Synopsis: Ben reluctantly leaves 20 year old Adam in charge of his younger brothers and the ranch for the first time. While he’s away, his sons have a few adventures of their own. (Story blends both the old Bonanza and the new Ponderosa shows.)
Rating:   PG
Words:10,050

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Buck’s Adventure

 

 

“Geez, Pa, don’t you trust us?” Little Joe turned quizzically to his father, who obviously was selecting his words very carefully.

 

“No, son, it’s not that.” More hesitation. “It’s just that, well, I’ve never left the three of you alone for more than a day and…”

 

“Pa, I’m old enough to take care of them… and the ranch,” Adam added the last few words quickly, confidently, and truth be told, just a bit too loudly.

 

Heaving a sigh that seemed to start at his toes, Ben raised his eyebrows at his oldest son, who stared at him, eyes unflinching. Ben Cartwright sighed again, not so deeply this time, and shifted his gaze to his middle son, Hoss. Only fifteen, Hoss was taller and broader than both his father and older brother, but had a calm, caring disposition that belied his size. Right now, he was looking at his father expectantly, his eyes wide and bright.

 

Ben felt a slight tug on his sleeve, and looked down at Joseph, his youngest. His ten-year-old son was smaller than most kids his age, but had all the fire and determination of someone much older. Some of that may have been the result of trying to keep up with two older brothers, but Ben felt he had inherited much of it from his passionate mother, who had died not so long.

 

Lastly, he stared at Adam, his oldest. Everyone said this son was most like him. All he could see was his first wife, Liz, when he looked at Adam, and sometimes it was unsettling, almost to the point of being unbearable. He was handsome, intelligent, and sensitive, often too quiet and reserved for his own good.

 

His sons were the most precious part of his life. He would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to any of them. He couldn’t leave them alone, even for just a few days, could he?

 

“I don’t know. With Hop Sing in San Francisco and Carlos not back from Mexico, I really don’t think it’s a good time for me to meet with Mr. Collins. The contract can wait. Maybe in a few weeks, when Carlos is back…” Ben’s voice trailed off, seeing the disappointment in Hoss’ and Joe’s faces, and the barely concealed anger in Adam’s.

 

“In a few weeks someone else will get that contract and you know it.” Seeing his father’s back stiffen at his blunt words, Adam decided to try a different approach. In a softer tone of voice, he repeated Little Joe’s original question, sounding more like he was ten instead of twenty. “Pa, don’t you trust us? Don’t you trust me?”

 

Running his callused hand through his thick hair, Ben closed his eyes. I hope I don’t regret this, he thought to himself, or did he say it out loud? He had his answer because all three sons were grinning from ear to ear.

 

“Okay, okay. I’m glad you’re all so pleased, but don’t think for a minute that you’ll be slacking off while I’m away. All your regular chores, plus mine and Carlos’ need to be done.” He let those words sink in before he added, “And you’ll all be confined to the ranch, understand?” Ben thought his tone left no room for argument, but he was wrong. The three boys cried out at the same moment:

 

“What? That’s no fair!”

 

“Come on, Pa, we’ll be good, honest.”

 

“You’re kidding, right?”

 

Ben raised his hand for quiet, and the three stood there open mouthed but without a sound.

 

“That’s my final word. Any more arguments and the deal is off, agreed?”

 

Three heads bobbed in silent agreement.

 

“Adam, you’re in charge,” he instructed sternly. Adam’s lips curled upward ever so slightly, which made his father shake his head. “And if I hear you took an attitude with your brothers…” Adam’s smile disappeared, replaced with a frown. Ben continued, “Or if I hear that any of you took an attitude with anyone, well, let’s just say it wouldn’t make me happy. Understand?”

 

Oh, they understood all right.

 

 

 

The sun was shining gloriously, just warming the dew stained ground, as Ben mounted Joe’s horse. He was riding Joe’s Paint because Ben’s horse, Buck, had was recovering from a deep gash on his left flank, and Ben didn’t want to take any chances with infection. Ben hadn’t eaten much breakfast, not just because he had burned the eggs and bacon, but because his stomach was churning at the thought of the upcoming trip. Was it nerves or a premonition that made him uneasy? But he had made a promise, and he was a man who kept his promises, so he departed. With a half hearted wave and a “Keep out of trouble!” warning thrown over his shoulder, he pressed his mount into a trot.

 

Ben was barely out of sight when Little Joe pulled off his hat, tossed it in the air, and yelled, “Yippee, no chores!”

 

Hoss was already hurrying toward the barn. “I’ll get the fishing poles.”

 

“Whoa now, wait a minute. Didn’t you hear anything Pa said?” Adam folded his arms across his chest, mimicking a gesture their father so often made. “There’s chores that need to be done, so don’t the two of you go getting any ideas.” Looking at their disbelieving faces, he grinned smugly and added, “And don’t forget, I’m in charge.”

 

“Come on, Adam,” pleaded Joe.

 

Hoss protested also. “Yeah, why ya bein’ so mean? I mean, takin’ off a few hours to catch some fish, well, that’s, that’s…”

 

Joe finished Hoss’ thought, “That’s, ahhh, that’s a chore. Fishing is a chore, ain’t it, Hoss?”

 

Hoss wrinkled his face, not really knowing what to answer, so Joe persisted, “Sure, puttin’ dinner on the table, why that’s an important chore, ain’t that right, Hoss?”

 

“Well, sure,” the middle brother gulped, not wanting to disagree with Little Joe but not quite certain if that was the right answer either.

 

“Listen to me, both of you. Go get your chores done now and then maybe you can go fishing later. And remember, no going off the ranch. I’m responsible for both of you, like it or not, and I don’t want to be chasing you all over Nevada territory. Now go!” Adam issued his edict with a not so gentle push, then turned on his heel to go back into the house.

 

“He’s meaner than an old rattlesnake,” Hoss whispered none too quietly.

 

“Yeah, I don’t think he ever was a kid. Doesn’t even know how to have fun. Work. Work. Work. Read. Read. Read. Boss. Boss. Boss. He’s like an old man,” grumbled Joe, loud enough for his oldest brother to hear. Joe’s resentment rose as he spoke, each word bringing him closer and closer to his boiling point. He was clever enough, however, to then lower his voice.

