Summary: Ben disowns Little Joe; Adam fights him in town and Hoss ignores him. Now everyone wants to know why. The reason lies in October.  Rating T, WC 41,844

When October Goes

And when October goes, the same old dream appears, and you are in my arms to share the happy years.  I turn my head away to hide the helpless tears.  Oh, how I hate to see October go.  I should be over it, now I know.  It doesn’t matter much how old I grow.  I hate to see October go.  (Song: When October Goes, written by Johnny Mercer)

A not so typical night in Virginia City.

Virginia City was usually a pretty peaceful town, and citizens there could mill about at their leisure without worrying about being accosted almost every day of the week.  However, on both Friday and Saturday nights the atmosphere changed, and the place was filled with partying cowboys with money in their pockets and a thirst for alcohol on their tongues.  There were two main saloons, one on either side of C Street, the calmer and more elegant Silver Dollar, and across the street the Bucket of Blood.  Either establishment could offer entertainment, that being music of some kind and plenty of poker tables where a ranch hand could lose their monthly wages rather quickly.  There were also quite a variety of saloon girls to entice the same cowboys into buying drinks for them or to offer other forms of enjoyment upstairs, especially at the much rowdier Bucket of Blood Saloon.  Sam McBride, the owner and main bartender at the Silver Dollar tried to run a bit more respectable place, and that meant that, though he had hired his share of saloon girls, they weren’t the kind who brought drunken cowboys up the stairs to their quarters.  The same couldn’t be said over at the competing saloon.  Bruno Gilley ran the Bucket of Blood, and he didn’t mind the small percentage he got from the working girls there at his place.  Unlike Sam McBride, he allowed his saloon gals to welcome men up to their rooms if there was money involved with the entertainment that they offered.  So along with that money-making enterprise, Bruno also cut his whiskey with some water which helped to spike up his profits.  The rowdier cowboys didn’t mind as they were usually drunk before they noticed that it took three or more shots of rotgut to get them a bit tipsy instead of only two.  But, with pretty saloon girls and a lot of poker tables to keep them occupied, their minds weren’t on whether Bruno was watering the whiskey or not.

Sheriff Roy Coffee meandered around the town, keeping an eye out for trouble, especially on the weekends when he expected a fight or two to break out.  More times than not, Fridays and Saturdays the jailcells would fill up and he’d be busier than the rest of the week.  As he made his way down the wooden walkway, he spotted the pinto tied up to the hitching post outside of the Bucket of Blood Saloon.  Roy shook his head and sighed to himself.  *** Little Joe, don’t you never go home anymore? *** He’d spotted the youngest of the Cartwright family there at that saloon almost every night for the past two weeks.  It just wasn’t normal, or so Roy thought.  Joe was the youngest son of his best friend, Ben Cartwright, and it just didn’t look respectable for a nineteen-year-old kid to be hanging around that dive so many nights in a row.  Roy had heard his share of rumors in the past two weeks about some trouble going on over at the Ponderosa and it all concerned Little Joe.  It had surprised the sheriff, as in the past, Joe might have been on the hot-tempered side but other than that he was much like his father; courteous and respectable.  Roy had hoped to run into Little Joe and maybe have a chat about his comings and goings and what folks were saying about him.   But the opportunity had yet to arise, and it looked as though the kid was getting to be a permanent fixture there in town and especially at the two saloons.

Hearing the thundering approach of horse’s hooves, Roy shook himself from his internal musing and looked to the east side of C Street where the mounts were coming in fast.  It hadn’t taken more than two seconds to notice the identities of the three riders.

“Ben – Hoss – Adam!” Roy called up to the three Cartwrights as they prepared to dismount next to where the pinto bearing the Ponderosa brand stood.

“Roy,” Ben nodded, and then swung down from his saddle.  His two sons did likewise, and they all approached the sheriff.

“Almost dark, Ben – you three gonna do some celebrating, or is there some other reason that you’re here this late?” Roy asked, though he knew the answer to his question.

Both Adam and Hoss wore glum faces as they neared the lawman.  “We see the kid is at his little home away from home,” Adam grumbled and shook Roy’s outstretched hand.

“Yep – Little Joe’s been having him quite a high old time the last few weeks,” Roy answered.

Hoss cast a look over at his father and read the intensity on his face.  “Can’t say you didn’t warn him, Pa.  He’s just got to the point where he won’t listen to any of us now.”

Ben drew in a deep breath and set his shoulders, readying to confront his son for one final time.  “This is it, Boys.  Joseph either comes home with us now or he just stays here permanently.  Roy, hate to run off on you, but we’ve got to deal with my errant son right now.”

Roy squinted up at his friend’s face and read a lot of things there on it.  He could see exasperation and anger in the dark brown eyes and on Ben’s careworn face.  “You three go on – hope you boys have some luck with the kid.  I’ll see you next time you’re in town, Ben,” He patted his friend’s shoulder in a show of moral support and then watched as the three Cartwrights headed into the saloon.

The slap heard round the world.

