a voice above them boomed.

Slowly, both Joe and Candy looked up to see Jagger shakily standing in front of them, shotgun aimed right at them. A myriad of scratches and gouges covered the man, who glared at the two friends with utter contempt, “Thing is, I can’t decide which one of you to shoot first. Canaday here just tried to get me killed, but if I shoot him first, that might give you enough time to go for your gun.”

“Jagger, has anyone ever told you that you’re a sad, unhappy man that needs a new hobby?” Candy sighed dramatically and could feel the dirty look Joe was giving him about now. Yes, he was trying to get shot. One would think Joe would realize that by now.

Jagger growled and shifted his aim to center on Candy. As he saw the grin settle on the still-partially-bound man’s face, he quickly swung the rifle to aim at Joe, “Although the more I think about it, you’d probably love to watch as your friend there dies while you watch. Besides that, I can’t stand a thief.”

A horrified look crossed Candy’s face, and as soon as he thought about throwing himself in front of Joe, he could already feel his friend take a firm hold of his shoulders to prevent just that.

“You could get him,” he muttered angrily, knowing how quick of a draw Joe was.

“You’re not playing hero tonight,” Joe muttered back, tightening his grip.

Time seemed to slow as Candy heard the trigger cock into place, and as Jagger made a final minute adjustment on his aim. Heart pounding in his chest, he tried once again to shake the firm grip on his shoulders, but between Joe’s determination and his lack of strength, Candy knew it was futile. He was so focused on watching the progress of Jagger’s finger tightening around the trigger, he didn’t see the tall brown form rise behind the hunter until both man and beast fell to the ground in a tackle.

At the same time he felt himself thrown to the ground as Joe used his body to shove them both down, the loud roar of the shotgun signaling that a bullet had just cut through where they had been a moment before. They both lay on the ground for a few seconds, before Candy had the good sense to shove Joe off of him.

He pinned his friend with a scathing glare, “Don’t you ever do that again.”

“You’re welcome,” Joe smiled mischievously and without a pause, began to finish untying his friend. “Ingrate, here I go through all of the trouble to save your measly hide and you try to throw it away.”

“One of these days that selfless Cartwright pride of yours is gonna get you killed,” Candy tossed back.

“Always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory,” Joe chuckled, as he finished freeing Candy’s hands and started to work on his feet. 

Candy used his now free hand to slap Joe’s hands away, “Watch them, I can do this.”

Joe nodded and let Candy finish up while he watched Jagger and the creature tumble further away from him. To Joe’s eyes, it looked like both of their movements were sluggish, almost as if they were using their final strength to try and give that defeating blow to their opponent.

He saw the creature give a final swipe with his clawed hand, and the old hunter lay still. With almost all its effort, it pulled itself away from Jagger’s body and started to try and make its way back towards Candy, but after a few steps it faltered and collapsed to the ground. It heaved in a few more labored breaths, before it too, stilled.

Joe let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and looked back to see if Candy had finished up with his legs. Raising an eyebrow, he watched as the foreman stubbornly picked at the final knot binding his ankles together, “Y’know, this would go a lot faster if you let someone help.”

“No, this is revenge for your stunt earlier.”

“Awful lame revenge if you ask me. And speaking of stunts, I’m starting to believe you like being shot.”

“I could say the same about you… hah!” Candy cried triumphantly as he finally worked the knot free and stretched his legs out, relishing the newfound freedom. 

Joe cocked an eyebrow, “Feeling a bit better now, are we?”

“I’ll feel a whole lot better, once I can get a few hours of sleep. A bedroll never sounded so tempting.”

Joe hauled Candy to his feet, mildly surprised that he didn’t get some form of protest. He took a moment to study his friend more closely. Candy’s face was lined with exhaustion, but he’d lost the fevered look in his eyes. He quickly checked Candy’s forehead again, and found that it was considerably cooler than earlier, “Your fever broke. Looks like Boxer’s diagnosis was wrong.”

“Boxer!” The memory of the ranch hand taking a rather nasty blow to the head rose in Candy’s mind, “He okay?”

“He’s fine, like you, he’s got a hard head,” Joe started walking back towards camp, half-supporting Candy as he did so.

“That’s a relief,” Candy leaned into Joe as he felt his legs wobble slightly. “He wasn’t all wrong though. Jagger said it was a poison… just not a deadly one.”

“Well, then I guess a visit to the doc’s tomorrow isn’t all out of order,” he quickly continued as Candy started to protest. “Ah! I insist.”

Candy muttered unintelligible under his breath.

“What was that?”

“How much further?”

“A few minutes, it won’t kill you,” Joe grinned as Candy gave him a dark look.

“I sure hope this is the right way.”

“Stop worrying, I have a map this time.”

“Aha! So you admit you did get us lost!”

“It’s not too late to put that gag back on you know.”

* * * * *

As Joe finished saddling Cochise, he took a moment to breathe in the fresh morning air, and appreciate the warm touch of the sun on his skin. It had been a long night, and as much as his body had wanted to sleep in that morning, he knew that the sooner the doctor gave Candy and Boxer a clean bill of health, the better he’d feel in the long run.

He and Hanes had also made a trip back to site of the battle between hunter and beast, giving both of them a decent burial. Hanes initially balked at the idea of giving a monster a grave, but Candy forced Joe to make the strange promise before he left. It didn’t make much sense to Joe either, but figured it wouldn’t hurt to indulge his friend a little.

He let his eyes wander over to where Candy was saddling up Dusk, and he could tell that while not nearly as run-down as last night, his friend wasn’t back to his full-strength. Both the foreman and Boxer had insisted they were well enough to ride their mounts. Weighing the arguments in his mind, Joe decided it would just be easier if he rode close to Candy that morning, that way he could keep an eye on the his friend’s progress.

Joe glanced over at the other two men and couldn’t help but smile as he saw Hanes arguing with Boxer over almost the exact same thing. Sometime during the night, it seemed that Hanes had finally gained a little insight into why Joe had insisted on doing whatever possible to help Candy. He shook his head as the larger of the two ranch hands insisted on helping Boxer into the saddle. Joe had a feeling that if Hanes kept up the mother hen act much longer though, he’d soon find himself on the wrong side of a fist.

He turned his attention back to Candy, and as soon as he was sure his friend wasn’t going to fall out of his saddle, Joe vaulted up on this own mount. He turned Cochise to the direction that would lead them back to the Ponderosa, and started the pinto out in a steady trot, knowing the other three would follow his lead.

After they cleared the forest, Joe glanced back at Candy, who didn’t seem to be having any trouble at the moment with their pace or staying in the saddle.

“I saw that Joe,” Candy rolled his eyes. “Maybe you just ought to concentrate on not taking the wrong turn instead of waiting for me to drop out of the saddle.”

Oh, so he wanted to play that way huh? An evil glint entered Joe’s eye as he slowed Cochise enough so he was riding evenly next to Candy, “Well you know what, in a roundabout way, that reminds me.”

“What?” Candy eyed him suspiciously.

“I never got to finish my story last night!”

Candy’s eyes widened in horror, and Joe was sure he heard a groan and a gasp from Hanes and Boxer as well.

“You wouldn’t…”

“And since I was interrupted so many times, I really ought to start over from the beginning.”

“You can’t!” Candy stated fiercely. “You left the story stick back at camp. Can’t finish without the story stick.”

Grinning like a devil, Joe withdrew his precious stick from his pocket, and held it high where everyone could see, “Now let’s see… how’d it go?”

“I hate you Joe,” Candy grumbled as he settled in his saddle for a long ride.

“Ah yes, it was a dark and stormy night…”

THE END