 

“Hoss, I ain’t gonna listen to him. He’s not our Pa, and if we wanna go fishin’, why can’t we? We’ll get our chores done when we get back. We’re not afraid of him, are we? You’re older than me, so I’m gonna listen to you, and if you wanna go fishin’, I’m goin’ with you!”

 

“Right!” Hoss agreed, not really sure exactly how or when he had decided they were going fishing. Somehow Little Joe had a way of twisting his words and thoughts until Hoss wasn’t sure of anything.

 

They’d better not try anything, Adam muttered to himself. Wouldn’t matter that they knew better, he’d catch it because he was the oldest, the responsible one. He was always cleaning up their messes and it was wearing a little thin. Adam wanted his father to be able to rely on him and trust him with the ranch, but unfortunately that responsibility most always included looking after his brothers. Sure, Hoss was pretty controllable, usually did what he was told, unless of course Little Joe conned him into pulling some stupid prank. He loved his brothers more than anything, but sometimes, just sometimes, he wished he were an only child. Oh well, Hoss’ mother, Inger, used to tell him, “If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.” He still wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but he figured out long ago that wishes seldom came true.

 

 

 

The fish seemed to know that the two youngest Cartwright boys were supposed to be obediently doing their chores instead of goofing off, and somehow avoided the hooks placed in the water.

 

“Dadburnit, those gosh darn fish just ain’t bitin’ today. Might as well a’ stayed and done our chores.” Hoss mumbled.

 

Joe looked at his brother but wisely kept his mouth shut. Hoss had been in a foul mood all morning since disobeying Adam, and not catching any fish was not improving his disposition any. Besides, Joe himself was feeling a bit guilty, knowing Adam had been right but not wanting to admit it. Gee, Adam could ruin the day even when he wasn’t with them.

 

“Listen, Hoss. I got an idea. Let’s go home and do those chores like we’re supposed to, then maybe we can convince Adam to take us to town and get some candy at the Post! I know Pa left money.”

 

“You been out in the sun too long, little brother. Adam is gonna be madder than a wet hen when he sees us. We ain’t even got any fish for dinner to put him in a good mood.” Hoss rose, gathered the fishing equipment, and began to head home. Little Joe ran to keep up with him.

 

 

 

Late that morning Adam had ridden off to the south to the new corral they had begun constructing. He figured he’d better make some headway or there would be hell to pay when Pa arrived home. Would be a lot easier if he had some help, but Lord knows where those brothers were. He had heard their comments about him, and it still smarted. It wasn’t his fault he was the oldest. It wasn’t his fault he was in charge. It wasn’t his fault there wasn’t time for anything but work. Anyhow, he would have let them go fishing after their chores – he might have even gone along with them.

 

Feeling sorry for himself and feeling put out by the unfairness of it all, Adam began to strip some logs, working up a sweat as he did so. Peeling off his blue shirt, he poured some water from his canteen over his head, then continued his job. So engrossed in his thoughts, Adam did not immediately hear the rider approach.

 

The hoof beats were almost upon him when Adam finally looked up. Squinting into the harsh sun, Adam shielded his eyes and stared into the eyes of the lone Indian rider. He was of medium height, but solidly built, with long dark hair and a menacing gaze. Adam slowly put his ax down and nodded slightly to the young man on the horse. The rider swung one leg over and dismounted in one single fluid motion. The two men stood toe to toe, staring, unflinching. The Native American suddenly grasped Adam’s shoulders and wrestled him to the ground. The two tumbled on the grass, rolling several times. Adam got a chokehold on him from behind, which the Indian struggled to break. Seeing it was futile, the Indian wrapped his right leg under Adam’s right leg, pulled, and they both flipped to the side, rolling down a slight embankment, into Adam’s horse, who whinnied in protest. They stopped immediately and stood.

 

“Soaring Eagle,” laughed Adam, happy to see his old friend.

 

“Adam Cartwright,” Soaring Eagle answered, just as happy to see Adam.

 

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” It had been years since they had seen each other. They had been fast friends during their childhood, with Soaring Eagle teaching Adam to hunt and track, and Adam teaching Soaring Eagle to read and write. They had had many an adventure together, some more dangerous than others.

 

“You forget I am the greatest tracker in the West,” bragged Soaring Eagle, and Adam’s smile couldn’t have been wider.

 

“How could I forget? Didn’t you and I track that mountain lion right into her lair? I still have the scars,” Adam recalled.

 

“Ah yes, my friend. But are those the scars from the angry mountain lion or from your father when he discovered you had disobeyed him?” Soaring Eagle nodded knowingly, still smiling.

 

Adam winced at the memory, “From both, I think.”

 

The corral forgotten, the two friends sat in the grass and began to talk of old times. Soaring Eagle was only passing through and would have to leave by dawn’s light, so they tried to make the most of the short time they had together. Adam didn’t have too many friends. His childhood had been too nomadic to form any real attachments; he considered his brothers his best friends. But the two younger Cartwrights often formed an alliance against Adam, whom they believed was usually an extension of their father. Being with Soaring Eagle made him feel younger and carefree. He realized how much he missed being with someone his own age. Sometimes he got tired of being the oldest and wanted to break loose, just a little.

 

“Adam, remember when we would sneak out at night to hunt?” Soaring Eagle’s words shook Adam from his thoughts. They both grinned and said, “Let’s do it again.”

 

As he mounted his horse, Adam’s sense of responsibility overrode his desire to cut loose and have fun. “But wait, my brothers…I have to go home and make sure they’re all right.” He blew out air from between clenched teeth and shook his head at Soaring Eagle. “My Pa’s away,” was his explanation, “and we’re not allowed off the ranch.” His frown and resentment had returned.

 

Soaring Eagle knew Adam better than most. His serious friend was forced to be a man before he was done being a boy, and he could see that Adam was chomping at the bit for a little adventure. With a twinkle in his eye, Soaring Eagle pointed out, “That never stopped you before.”

 

They both chuckled and agreed to meet in the same spot around sunset. Adam rode home, pushing the guilt away and replacing it with nervous anticipation.

 

 

 

Searching the house and barn, Little Joe and Hoss found no sign of their older brother.

 

“Do you think he ran away?” asked Joe, worried.

 

“Nah. We’re talking about Adam, not you. He’s probably off doing some work or something. Or maybe he’s lookin’ for us. Either way, he’s gonna be plenty mad when he gets home.” Hoss spoke from experience. His older brother’s moods were famous.