The three men walked in through the swinging doors and looked around the crowded room.  The place was both packed and noisy.  There was the sound of music coming from a tinny piano somewhere in the back and the loud conversations of cowhands sitting at numerous poker tables.  Ben’s face formed a scowl when he finally spotted his youngest son sitting at a table in the middle of the room.  There was a saloon girl perched on his son’s lap and she was whispering in Joe’s ear.  Hoss and Adam neared their father and noticed the fact that the man was clenching his fists.  They shook their heads over the sight of their brother and the fact that he had yet to notice any of his family as they made their way to his table.

“Joseph,” Ben growled down at his son.  “I want to talk with you.”

Joe settled the saloon girl over to the other side of his lap as he stared up at the white-haired man.  “Sorry, I’m busy,” Joe smirked and then kissed the girl on the cheek, ignoring the three men who were now circling his table.

“Who are these good-looking men, Joe?” The girl asked smiling up at the three men drawing closer to where the two of them sat in the chair.

“Just some people that I use to know,” Joe muttered and reached for his shot of whiskey.

“You boys want a drink?” The saloon girl asked.

Ben fought back his ire and stared down at the woman and said, “Ma’am, if you wouldn’t mind — we need to talk to your friend there.  Would you kindly get up off his lap?”

“It’s okay, Crystal honey – you go get us another bottle – I’ll be done here in just a minute,” Joe sighed and handed the girl a silver dollar.

“Okay, Joe – I’ll be back soon,” she said and swiped a hand through the curly brown hair as she hopped down from his lap and turned towards the bar.

Ben placed his hands on his hips to control the rage he was feeling inside.  He stared hard at the young man he had raised.  “Joseph, I’ve told you enough times what’s expected of you.   Now are you going to straighten out and fly right or are you going to spend your time drinking and carousing?

Joe stood and squared off with his father.  He wasn’t going to be talked to like a little kid.  He figured he had proven himself to be a man and it was about time his family accepted that fact.

“You want another Adam — or another Hoss – you’ve never accepted that I’m not like either one of these two!” Joe shouted as he pointed to both of his brothers.  “I don’t need you to tell me what to do where to go and who to see.  Now just leave me alone!”

Both Hoss and Adam were just about to jump in and cuff their little brother for the way he had shouted at their pa but before they had the opportunity, Ben took care of the matter.

Ben’s right hand flailed out and backhanded his son across his face.  The slap had been so intense that it could be heard at several of the tables next to where Joe stood.  People all around him stared over at the commotion.

His hand reaching up to touch his face, Joe fought back his desire to haul off and hit his father for what he had done to him.  “That’s the last one that you get!” Joe sneered up at Ben.  “You ever hit me again and I’ll take you down – that’s not a threat—it’s a promise!”

Hoss started over to his little brother wanting to choke him over what he had said but Pa’s hand stopped his progression.  “No, Hoss, leave it alone,” Ben insisted.  He then turned his attention back to Joe.  “I’ve had all that I am going to take from you, Young Man, this is it.  Since you don’t need your family – since you don’t want to act like a Cartwright – well – then consider yourself on your own.  I’m done with you!  Just consider yourself disowned.  I’ll have the papers drawn up tomorrow.”

Joe laughed sarcastically and returned, “Fine by me! I don’t need your damn money and I don’t need any of you!  I never figured myself to be like you – no I’m more like my mother—or so I’ve been told.  Now – get away from me – I’ve got better things to do.”  Joe whistled across the room and Crystal came back over to his table.  “C’mon, Honey, let’s go on up to your room.  I could use some entertainment – it’s getting dull around here.”

“Come on, Sugar – I’ll take care of you!” Crystal smiled and took Joe by the hand.  Carrying a whiskey bottle with them, they turned to go up the stairs where the private quarters for the saloon girls were located.

“Let’s go home, Pa,” Adam whispered sadly.

“I’m sorry about all of this, Pa,” Hoss said and draped an arm around his father’ shoulder trying to comfort him.

Ben drew in a deep breath and gathered himself.  “I’m fine— it’s the way he wants it.  I did the best that I could with that boy – it’s over now. We’ll just have to go on without him.  Let’s go home.”

The three men walked out of the Bucket of Blood Saloon, as people began to talk about the fight that they had just witnessed.  The rumor mill was in full force by the time the three Cartwrights made it to their horses and headed back to the Ponderosa.

All the world’s a stage.

Joe and Crystal made their way up the staircase to the second floor where they spotted a cowboy being led into another saloon girl’s room.  Joe laughed loudly and placed his arm around Crystal’s waist and kissed her cheek as he nodded toward the other man.

“Have a good night!” Joe called to the cowboy who was being led into the room next door.  “I know that I will,” Joe winked as Crystal opened her door.  The other man just nodded Joe’s way and hurried inside.

Crystal took the bottle of whiskey out of Joe’s hand and placed it on top of the table next to the sofa.  “Joe, you just sit down while I slip into something a little more comfortable,” she said with a grin and patted his face.  “Then you can decide what kind of entertainment you want tonight.”

Joe nodded up at Crystal and winked her way.  “How about what we had last night?  I don’t know about you – but I had a good time!”

“I’ll see what I can do.  Be back in just a minute.”

As Crystal disappeared into the next room Joe spread out on the sofa.  He eyed the liquor bottle but decided not to indulge at the present.  Just ten minutes later the girl walked back into the room.

“I hope you like this – it’s new,” Crystal said as she displayed what she had changed into for the evening.