 

“Yeah,” Little Joe agreed, his conscience tugging at him. “We’d better tend to the barn before he gets home. Maybe he won’t notice we were gone.” His words were hopeful, but his tone was not.

 

After the two boys had mucked out the stalls and straightened out the tack, they heard Adam riding in, pushing his horse a bit too hard. When he saw his brothers, he smiled at them both and said, “I’ll have supper ready in a few minutes. Do me a favor and rub down Beauty for me, will ya?”

 

Hoss and Joe’s jaws dropped in sheer astonishment. They had been conjuring up all kinds of images of Adam’s wrath, and his reaction stunned them both. Everyone knew Adam was a thinker, and maybe he had thought of some devious plan to punish them.

 

“Waddya think he’s up to?” Hoss whispered.

 

Joe shrugged his thin shoulders. “I don’t know, but I sure don’t like it.”

 

Hoss looked hopeful. “Maybe he’s sick or somethin’.”

 

Joe replied, “Oh, that would be just great. Then we’d get stuck doing all the chores.”

 

Supper was a quiet meal, conversation-wise that is. Adam devoured the leftover stew and biscuits, barely looking up or stopping to breathe. This was very unlike him. Usually he was complaining to his father about the two youngest Cartwrights’ table manners, but tonight he was close to being downright rude. Joe barely touched his stew; he couldn’t keep his eyes off his oldest brother. Hoss ate. Hoss always ate, but tonight even he was amazed at Adam’s pace and could barely conceal his confusion.

 

Adam’s chair scraped the floor as he pushed away from the table and stood, clearing his place. His mind raced ahead to the night hunting, and he went to the rifle and started counting out the shells. Hoss looked at Joe, who swallowed hard.

 

“A-Adam, what are you doin’ with the rifle?”

 

Adam looked up at them as if seeing them for the first time that day. A sinking sensation began to creep over him, but he pushed it away. If they left the ranch today to fish, not doing their chores, well then he could use a little blackmail to cover himself for his plans. Not realizing he was staring at them with a dark expression on his face, he was surprised to hear Joe gulp, “Are you gonna shoot us, Adam?”

 

“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous,” he scowled, amazed at his youngest brother’s stupidity. “I’m going hunting.” Both Hoss and Joe opened their mouths to speak, but Adam waved a hand to stop them. “I know, I know, we’re not supposed to hunt at night. But we’ll make a deal. I won’t tell Pa how you disobeyed him and me today, and you won’t tell Pa that I went hunting. Understand?” His brows were knit and his lips were set in a thin line. They nodded yes.

 

“Okay, I’m leaving now. I’ll be back by dawn. Hoss, you’re in charge. Joe, you’d better listen to him, or else.” Adam left the confines of the cabin quickly. He was afraid he’d loose his nerve. If Pa ever found out…but he wouldn’t. He’d be back by dawn and tomorrow they’d all do their chores and maybe even go fishing in the afternoon.

 

 

 

“Well, well, well, big brother’s human after all,” mused Joe. “Hey Hoss, let’s follow him.” He loved an adventure.

 

“No way. Absolutely not. We’re staying put tonight and that’s that. Adam left me in charge and I’m seein’ to it that you behave, understand?” Hoss crossed his arms across his chest, imitating Pa and Adam. It was too much for Little Joe, who closed his eyes tight to shut out the picture. He slapped the side of his head and said dramatically, “Oh no, not you too!” With that, he ran to the barn to take refuge in the hayloft. Two older brothers were sometimes two too many.

 

He must have drifted off to sleep, because he hadn’t heard the buggy pull up to the house. He peered out the barn door and saw that it belonged to the Greene’s, who owned the ranch to the west of them. Hmmm, what do they want? He climbed down the ladder, jumping over the last four rungs, and quietly made his way to the side of the house, where he could remain unseen. There he saw Hoss and Tess Greene talking. Well, actually Tess was doing most of the talking.

 

“Come on, Hoss, don’t be such a stick in the mud,” Tess whined.

 

“Gee Tess, I don’t know. I’m supposed to be keepin’ an eye on Joe.” Hoss was obviously torn about something. Joe shimmied in for a better listen.

 

“Oh Hoss. He’s almost eleven. Think about it, how many chances will you get to see a real monkey? My mother told me that man, Mr. Picco-whatever-is only staying over one night at Emma’s boarding house. After he paid Emma, I hear tell she was fit to be tied when she saw there was this tiny little monkey in his bag.” Tess explained, hoping to tempt Hoss.

 

A monkey? He couldn’t have heard right. Joe stuck his fingers in both ears, trying to clean them out. He shook his head from side to side. Nah.

 

“Tess, I can’t leave Joe and we’re not supposed to leave the ranch.” Hoss stated, but then started to waver. “A real monkey?”

 

“Yeah,” Tess answered. She knew she had won him over. Hoss loved all animals and she was sure he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see a monkey that danced when his owner played a hand held organ. “He’s only this big!” She held up her hands, maybe a foot apart. She smiled up at Hoss and Joe knew Hoss was a goner. He was sweet on Tess, everyone knew that. But no way was Joe going to miss seeing some midget monkey. Besides, he wanted to go to town too.

 

“Oh, hi Tess, Hoss,” Joe’s hands were clasped behind his back as he whistled an innocent tune. “Whatcha doin’?”

 

 

 

When they got to town, the organ grinder, Mr. Piccolo and his monkey, Marcello, were entertaining a group of people. Tess, Hoss and Joe joined the crowd, and soon Tess and Hoss were laughing at the little monkey’s antics. He wore a red hat and a little red and gold vest, but Joe was too short to see over the people. He tugged on Hoss’ shirt, but Hoss just told him to shush and not bother him.

 

Okay, thought Joe. Who wants to see a dumb old monkey anyway. So he began to wander through the crowd. He was awful thirsty from his ride to town and looked around. The saloon came into his sight, and he grinned. Looking around and seeing that no one was paying attention to him, he snuck under the swinging doors, only to find an empty room. There were some tables and chairs, and a long bar with some bottles behind it. Joe wondered what was in the bottles, maybe it would quench his thirst. He removed a cap from a bottle of amber fluid, sniffed it and wrinkled his nose in distaste.