Joe whistled between his teeth and laughed.  “Honey, that’s even better than last night.  Now I hope you’re ready – because I sure am.”

Crystal sat down on the sofa next to her date and pushed him into a seated position.  “Here – penny a point like last night,” she said and pulled the deck of cards out of her heavy quilted robe.

“I’m into you for better than five dollars now.  You do know I’ve been disowned – so money is kind of tight,” Joe returned, fighting a grin.

“Oh yes – I heard.  Boy that was quite a whack your father gave you – I heard it all the way over at the counter!  You’re sure your pa didn’t loosen a tooth?”

“Very funny,” Joe sighed.  “But – it does smart a bit – how about a kiss on the cheek to make it all better?”

“How about I knock you off of this sofa?” Crystal countered.  “Or maybe you’d like to say that to my husband?”

Joe drew himself to a seated position and moved a bit farther away from the girl.  “I’m sorry – I was just kidding around.”

“Joe, look, I know none of this has been easy on you.  Plus, I know it’s hard for someone like you to act like you’re a bit – well deviant.  But once you and I are up in this room by ourselves we’ve got to act professionally.  Now – let’s play cards.”

Joe nodded and replied, “Yes, Ma’am, no need to remind me, Crystal.  I’ve got to joke to take the sting away from what all this acting like a blame fool is doing to me and my family.”

Crystal patted Joe’s shoulder and smiled, “I know – you’re not the usual type we pick for these jobs.  But it was necessary due to the circumstances.”

“I’ve got to run out around ten to get some things set up for tomorrow.  So, let’s play cards to take our minds off all of this, okay?”

Crystal nodded and set the deck down in front of Joe.  “You cut the cards, so you’ll know when I win that I haven’t been cheating.”

“I hope I start winning or I’ll lose my hotel room,” He sighed.

“Oh, you’ll be losing it soon enough, Joe.  Now go ahead and deal – it’s your turn.”

Joe grabbed the cards and shuffled them and then cut them again.  One hand at a time the two of them passed the hours away until Joe was due to rendezvous with his next contact.

Not much of a mustache.

Joe’s residence at the International House Hotel had been ongoing since he had left the Ponderosa more than two weeks ago.  When he wasn’t drinking or spending his time with Crystal in her room at the Bucket of Blood, he was lounging around there at the hotel.  It afforded him privacy and allowed him to come and go as he pleased.  After leaving Crystal a little after ten thirty that night, he made it back into his hotel room and waited for the scheduled meeting time of eleven o’clock.  Joe pulled on his jacket and holster and headed down the back stairs where he wouldn’t be spotted that late at night.

There were two external staircases behind the hotel at either side.  There were also two outhouses, and the rest of the area was barren.  Joe determined that one of the staircases would prove to be a better meeting spot as it was dark with only a small amount of light which streamed in from the lantern out towards the street.  He lit his cigarette and waited.

The whispered voice called his name, “Joseph?”

Joe stepped out from underneath the back stairs and approached the white-haired man.

“Hi, ya, Pa!” Joe smiled as he drew closer to him.  “Nobody saw you, did they?” He asked warily.

“No, Son, I had your brothers take Buck on home and traded out for another mount.  It’s tied up just behind the mercantile.”

“Good job, Pa,” Joe nodded and patted his arm.

Ben took a good look at his son, inspecting him thoroughly.  “Just what is THAT?” Pa asked pointing at what his son held between the index finger and thumb of his left hand.

“It’s part of my new persona – I rolled it myself too, Pa,” Joe sounded off proudly.

“Oh?  You did, huh?  Here let me get a good look at it,” he called to his son and Joe handed it over.

Dropping the cigarette down on the ground, he crushed it under the toe of his right boot. Ben shook his head and pointed his index finger at his son.  “Find another persona, Joseph.  Understand?”

Joe groaned and shook his head.  “Shucks, Pa, I’ve got to look as mean and as tough as I can!  I’m trying to grow a mustache but it’s taking too long,” He complained.

Ben frowned once more and rolled his eyes.  “Oh?  I just thought you had gotten some dirt on your upper lip.”

“Very funny, Pa.”

“Now – you’ve sure been spending a lot of time over at the Bucket of Blood.  And I might add – up in the saloon girl’s quarters.”

“C’mon, Pa, you’ll be happy to know that my honor is still very much intact.  Besides, you do know that her husband is a U.S. Marshall, right?  You don’t think I would be stupid enough to try anything knowing that do you?” Joe quipped.

Ben drew in a deep breath and his face took on a serious appearance.  “I know that I raised you to know right from wrong and you’ve never let me down yet.  Now, let’s get serious, Joseph, you do realize how treacherous this situation is, don’t you?  I don’t want you to get distracted with this role that you’re playing.  I wish that Colonel McMasters hadn’t come to you with this whole scheme.”

Joe reached over and dropped his hand down onto his father’s arm trying to set him at ease.   He could read both apprehension and concern in the man’s eyes.  “Pa, you know that I have to do it for Jennifer – and for her husband Steve.  Neither of them deserved to die the way that they did.  And if one of the ringleaders is who we think it is, well, I’m the best candidate to join up with him.”

“I still think they could’ve found someone else – Joseph – you’re just weeks away from turning twenty.  I think that you’re far too young to do this, it’s such a dangerous game that you’re playing,” Ben voiced his concerns, his face showing the strain of the charade that they were involved in.

Joe drew closer to his father and stared up into his eyes.  “Pa?  I mean who could they get?  Adam?  Nobody would believe old Shakespeare has gone bad.  And then there’s Hoss – for goodness sakes no one would ever buy him turning evil!  But – well – me – that’s another matter.  I’ve got the fiery temper, right?  I’m the one who’s always in some sort of trouble all the time.  And I’m the one who you most likely would have disowned!”

“It’s just not funny, Son,” Ben whispered as his hand sought out his son’s right cheek, tenderly touching it.  He tried to get a good look at where he had back-handed Joe and was appalled to see that a large red streak had formed. “I hate that I had to hit you like that, Joseph.  It looks like you’re going to have a bruise there in the morning.”

Joe reached out for his father, placing a hand on his shoulder to try to alleviate his worry.  “Pa, we all agreed that you had to hit me hard enough to prove that you were mad enough to disown me.  Besides, I’m okay, Pa – really.  If I can’t take a slap then I’m sure not going to make it through what’s up ahead for me in all of this, you know?”

“That’s exactly what worries me,” Ben admitted and pulled his youngest to his chest, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to see each other very often due to the situation.  Closing his eyes he prayed that his son would stay safe and that the whole ordeal would be over soon.

Easing the boy out of his embrace Pa was back to being the stern patriarch. “Now – Young Man, what about all of that liquor you’ve been swilling at the saloon?”

Joe giggled and addressed the situation.  “Pa, if anyone else were to get a taste of what’s in those bottles that Crystal and I use they’d understand why I can hold my liquor so well.  It’s straight tea, Pa.”

Ben stared hard at his son, making sure that the boy was telling him the truth of the matter.

Joe thought he heard someone out on the street, and both he and Pa backed underneath the stairs to be cloaked by the darkness that it afforded them.  It appeared to be just someone walking home late at night, and they never turned towards either of the men who were hiding in the shadows.

“Pa, as much as I’d like to stand here and talk with you – well I can’t be spotted so we’d better say what’s on our minds and then go our separate ways.  Remember if anyone happens to seek you out, unless they use that code word, don’t tell them anything.”

“I understand and I’m surely not going to put you in more jeopardy than you already are, Joseph.”

“Tomorrow – I guess after you disown me legally– then have Adam show up outside the Silver Dollar around one.  You tell him not to pull any of his punches – because I’m not gonna pull mine.”

Ben shook his head feeling very uncomfortable with the next part of the charade.  “Joe – I don’t like it – you two brothers going at it like that!”

“C’mon, Pa – it’s better that it’s the two of us – after all we’ve been at each other’s throats for years and you’ve never let us get it out of our systems.  Besides, if it were Hoss he’d knock me out with one punch!”

“Joseph – I sure hope we can get all of this resolved quickly.  There are folks who think you are – well — spending far too much time in the company of saloon girls.  You know how I feel about that sort of thing and it’s bad for a young man’s reputation, even though you’re not really doing what they assume that you are.  On top of that they all believe that I could just up and disown you like this.  It is a bit much.”

Joe nodded adamantly, “That’s EXACTLY the way we need everyone to believe, Pa.  If it doesn’t look like I’ve gone bad this won’t ever work.  We can’t catch the ones who caused all those deaths unless I look like I’ve hit rock bottom and have nothing else to lose.”

Ben drew in a deep breath and pulled his youngest into his arms for one final time.  “Promise me – promise me that you won’t get hurt.  If things get too out of control, I want you to come home.  Just come home, Joseph – where I can help you – and we’ll work it out.”

Joe allowed his father to hold onto him for another minute. Secretly he admitted to himself that he did need to feel the protection and love that Pa had always offered him freely.  “I promise, and I’ll send word to you when I can.  But I’ve got to go now.  I’ll be careful don’t worry.”

Ben lifted his son’s chin to stare into his eyes one last time.  “You know that I’m going to worry until you’re back home where you belong.  And I’m holding you to that promise, Joseph.  Be extra careful,” he cautioned and finally eased his son from his embrace.

Joe turned back into the darkness. He cast one final glance at his father and nodded over at him.   Then he quietly slipped back up the staircase and walked down the hallway and into his room.

If anyone fights anyone of us, they’ve got to fight with me.

*** Right on time, Brother! *** Joe smiled as he looked out from the swinging doors at the Silver Dollar Saloon.  He polished off his beer and laid his money on top of the bar and then slowly walked outside.

Adam was coming down the sidewalk heading towards the Silver Dollar.  He carried in his hands a satchel and an envelope.  Joe advanced towards his brother finally making eye contact.

“Here you go.  The bag has some of your things that we don’t need at the ranch taking up space.  And just in case you thought that Pa was kidding about disowning you, this envelope has a copy of an order that the attorney just got notarized.  Consider yourself no longer a Cartwright.  Go ahead and pick them up,” Adam said and dropped both the satchel and the envelope down onto the walkway at his feet.

“I just bet you’re loving this, huh, Adam? Yep, now instead of a three-way split when Pa dies it’s just going to be a two-way split.”

“I always told Pa that you were nothing but an ill-tempered spoiled brat at least now he finally believes me.”