 

“Yuck!” He recapped it and moved on to a wooden keg. Again, he sniffed the spout, but this time it didn’t smell so bad. He opened his mouth below the spigot, turned it slowly, and some yellow, bubbly stuff poured into his mouth. He gagged, swallowing some, then wiped his tongue with his sleeve to get the taste off it. Was that sarsaparilla, he wondered? His friend Mitch said he loved sarsaparilla. Maybe it wouldn’t taste so bad if he tried it again. So he did just that, and surprise, it wasn’t quite as terrible as the first drink.

 

“What the hell are you doin’ back here, kid?” growled Big Dan, picking Joe up easily by the back of his shirt.

 

“I..ah…I was having a drink is all, ” Joe sputtered, recoiling from Big Dan’s breath. Wow, he sure smelled like that first bottle Joe opened. Then he realized the trouble he’d be in from his Pa, Adam and Hoss if they ever found out he was in the saloon drinking! “Hey, Big Dan, you ain’t gonna tell my Pa I was in here, are you?”

 

Closing one eye, Big Dan peered at the boy who was trying hard not to look scared. Couldn’t really blame the kid for being thirsty. Dan was pretty darn thirsty himself, but he had lost what little money he had earlier in a poker game. Wasn’t this kid a Cartwright? Dan’s brain was muddled with whiskey, but not so muddled that he didn’t have a plan to get him back to the business of drinking.

 

“Tell you what, kid, you like firecrackers?”

 

“Sure,” Joe answered, not really knowing where this conversation was going.

 

“I got some here in my pocket. I’ll let you have ‘em.”

 

Still suspicious, still trying to avoid Dan’s breath, and still a bit scared, all Joe wanted to do was escape, but the lure of firecrackers was too great. “Yeah, okay. How come?”

 

Dan held the firecrackers just out of Joe’s reach. “You gotta pay me, boy. For the firecrackers and for keepin’ my mouth shut to your Pa. Whaddya got?”

 

“I don’t have nothin’.” The wheels were turning in Joseph Cartwrights head. “Leastways I don’t have nuthin’ here. I got plenty at home. You know, I keep something real special in the barn, under a checked blanket.” Joe had saved about fourteen cents hidden in the barn and figured that by the time Big Dan recovered it, the firecrackers would be used up and he’d forget about telling his Pa. The plan was foolproof.

 

Big Dan mulled it over for what seemed an eternity. He let Joe down and handed him the firecrackers, knowing that this offer was the best he could do. “Here ya go, boy. But if there ain’t nuthin’ under that there blanket, I’m a gonna tell your Pa and give ya a whippin’ myself, hear?”

 

“Oh yes sir, Mr. Big Dan, sir. I hear you. It’s a deal; what’s under that checkered blanket is yours, and you won’t tell my Pa, or Adam or Hoss either. Let’s shake on it.”

 

 

 

The ride home was boring. Hoss was mad at Joe for wandering away and Tess was mad at Hoss for being mad at Joe. Joe tried to look contrite, but his fingers kept going to the firecrackers in his pocket, and he was hard pressed not to smile.

 

Meanwhile, Adam and Soaring Eagle met up under the milky twilight and quickly picked up the trail of a mountain lion. This time they were smart enough not to follow her into her lair. Adam’s shot killed it, but it was a shallow triumph because of the nagging guilt over leaving his brothers. Soaring Eagle could see his friend’s heart was not in the hunt, so some time after midnight, he declared he needed to be on his way.

 

“Will you be back this way?” Adam asked softly, chastising himself for not really appreciating their short time together.

 

“That I cannot answer. I must go now, back to my people. And you, my brother, must go back to yours.” Soaring Eagle hesitated. Even in the dim moonlight, he could see Adam’s eyes darkening.

 

“Take care of yourself, Soaring Eagle.” Adam wanted to say more, but as usual, the words stuck in his throat. He wished people didn’t have to leave, but that was a stupid wish. Wishes are for little kids with birthday cakes, not for a responsible man of twenty. Besides, wishes don’t come true, remember?

 

“I will be back, my friend. Until then, be safe.”

 

 

 

The next day dawned, a copy of the day before. Adam, Hoss and Joe had all overslept. The sun’s rays streamed through the Cartwright boys’ room, as none of them had remembered to draw the curtains the night before. Adam rose slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced at his brothers, who looked so innocent in their sleep. He smiled ruefully and got dressed, careful not to wake them. Let them have their dreams, he thought.

 

He entered the barn, patting Chub on the nose and rubbing his own face in Beauty’s neck. He looked over the Buck’s stall, but it was empty. How could that be? Adam blinked several times, thinking the horse would somehow magically reappear, but Buck was truly gone. Foolishly, Adam looked in each stall and even behind the hay bales, as if the horse would be hiding. He ran into the yard, panic starting to set in. Why would a thief take just one horse? Calm down, calm down, he told himself. There’s got to be a logical explanation as to why his father’s horse was missing. For a brief moment, Adam closed his eyes and shuddered at what his father’s reaction to yesterday’s events would be. Now, on top of that, Buck was nowhere to be found! Gradually Adam’s natural intelligence and reasoning took over, and the very angry young man shouted the first two words that came to his mind. “Hoss! Joe!”

 

He continued shouting their names through the cabin and into their room. “Hoss, get up!” he yelled, yanking the covers off his large frame. Hoss sat up sleepily, blissfully unaware of the dilemma, and smiled, “Mornin’ Adam.”

 

Adam glowered at him, snatched the covers off Joe, and literally pulled him to a sitting position.

 

“Where the hell is Buck?” he hollered. The dark stubble on Adam’s face could not conceal the pallor of his skin, and he gripped the bedpost to stop his hands from shaking. “Well? Answer me, damn it!”

 

Both boys looked confused. “Waddya mean? Buck’s in the barn.” Hoss responded, staring at Adam as though he’d gone crazy.

 

“Buck’s out making breakfast. Of course he’s in the barn,” scoffed Joe.

 

“Come with me, both of you,” Adam pulled both of them out of bed, grabbed their upper arms, and led them to the barn in their long johns and bare feet. He propelled them to Buck’s stall. His eyebrows were raised almost to his hairline as he said, “Well?”

 

Hoss stroked his chin, thinking hard. “Gee Adam. Buck’s supposed to be in his stall. Maybe he wanted air or somethin’.”

 

That remark pushed Adam over the edge. He exploded, and when he exploded, Joe was sure they could hear him all the way to Boston.