Joe drew closer to his brother and his hand went down to his gun.  “You want to finally have a try at me?”

Adam answered by unstrapping his holster.  “I’m not going to shoot you, though I’d like to due to all that you’ve put Pa through and how you’ve disgraced our family.  But, no, if you want to try your luck, I’ll gladly take you with my fists.”

Joe laughed and nodded over at his brother. “Fine by me, I’ve been waiting for this chance for years.  I’d just love to wipe that smart mouthed egotistical grin off your face.”  Joe dropped his holster down onto the walkway.

Adam neared his brother and watched as Joe lunged at him.  He side-stepped the boy and Joe landed on his belly down on the dusty road below.  Joe quickly got to his feet but was met by a right hook that split the skin underneath his left eye.   Blood streamed down his face as he ran toward Adam and head-butted him, causing them both to fall into the street.   When the two brothers hit the ground, their fists flew, and they began to pummel each other’s faces.

A loud shout came from outside of the Silver Dollar Saloon.  “Hey!  Fight out in the street!  It’s Adam and Joe Cartwright!” A cowboy called into the saloon.  Within minutes a crowd had gathered to watch the scuffle going on out in the street.

It wasn’t long before both Cartwrights had numerous facial abrasions as the battle continued.  Joe was able to get one glancing blow to Adam’s right eyebrow causing blood to flow freely down his face.  Getting back up, Adam struck his brother in the stomach and Joe fell backwards just barely missing the horse trough behind him.  Coughing and trying to catch his breath, Joe was finally able to pull himself to standing.  He made another run at his brother which sent Adam careening back onto the ground.  Just before Joe was about to send the toe of his boot into his eldest brother’s side, the loud blast of a gun was heard and both men turned to see Sheriff Coffee and Ben Cartwright hurrying over to them.

“It’s far too early in the day for this sort of horseplay, Boys.  Now the next one of you who tries to land a kick or throw a punch will be spending time in my jail,” Roy warned.

Ben quickly made it over to his eldest son and reached for his arm pulling him up.  “Son, you’re hurt,” he said and untied his neckerchief.  Reaching into the horse trough, Ben soaked the cloth and brought it up to Adam’s eyebrow.  “Here, this should help,” Pa said and dabbed at the wound.

Joe looked over to where his father was helping Adam.  He knew that it all was part of the plan and yet it made him feel sick inside.  Pa had always been there to tend to his wounds when he was hurt, and Joe could only stand there and bleed and watch his father taking care of his brother instead of him.  Joe also felt bad for hitting Adam, even though his brother had gotten in quite a few good licks himself.  Ben didn’t even look over at his youngest son, trying his darndest to stick with the plan.  Soon Crystal came running across the street from the Bucket of Blood and grabbed Joe’s hand.

“Come over to the saloon and I’ll fix you up, Sugar,” she coaxed.

Joe shakily made his way over to where Adam had dropped both the satchel and the envelope from the attorney.  Taking a minute to strap on his holster, Joe then picked them both up.  He slowly made his way over to where Ben stood.  He looked up at Pa and sneered at him.

“I told you I didn’t want your damn money,” Joe shouted and tore the envelope into pieces and then tossed it into his father’s face.  Laughing loudly, he turned and headed over to the Bucket of Blood with Crystal at his side.

Onlookers couldn’t believe what they had just seen.  Not only had both Joe and Adam Cartwright had a knockout drag out fight in the street but Joe had insulted his father and simply walked away.  Now it would spread far and wide that there was indeed a deep rift in the Cartwright family.

Roy Coffee could’ve been knocked over by a feather after what he had just witnessed.  Never in his life would he ever think that he’d see the Cartwright family in shambles.  He had seen both Adam and Joe landing punches at each other there in the street and couldn’t help noticing the way that Ben had ignored the fact that his youngest son was standing there bleeding after the melee was over.  And on top of all of that was seeing Little Joe tossing those pieces of paper right into his father’s face.  He fought to find something to say.

“Ben –,” Roy began, wondering just what he could do to help ease the tense situation.  “Would it help if I was to go and try and talk to Little Joe?”

Ben walked over and retrieved Adam’s gun and holster and handed them over to him before replying to the sheriff.  In all honesty he was concerned over how much damage his youngest had taken to his body at the time, though he didn’t dare show it on his face.  Forcing an angered countenance he stared over at Roy.

“I disowned Joseph two hours ago, Roy.  The boy is on his own and God help Virginia City if he stays here.  I appreciate your offer, but he’s no longer my problem.  We’ll see you later, I’m going to get Adam home and tended,” Ben replied and put his arm over his son’s shoulder as they turned down the street to get their horses.

Not the typical hurt comfort scene.

Crystal brought Joe straight up to her quarters avoiding the stares from the patrons as the two of them passed by drunken cowhands.  Joe, tossing the satchel onto the floor, made his way over to the sofa and sank down onto the cushions while his friend walked into the other room.

“Here,” Crystal called and handed Joe a towel soaked in water for his face.

Joe nodded his head, “Thanks,” He whispered and dabbed at the cut underneath his left eye.

Crystal sat down next to Joe and carefully eyed him.  She could tell that he was hurting and not just due to the beating he had taken.  Crystal smiled knowingly.  She was a good five years older than the nineteen- year- old next to her and knew what he was thinking and feeling.

“Your Pa did a pretty good job of ignoring you, didn’t he?”

Joe sighed and shook his head again.  “Yeah, Pa is a pretty good actor when he wants to be,” He confessed, trying not to show how he was feeling inside.

Crystal placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder and replied, “Too bad this whiskey is only tea, or I’d give you some to ease the pain.  Something tells me you’re hurting and not just due to what your brother did to you.”

“No – I’m fine,” Joe argued, but his face showed that he wasn’t being totally honest at the time.

“Oh?  It didn’t bother you that your father just walked away and ignored you?”

“He knew what he had to do – just like I did,” Joe responded and looked down at the floor.

Crystal tried to get her friend to look into her eyes and he finally relented.  “Joe, I’ve had to play this kind of a game a lot of times now, and I know it can hurt when you’ve got to pretend that you don’t care about your family or friends.  If you need to get it out of your system you can always talk to me, okay?”

Joe smiled and nodded at the girl.  “Yeah, I know – thanks.  Maybe I’m just a bit annoyed with myself for not doing better against my brother than I did.  He got me pretty good; I wasn’t expecting that outcome!”

“Well, I noticed he had a pretty good cut there above his eye – so you did okay.  Now, how about going back there and cleaning up a bit?” She pointed to the back room.  “Then we’ve got to talk about the next move you’ve got to make.”

Joe stood and grabbed the cloth from the table and pressed it underneath his eye.  “I’ll be right back,” he said and walked into the next room to both clean up and gain his composure.

Brandy and regret.

Hoss watched from the open front door as both his father and brother rode up to the ranch house and tied their mounts to the hitching post.  He hadn’t missed the looks on both men’s faces.  They looked very glum as they approached him.  Stepping aside, Hoss allowed both men to enter the house and remove their hats and holsters before asking any questions.

“You okay, Adam?”

Adam frowned as he moved over to the fireplace, turning his back on his brother.  “Yeah,” He muttered.

Hoss watched his father moving over to his study without addressing anything that had happened in town.  Ben lifted the brandy decanter and only then spoke to his middle son.

“I believe the two of us are going to have a drink, how about you, Hoss?”

“Sure, Pa,” Hoss nodded and drew closer to assist his father.  He handed Pa the brandy glasses and observed how much was poured into each one.  It was very evident that Ben needed a drink to settle his nerves and that he thought Adam could use the same tonic to assist his.

Hoss took the two glasses in his hands and brought them over to the settee where Adam was seated.

“Thanks,” Adam nodded up to his brother and sipped the drink.

Ben crossed the room and groaned when he lit down into the red leather chair across from his two sons.

“So?  Did it go worse than you two thought that it would or better?” Hoss asked, staring first at his father and then at his brother.  It became painfully clear that neither of them wanted to talk about the fight.

Adam touched the bruises on his face and took another sip of his brandy, leaving it up to his father to answer his brother’s questions.

Ben sighed and cast a glance over at both of his sons.  “I guess it went as well as something like that could, Hoss.  You know I never liked the whole idea of your brothers doing battle there in town, but it drew a crowd.  I know that’s the outcome that was needed.”

“You don’t look too bad, Adam –well other than the cut above your eyebrow.  How bad is Little Joe?”

Shaking his head and fighting back the guilt he was feeling at the time Adam answered, “I tried not to hurt him too bad, Hoss.  But things got a little out of hand.  Joe’s face looks worse than mine right now.  I’m pretty sure we’ll both be sore tomorrow.”

Hoss stared back over at his father again and watched the sadness spreading across his careworn face.  “Pa – I know it had to be hard on all of you.  Don’t worry about Joe – he’s tough.”

“I had to ignore the boy, Son, it was a hard thing to do – no matter the circumstances.”

Adam read the worry in his father’s tone of voice and tried to think of something that would calm him.

“Well, the kid threw those disownment papers in your face, Pa.  He seemed like he was okay when he did that.  It was a “Joe” thing to do, you know?  Maybe he’s a better actor than the rest of us?”

Ben shook his head and replied, “I know he did, but it was only then that I noticed that gash under his eye.  Looks like you came out on top in the fight, Adam.”

Adam smiled knowingly at his father.  “Joe told you that he didn’t want me to pull any punches, remember?”

“I know – but I don’t think that Joseph was counting on you listening to his request.”

“C’mon, Pa, I could’ve mopped the street with the kid if I’d wanted to.  I gave him a few good licks, but the rest of the time I went easy on him,” Adam insisted.

Nodding over at his eldest Ben fought to pull a smile out of is gut.  He didn’t want to make Adam feel any worse than he did at the time.  “I know if you had wanted to the boy would have ended up in far rougher shape.  It’s just that –well –,” Pa trailed off.

“Oh, I know why this has gotten to you, Pa!  I bet it’s because you couldn’t run to the kid and fuss over him like you always do,” Adam laughed.  He knew how his father always worried about his youngest son.

“Okay,” Ben paused and took a long sip of his brandy before continuing.  “I admit that it was hard to ignore the blood coming down Joe’s face and just stand there tending to you, Adam.  But I also know that if I had said or done anything to help him that the whole fight would’ve been done in vain.  I just hate this whole charade!”