 

‘I KNOW HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE IN HIS STALL! LOOK, THE STALL IS STILL LATCHED SHUT. IF BUCK CAN OPEN THE LATCH, GET OUT OF HIS STALL, TURN AROUND AND LATCH IT SHUT AGAIN, WELL THEN HE’S A HELLUVA LOT BRIGHTER THAN SOME PEOPLE I KNOW!”

 

Taking a few deep breaths, Adam tried to calm down. Yelling wouldn’t help. His heart was pounding, but not as hard as his head. Massaging his throbbing temples, he lowered his voice and asked in a dull monotone, “Did you see anyone last night, hear any noise?”

 

Staring at the ground, Hoss and Joe were uncharacteristically silent. Adam’s suspicions grew.

 

“What exactly did you boys do last night?”

 

“Well, ya see, we went to…” Hoss began in earnest.

 

“We, ah, we went to bed early,” finished Joe.

 

“Oh really?” Adam smiled an almost evil smile. Ignoring Joe, he grasped Hoss by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Is that true, Erik?”

 

Hoss knew he was in trouble now. He spilled his guts about the previous night’s events, well, the events that he knew about, anyway. Joe kept shifting from foot to foot. Adam nodded when Hoss was through, but didn’t say a word. Thump. Thump. Thump. The pounding in his head was deafening. He turned to Little Joe and smiled that evil smile once again.

 

“Okay, okay,” Joe’s conscience won out and he told Adam and Hoss the details of his little adventure, omitting the part about drinking in the saloon. He did own up to the firecrackers, though. As he recalled his words to Big Dan, he looked around for the checkered blanket. He didn’t see it.

 

“Hey, not only is Buck gone, but so is the checkered blanket!” he exclaimed.

 

“Who cares about the blank…Wait a minute. You mean you told Big Dan to take whatever was under that blanket?” Adam blinked. No, it was impossible.

 

“That’s right,” Joe looked at him as if he had two heads. “My fourteen cents was under that blanket – that’s what I was using to pay for the firecrackers.”

 

“Nah, Joe. Your money wasn’t under that blanket. I stuck it on the shelf by your saddle. I covered old Buck with the blanket last night, ya know, figuring he was missing Pa and all,” Hoss explained, not realizing the full meaning of his statement until he actually spoke the words aloud. Joe let out a low whistle.

 

“Buck’s gone. Chores aren’t done. Corral isn’t finished. Pa’s due home tomorrow.” Adam’s voice was resigned. “Boys, we are dead.”

 

 

 

The three Cartwright boys put their heads together. As Hoss put it, “We need a plan.” Suddenly, it didn’t matter whose fault any of it was. They were in trouble, together. The three of them had each contributed to the predicament in some way and now they would have to face the consequences, together.

 

Trying as hard as he could, Hoss, surprisingly, was the first one to come up with an idea. “How ‘bout if we take the other horses and turn them loose, and we could tell Pa they all just ran away or somethin’. Maybe we could say we left the barn door open and …” his voice trailed off, thinking of his father’s reaction to that whopper. They had all learned the importance of latching the stalls and keeping the barn door closed since before they were out of diapers. No, that wouldn’t work.

 

Joe’s face was scrunched in thought. “What if we tell him Buck up and died? You know, dropped dead right here in the stall and we had to bury him out back somewhere?” It was a poor plan at best, but the only one he could come up with.

 

Adam shook his head slowly, wincing at the pain in his head. “You know, for someone who comes up with so many harebrained ideas, I think that was by far your stupidest!” He knew it was up to him, as usual. He was the eldest. Ultimately, it was all his fault; at least that’s how Pa would see it. They only had a day. He drew a deep breath and said, “Look, I’ll just go to Big Dan and explain. I’ll give him those damn firecrackers back…”

 

“Hey, that’s no fair!” Joe started to protest, but seeing Adam’s expression, he grudgingly agreed.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Adam climbed on Beauty and headed to town. Hoss looked at Joe and said, “Better get those chores done so there’s one less thing for Pa to be mad about.”

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Joe headed to the barn and Hoss left to do some work on the new corral. All three boys, even Hoss, had forgotten to eat breakfast, they were so intent in righting some of the things that had gone wrong in just one day.

 

 

 

Riding into town at a full gallop, both Adam and his horse were dusty and sweaty by the time they arrived. He quickly but carefully tied Beauty to a post. Don’t want to lose you too, he thought as he absent-mindedly patted the horse. A few people were milling about, but nowhere could Adam see Big Dan, and he wasn’t a man who was easily overlooked. Figuring the saloon was his best bet, Adam swung through the louvered doors, coming face to face with the owner, Shelby. She too had a headache that morning, the kind you get when you match your customers drink for drink. In fact, she had never even made it upstairs to her bed last night, just crashed in the back room, explaining her disheveled appearance. She knew she looked like hell, but didn’t really care. If people didn’t like the way she looked, well then they could just stay the hell away from her saloon!

 

Always a gentleman, Adam tipped his hat at her and she smiled slightly. If she had felt better, she would have laughed out loud. Men tip their hats to ladies, and she wasn’t no lady.

 

“Well now, here’s somethin’ I don’t see too often, one of Ben Cartwright’s boys in my saloon. What can I do for you, Adam? You don’t wanna drink, do ya?” Shelby had nothing but the utmost respect for Ben Cartwright and his clan, and believe it, there weren’t too many people around here that she felt that way about.

 

“No, ma’am. I was…I’m looking for Big Dan. Do you know where I can find him?”

 

“Hah! Just kick some of these here chairs aside, the old coot’s probably sleeping it off under one of the tables.” She pressed the flat of her hand to her forehead, willing the throbbing to cease. “He’d better wake up soon, this ain’t no boardin’ house!” With that, she spied a big pair of boots in the corner, and they were attached to a very big, very hung over Dan. “Get up!” she began to shout, winced, then lowered her voice as she turned to Adam. “Get him up, will ya? I gotta get ready for this afternoon’s game.”

 

Adam tried to move Big Dan but it was like moving a dead buffalo. “Game?” he cocked his head at Shelby.

 

“Yeah, last night Big Dan here was bragging how he got a new horse or somethin’ and wuz gonna bet him in a poker game. Said he couldn’t loose. ‘Course I don’t know where he got a horse from when he ain’t got a pot to piss in, but hey, it’s good for business.” By now, both she and Adam were trying unsuccessfully to rouse Dan, who began to snort in his sleep. Adam looked helplessly at Shelby, who shrugged and gave Dan a not-so-gentle kick in the butt

 

“Ah…c-can anyone join this poker game?” Adam was annoyed at himself for falling over his words. As a kid, he had sometimes stuttered when he was nervous and he thought he had left that behind in his childhood. Apparently not.