Hoss had listened to the banter between his father and brother and decided to try to help lighten the gloominess which had fallen over the room.  He stood and walked over to a table in the far side of the room just past his father’s study.

“Hey, Pa – look here!” Hoss sounded out cheerily as he walked back over towards the fireplace carrying a saddle in his hands.  “This got delivered by Jake Thompson earlier today.  Ain’t it grand?”

Ben stood from his chair as his son set the saddle down onto the coffee table.  He patted Hoss’ shoulder, thankful that his son had chosen to change the current topic of discussion.

“Oh, Joseph is going to be surprised!”  Ben exclaimed as he ran his right hand down the side of the saddle.  “Jake sure put his heart into this.  It’s grander than I asked for.”

Adam smiled as he also touched at the wonderfully crafted saddle.  “Joe will be happy when he gets a look at this, Pa.  He’s been hinting about a new saddle, but he won’t be expecting a one of a kind like this.”

“Well, at least we won’t have to worry about him finding it before his birthday this year.  I only pray that this whole miserable mess is over by the end of the month,” Ben said, and his thoughts were once more on all that had happened lately.

“We have better than two weeks to get it all straightened out, Pa – I’m sure that by Joe’s birthday he’ll be back home where he belongs,” Hoss replied.

Ben leaned down and touched the saddle again, this time lifting the left stirrup.  Joe’s initials were there, carved just as Pa had requested when placing the order more than a month ago.  “Lord willing this family will be back happy and intact again just in time for Joseph to have a very special twentieth birthday,” He whispered and closed his eyes saying a silent prayer that his hopes would be realized.  He missed his youngest son, the kid who might be a bit on the rambunctious side, but was so full of life, love, and laughter.

I’m going to Hell for this.

Joe had gone over plans with Crystal after he’d gotten cleaned from his fight with Adam.  Afterwards, he had gone back down to the bar and had a shot of whiskey which had come out of a real bottle of rotgut.  Joe wouldn’t have admitted it to his cohort, but his nerves were a bit frayed after all that he’d gone through in the past two days.  He paid for his drink and then headed his way over to the International House Hotel.  Unfortunately, Joe ran into the local minister of the church that the Cartwrights all attended.

“Joe – I’ve been hoping to run into you,” Reverend Philip Hastings called to the young man, stopping him in his tracks.

Joe drew in a deep breath and tried to figure out just how he would be able to get through the conversation.  He wasn’t thrilled about lying to a preacher.  “Hi, Reverend.”

“Do you have a minute to come over to the church and have a little chat?”

Joe looked down at the walkway and put on an angry façade.  “I don’t need any Bible thumping if that’s what you’ve got planned.”

Reverend Hastings stared hard at Joe, finding it hard to believe all of what he had been told of late concerning the young man he’d known for several years.

“I wasn’t going to thump a Bible – just wanted to see if I could help you, Joe.  I’m very concerned about you.  I’ve been hearing some terrible rumors – and I don’t believe that they can possibly be true – and all concerning you.”

Joe laughed sarcastically and broke into a smile.  “Oh, they’re probably all true!  I mean – if it’s concerning the fact that I’ve been drinking and carousing and that I’ve been disowned by my pa.”

“Joe – you can’t possibly have gone bad the way everyone says that you have.  Isn’t there something I can do for you?  I could go and have a talk with your father?”

Setting the satchel down onto the walkway, Joe reached inside his green jacket and pulled out one of his hand-rolled cigarettes along with a match.  He struck the match against the back of his holster and lit his cigarette.  Inhaling deeply, he then sent the smoke out towards the preacher.  “Didn’t you hear me, Rev?  I said that I don’t have a father.  And I ain’t got time for a sermon neither.  Why don’t you go find some other lost little lamb?  I feel just fine concerning my life right now.  I don’t need anyone, and I sure don’t need any preaching.”

Reverend Hastings shook his head totally despondent over the way Joe Cartwright had changed from the thoughtful and kindhearted young man he had known.  He fought to find the right words to say that would help the situation.  “I’ll pray that you find your way, Joseph.”

Joe laughed again and replied, “Don’t waste your time or your prayers.  See you, Rev, go save somebody’s soul who wants to be saved.  I’m enjoying my life!”

As the Reverend walked away stunned, Joe crossed the street feeling terrible inside.  ***I think I’m going to Hell for doing that! *** Joe thought to himself as he walked inside the hotel.

The desk manager spotted Joe as he came in the door and began to head up the staircase.

“Joe – Joe Cartwright!” The man called across the room.

Turning around Joe cast a glance at the other man and returned, “What do you want?”

“I need to have a word with you please – over here.”

Joe groaned and set the satchel down and then made his way over to where the day manager of the hotel, Frank Williams, stood flanking the desk clerk.

“Yeah?  What do you want?” Joe asked frowning.

“I’ll handle this, Bill, you go and add up today’s receipts,” Mister Williams said and watched as the desk clerk walked to the end of the counter.

“Okay, what do you want?” Joe faced the manager and drew out another one of his cigarettes, lighting it on the top of the counter just inches away from the man’s hand.