 

Shelby grinned at him conspiratorially and whispered, “Does your Daddy know?”

 

Adam grinned back at her and whispered, “Does he have to?”

 

 

 

Riding hard back to the ranch, Adam shouted for his brothers but was surprised to find only Little Joe, who was diligently finishing up the chores.

 

“See Adam, I done all the chores…”

 

“Did, I did all the chores,” Adam automatically corrected Joe, who automatically stuck his tongue out. Adam let it slide. “Where’s Hoss?’

 

“Working on the new corral, which by the way, was your chore that didn’t get done.”

 

“I’ll ignore that, little brother. Now go get me all the money you’ve got. Hoss’ too.”

 

“Why?” Joe questioned.

 

“Can’t you do what you’re told for once without a million questions? Just go get it!” Adam’s patience was almost gone. He wished his headache was almost gone as well.

 

“Hey, that’s no fair!” Joe started to protest, but seeing Adam’s expression, he grudgingly agreed. “How come you don’t have to get your money too?”

 

.

 

Adam pursed his lips and pointed at his little brother. “You’re right.” Joe stared at him, astonished that Adam would admit Joe was right about anything.

 

“I am?” The boy was impressed with himself. “What’s the money for? Are you gonna buy back old Buck?”

 

“No. We don’t have enough money for that, even if I take the emergency money Pa left. I’m going to win Buck in a poker game at Shelby’s.” Now that he said it out loud, this plan seemed almost as ridiculous as the ones Hoss and Joe had come up with earlier. But he had no choice. It was this or nothing. He’d played poker a few times with Carlos and some hands from the Greene ranch. The game didn’t seem that difficult, especially if you were good at numbers and reading people’s faces. What Adam lacked in gambling experience he more than made up for in mathematical and people skills. He pushed open the door to their room, opened the wooden trunk at the foot of his bed and began rifling through some old newspapers

 

“What are you lookin’ for?” Joe knelt beside him.

 

“A back issue of the Alta California. I remember reading an article about this guy who was a professional poker player. He was real good at arithmetic, knew the odds by counting the cards or something like that. And he always kept his face the same, no one could tell anything by his expression.” Adam explained.

 

“Phew, you’ve got that covered, no problem.” Joe stated emphatically. “Hey, where’s that guy now, the professional poker player?”

 

“Dead. Somebody shot him.”

 

Joe gulped and with a sinking, worried feeling, stared at his eldest brother. Adam was a pain at times, pretty darn bossy, but Joe loved him and didn’t want anything to happen to him. But true to his reputation, Adam’s expression never wavered.

 

Fifteen minutes later, with the $14.74 safely tucked in his breast pocket, Adam climbed on Beauty and headed to town. He traveled slowly this time, taking the opportunity to plan his strategy over and over until he had it down perfectly. He just hoped that the other players weren’t going to use the same tactics.

 

He had never really gambled with money; they’d only used matchsticks when he played before. His Pa frowned on gambling of any sort. Once when Adam was about ten years old, he had bet Soaring Eagle his hunting knife that he could climb to the summit of Paragon Peak faster than his friend. The two boys had taken off, never realizing the danger until they had reached the top – Soaring Eagle had won. The air was colder and thinner at the top and rain began to fall, making the rocks slippery on the climb down. Adam arrived back home well after dark, scraped, bruised and with a dislocated right shoulder, and minus his knife. Pa’s anger was fueled by his worry, and after the painful task of putting his son’s shoulder into place, he administered a tanning that Adam did not soon forget. The lecture that followed the next morning on the evils of gambling was almost as painful as the tanning. Pa believed in earning things through honest work. Gambling was a dangerous pass time that could become addictive and dangerous. Well, Adam hoped this time would turn out differently. He swore to himself he’d never gamble again if he could pull this off and get Buck back.

 

So engrossed in his thoughts, Adam never heard Joe leaving the barn on Chub, heading towards the new corral.

 

Shelby’s saloon was smokey and noisy. The heat hung in the air, and Adam found it almost oppressive. But with a determined swagger, he made his way over to the table in the back where Frenchy was setting up some chairs. The short man peered at Adam from under his hat but didn’t say a word. So Adam tried to look unruffled and asked casually, “Have room for another player?”

 

“Who?” Frenchy had no idea, but as he studied the younger man’s face, he could not keep the surprise out of his tone. “You? But Adam, you know nothing about gambling. And your father…”

 

“Man’s gotta learn some time, right?” Frenchy still looked uncertain, so Adam continued, turning away, “But I guess maybe you’re right. I’ll just take my money home and…”

 

Frenchy’s interest piqued and he pulled out a chair for Adam. “Don’t be so hasty. Of course there is always room for another player. Sit. Sit.” It was obvious to the Frenchman that Adam was a novice at the game, which suited his own interests just fine. They would take the boy’s money and send him on his way, make short work of him, so the experienced men could have their game. They would be doing Ben Cartwright a favor, teaching his young son a lesson. Ah, this afternoon was turning out better than he thought.

 

Soon the chairs at the table were filled – Big Dan, Frenchy, Jack Roberts, Mike Johnson, and of course, Adam. The older men were all amazed to see Cartwright at the table, but wisely said nothing. Like taking candy from a baby, they all thought. No one noticed two faces pressed against the window. Little Joe had filled Hoss in on Adam’s plan, and the two of them were there to see that their big brother didn’t end up like that professional card player.

 

The men anted up, Frenchy dealt and the game began. Adam studied his opponents from behind his cards. Big Dan was already on his second glass of whiskey, which should hinder his game. Frenchy was quick and sometimes careless, which was in Adam’s favor. He didn’t know Johnson too well, had only met him once or twice at the Post, but he was slow-witted and deliberate in his moves. The greatest threat came from Jack Roberts. He was cunning, no other way to describe him, and he was in Shelby’s night after night, playing the game. Adam started to say a little prayer but stopped himself. Can’t pray to win at gambling, that just wouldn’t be right. He placed his cards face down on the table, folded, and took the opportunity to size up the others. He had had lots of practice studying people. Living on the wagon train and numerous boarding houses for most of his early years, Adam learned to read people’s moods quickly. He found that adults usually gave something away, whether it be a slight tic, a barely perceptible nod, whatever. Young Adam had also learned very early to hide his own feelings, from not only the outside world, but often from his own father. Joe was right, he should have no trouble keeping his emotions in check.

 

“Why’d he do that?” whispered Joe to Hoss, who replied confidently, “Don’t worry. Old Adam knows what he’s doing.”

 

The game went on for a while, with Adam losing often enough to make them, he hoped, get over confident. He wished he could say he lost all those games on purpose, but truth was, this game was harder than he thought. Why wouldn’t those butterflies in his stomach fly away? He was down to under five dollars, when Frenchy clapped him on the back and asked if he wanted to quit, no hard feelings. Adam refused. “Let me buy you a drink,” offered Roberts.

 

“I don’t drink, thanks,” Adam said while he picked up some coins to ante up.

 

“Thought Cartwrights didn’t gamble neither,” Jack peered at Adam, trying to make him loose some control, but true to form, Adam never even blinked. He widened his eyes and smiled innocently, “Like I told Frenchy here, ‘bout time I learned, right? In fact, I’d sure appreciate it if my Pa didn’t know anything about this ah…little lesson.”

 

Everyone laughed and nodded, thinking maybe all of the Cartwrights weren’t so pious after all. About time they acted like everyone else and enjoyed some good, no-so-clean fun. The game continued. Finally, the hand Adam held was a good one, and he hoped Big Dan would bet the horse. Lord knows he was low on cash. From under his lashes, he saw Frenchy’s eyes dart to Johnson’s cards, stealing a glance. Frenchy sucked in his lower lip ever so slightly, and Adam knew he could beat both their hands. Big Dan, on the other hand, was licking his lips, his eyes bright and his breathing coming hard. He had something, Adam knew it. French and Johnson folded. Roberts raised the ante. Dan and Adam met the raise. Adam’s eyes turned to Jack, who in turn was studying Adam. Adam knew Jack was studying him, so he allowed himself a small smile, just for Jack’s benefit. He wanted him to think Adam was excited about his hand so the game would be between Dan and Adam.

 

“Why’d Adam smile like that? I thought he wasn’t supposed to show if he had a good hand,” Hoss was baffled by his brother’s show of emotion.

 

Joe noticed it too and spoke both their thoughts aloud, “Maybe that’s why they shot that guy in the newspaper!” Not knowing how to help their brother, they went back to spying.

 

Big Dan was grinning from ear to ear. This was the best hand he had in a long time. He bet it all, and finally said the words Adam wanted to hear. “And here’s my mark for my new horse.” Jack folded, muttering, “Too rich for my blood.” Adam threw in the remainder of his cash, which wasn’t nearly enough. He blanched and looked around at the men, pretending not to know what to do.

 

“Now what?” he asked, his shoulders coming up, eyes wide.

 

Jack sneered a bit, “You either fold or put up something big, boy.” He emphasized that last word and the hair on the back of Adam’s neck stood up. His insides were churning but he was bound and determined not to show it. He willed himself not to falter over his words and said, “I’ll bet Beauty. Here.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper and threw it into the middle of the table.

 

Hoss and Little Joe gaped at each other. They couldn’t believe their ears. Not only was Buck gone, now they might lose Beauty too! Had Adam gone mad?

 

Big Dan laughed loudly and poured himself and Adam a drink. This time, Adam drank it. He knew he needed to keep a clear head, the Roberts’ comment about him being a boy still rankled him. The liquid burned all the way down to his stomach and he held out his glass for another, then another, when he heard Jack’s voice, “Thought the boy don’t drink.”

 

“Guess you’re wrong, Jack. Why don’t you just shut up and play?” Shelby drawled. She had been watching the whole scene play out and was more than curious as to the hand Cartwright held. He must be shaking in his boots, to down three whiskeys so hastily. The saloon was quiet now, as Dan laid his cards on the table. “A flush!” he shouted triumphantly, “Ten’s high!” Joe and Hoss both had tears in their eyes as they watched Big Dan’s hands grab the money and the scraps of paper. They couldn’t bear to watch anymore and slunk down to a sitting position on the ground. Now what were they going to do?

 

Adam shook his head slowly. All the words on gambling from his Pa echoed in his head as he pushed back his hat. He blew out his breath and silently laid his hand on the table. He spoke quietly, “I believe a royal flush beats your flush, isn’t that right, gentlemen?” Shelby let out a whoop. Big Dan dropped into his chair, his mouth agape as Adam gathered his winnings and placed them into his pockets. He stood, drawing himself to his full height, turned to Jack and said, “Guess this boy will just go collect his new horse.” He strode out of the saloon, a little wobbly from the excitement, as well as from the whiskey he was not used to drinking.

 

He made his way to the stable, with Big Dan behind him. Unaware that Adam had won the horse, his brothers were puzzled by Dan’s frown as he followed Adam.

 

“What’s goin’ on now?” Hoss wondered aloud to Joe. “Why’s he followin’ Adam?” Again, the same thought entered both their minds at once, the professional poker player who was killed.

 

“We’ve gotta save Adam!” Joe whispered urgently, “But how?” They had no guns, nothing. They had to protect him; he probably didn’t even realize Big Dan was going to shoot him! Joe’s hands were fidgeting in his pockets, when his fingers wrapped around something that made him smile. “Hoss, I got it! Look!” He opened his hand to reveal a few firecrackers he had somehow forgotten to turn over to Adam. “We’ll light ‘em and throw them into the stable to distract Big Dan and Adam can escape!”

 

“I don’t know, ” Hoss shook his head, but as usual, when he looked at Joe’s determined face, he relented. “Okay, but I’ll light ‘em. Don’t want ya hurtin’ yourself.”

 

So they set their plan into motion. As Adam grabbed Buck’s reins and was leading him from the stable, he stopped to shake hands with Big Dan.

 

“No hard feelings?” Adam slurred just a bit when suddenly a loud pop pop pop pop echoed in the barn. Buck reared at the noise, jerking the unsuspecting Adam’s arm. A searing pain shot through his left shoulder and he let go of the reins. Buck bolted from the building. An equally surprised Dan dodged the slight stampede of the few horses he had not tethered correctly in his haste earlier that day. One of them plowed into Adam, knocking him off his feet and onto a pile of straw where a pitchfork lay. It cut into his injured shoulder, blood seeping through his shirt.

 

“What the …” He never finished his words, as Joe and Hoss rushed in and saw him on the ground bleeding with Big Dan standing close by.

 

“We’re too late!” shouted Joe, as both boys rushed headlong into Big Dan, pounding him into the ground. They then rushed to help their brother. He swatted away their hands and yelled, “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“Savin’ you from Big Dan. He’s gonna kill you!” Joe couldn’t understand why Adam was being so thick headed. They had to get out of there before Dan decided to…but wait, Big Dan looked just as confused as his brother. He stood up, rubbing his backside and looked sideways at the two boys. He reached out a big hand to help Adam up and brushed him off, offering his neckerchief to stem the flow of blood.

 

“Looks like ya dislocated your shoulder there, Adam. Might need a couple ‘a stitches too. Too bad that horse ya won got away from ya, probably halfway to California by now.” Dan scratched his head, still uncertain about what had spooked the horses.

 

Did they hear right? Hoss and Joe wondered. Adam won Buck back?

 

Still scowling, Adam whispered between clenched teeth, “You two had better catch up with good old Buck before he meets Pa on the road somewhere, understand?” His shoulder ached, and his headache had returned. He spied the burnt out firecrackers on the floor and he continued, “Do you know how dangerous it is to throw lit firecrackers into a barn? Have you both lost your minds? Because I know I’m loosing mine.” The fuzzy feeling from the whiskey was gone. All Adam wanted to do was crawl between the sheets, shut his eyes, and wake up sometime when Hoss and Little Joe were grown.

 

“Gee, Adam, we were just trying to save your life!” Joe resented Adam’s attitude. After all, their hearts were in the right place.

 

“From what? The only people that nearly got me killed were my own brothers!” He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and pleaded, “Now please do as I say for once and go find Buck. Get him, bring him home, and then go into the house and DON’T COME OUT!” Adam made his way back to Shelby’s for some medical attention. Big Dan looked at the two boys, shrugged and said, “For a man who just won nearly thirty dollars and a horse, he sure is in a bad mood!”

 

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

 

It was past suppertime when Adam arrived home, dislocated arm in a sling. Awkwardly, he dismounted Beauty and led her into the stall. Thank God both Chub and Buck were in their stalls, peacefully munching some oats. His stomach dropped as he spied Joe’s Paint. Pa was back early! He thought he’d have tonight to dream up some explanation for his arm. Stalling for time, he looked around. The barn looked in good shape, and he had ridden past the new corral and Hoss had done a fine job there as well. Everything looked satisfactory for his father’s homecoming, except of course for his arm. He scratched his head with his good arm and tried to recall what had all started this chain of events. It quickly came back to him – Hoss and Joe. He wondered what story Little Joe had concocted for his father, or had Hoss taken the high road and told the truth?

 

Unsure of what he was walking into, he made his way very slowly to the house. Ben threw open the door and ran to meet him. Hoss and Joe were behind him, violently shaking their heads to keep Adam from spilling the beans.

 

“Son, how are you?” Adam’s guilt deepened with each word. “Joe told me about the snake spooking Beauty. Are you sure you didn’t hurt anything else in the fall?”

 

Adam could not look his father in the eye. “Ah, I-I’m fine, really. I just need to a…get some rest.” Adam thought briefly about telling the truth, but he was afraid his Pa would never trust him again – not that he deserved his trust. Besides, his brothers would be in hot water too and his first priority was always to protect the two of them. He hated all these lies, but they were in so deep that there didn’t seem to be any other way. He rubbed his throbbing temples. “I think I’ll just turn in.”

 

“Good idea.” Ben turned to the two angelic looking boys on the porch. “You all look like you could use some sleep.”

 

“Sure, Pa. G’night.”

 

“Yeah, G’night.”

 

The three boys went to their room without any argument, and Ben stared warily at their retreating backs. Something had happened while he was away, he was sure of it. Little Joe, usually the most vocal of the three, was chattering incessantly, a sure sign of his hiding something. Hoss had only one helping at dinner, which positively confirmed Ben’s suspicions. Adam, well Adam looked like hell. He was normally meticulous with his appearance, but today the stubble on his face was dark, his clothes were dirty and smelled of smoke, and Ben thought he detected the faint odor of whiskey on his breath. Shelby probably gave him some to ease the pain. Yup, something wasn’t quite right here at the Ponderosa, but Ben Cartwright was confident it would all come out eventually.

 

The sun had long set and it was silent in the boys’ bedroom. Tonight, there was no creaking of the mattress as Joe flipped around in his bed. There was no soft snore coming from Hoss’ bunk. There was no rustle of book pages being turned by Adam as he read in the moonlight. The three of them lay there, eyes open, guilt-ridden.

 

“We have to tell him, you know,” whispered Adam, “there’s no way around it.”

 

“But we’ll be in trouble for sure!” protested Joe weakly. He knew Adam was right but was fearful of the consequences.

 

Hoss grunted, threw back the covers and stood. “Come on, let’s get it over with.”

 

Joe hopped down from his upper bunk while Adam used his good arm to push himself out of bed. He turned to his two younger brothers, who stared at him glumly. “Listen, let me do the talking. I’ll tell him it was my fault and maybe you won’t…”

 

Hoss interrupted him. He knew Adam had taken the blame for many things in the past when they all were guilty. “No way, big brother. We’re all in this together, right Joe?”

 

Joe wrinkled his face slightly. “Yeah. The Cartwright brothers always stick together, don’t we?”

 

For the first time that evening, Adam found something to smile about. Joe was right. He was proud to see that they would all face their father’s wrath together. No matter how much they argued and fought, when they needed to, the three of them pulled together. Adam was aware how lucky he was to have two brothers and mentally chastised himself for ever wishing to be an only child.

 

Their bare feet were noiseless as they approached Ben’s room. Adam rapped softly and a quick “Come in” was heard. Ben had been waiting and wasn’t disappointed. Three boys entered his bedroom, clad in their long johns, all looking very young and very guilty. No one said a word. It was hard to suppress a smile, but Ben managed in the dim room.

 

“Yes?” Ben finally broke the silence.

 

“Well, P-pa, you see, ah, while you were away, we-ah, I mean, I ah…” Adam didn’t know where to start. He looked over at Hoss for help, but he was look intently at the floor. Joe, on the other hand, was staring at the ceiling. Adam sighed, swallowed hard, and began again, “You see, Pa, while you were away, B-Buck had a little adventure…”

 

The End