“It’s come to my attention that we’ll no longer be billing your room to Ben Cartwright’s account.  I’ve been told he’s settled everything you owed up to last week, but he’s refused any more responsibility concerning you.  That means you owe three days now.  Do you want to pay for those days now or at the end of the week?”

“Sounds like something low like he’d do, the old skinflint.  I’ll have your money just give me a couple of days,” Joe sounded out angrily.

“So – then we’ll be expecting it by Tuesday?”

“Sure – Tuesday.  Now I’m tired so leave me alone,” Joe announced curtly and turned abruptly and walked back to the staircase.

Mister Williams stood at the front desk and just shook his head.  If he hadn’t seen it for himself, he would never have believed that Joe Cartwright had gone bad, but it was very apparent that he had.

As close to a Pa/Joe scene as Joe would get.

Joe washed his face in the basin in his hotel room and eased over to the bed.  His body was beginning to ache from the fight he’d had with his brother, and he decided to go and just lay down.  Joe stretched out on top of the comforter and closed his eyes.  He wished he was home.  He wished that he didn’t have to act like a thoughtless out of control vagabond with absolutely no morals.  Joe just wanted to go back to the Ponderosa and forget about the last two weeks and the terrible charade he had been playing.  He missed his family and his former life.  But the memory of Jennifer began to play in his mind.  He would always love her.  It didn’t matter that she had married Steve Harding. It didn’t matter that she had broken his heart years ago.  It didn’t even matter that she was now dead and buried.  Every single move that he had made in the past two weeks was due to her.  Joe knew that he couldn’t ever bring her back, no more than he could make her love him years ago when they were both fifteen.  But he would prove his love by finding her killers.  Yes, in doing so he’d also find the ones who had killed her husband and a lot of other innocent folks too.  It had been one of the main reasons why, when Colonel McMasters had come to the Ponderosa and proffered the idea, he had agreed without even asking for his father’s opinion or approval.  It hadn’t gone down well with Pa either.  He rarely had seen his father that mad, but he knew that the anger had come due to his fears of what might happen to his youngest son.  But he had convinced him, along with the Colonel, that it was something that he just had to do to finally lay Jennifer to rest in his mind and heart.  The plan had been laid out step by step and some of the participants were named, however, some had to be kept secret to protect their identities.  Joe was introduced to Crystal Page, not her real name, but one that she would be using for this setup, and he was told that almost everything he would be doing to find the perpetrators would be fielded through her and her contacts.  And so, almost two and a half weeks ago Joe had moved into the International House Hotel and taken up a life of nothing but indulgences that went against everything that the Cartwrights had stood for.

Joe sat up in the bed and looked over at the mantle clock.  He was supposed to meet back up with Crystal around ten that night and that meant that he had several hours to kill.  Frowning, he stood from the bed and walked across the room over to where he had dropped the satchel that his brother Adam had thrown down at his feet right before the brawl.

*** I wonder what Shakespeare put in here. *** Joe thought as he knelt and opened the bag.   Pulling out a couple shirts and a pair of pants Joe frowned.  He had thought that there just might be something a bit more interesting like one of his brother’s novels that he was always reading.  Joe tossed the clothes across the room and then spied an envelope stuck to the very bottom of the satchel.  He brought it up into his hands and took it to the bed and sat down.  Joe ripped it open.  It was from Pa.  Joe cast a knowing smile as he read the contents.

*** Joseph, I know that you’ll have to tear this up or burn it after you read it.  Forgive me that I can’t go this long without having my say.  You know that I’m not happy that you’ve chosen to go through with this.  But I do know how much you loved Jennifer, so in a way, I do understand.  Or let’s just say as a man that I understand, but not as your father.  I’m scared for you and what might be waiting down the road for you if this goes the way that it’s been arranged.  I know that I raised you to think fast on your feet, Son, but it only takes one moment’s hesitation to get hurt.  If you feel that you’re in over your head don’t be too proud to admit it.  There are others who can do this type of thing that you’re not accustomed to doing.  I’m writing this as I sit in your bedroom.  It already seems so empty without you here even though it’s only been two weeks.  I need you; I need you here with me.  Please honor your promise and try your very best to come home to me unharmed.  I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t proud of you, though I wish that you hadn’t felt like you had to do this.  Be safe, Joseph.  I love you very much, Pa.  PS:  I never REALLY took you out of my will.  But nobody needs to know that! ***

Joe read the letter several times and sighed.  He hated like hell to have to burn it, but he knew that he’d have to in order to prevent the truth from leaking out.  Walking to the fireplace Joe struck the match.  ***Thanks, Pa, I love you and I miss you too. *** He whispered and then burnt the letter.

The October story and Joe’s bad hair day.

Crystal handed Joe a cup of coffee and sat down next to him on the sofa.  They had gone over the next few details and what he’d have to do.  She could tell that the young man was trying his best to listen to all the information, but he seemed a bit distracted.

“Joe?  Is it about the fight?” She asked and patted his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“Come on, I’ve known you now for a good three weeks, and I think I’m a pretty good judge of character by now.  I know what type of a person you are and you’re easy to read when something’s on your mind.”

Joe sighed and shook his head, “Am I really that transparent?”

Laughing, Crystal nodded her head and answered, “Like a freshly washed windowpane!”

“Okay – okay.  It’s not about the fight — but well – I’d be lying if I said that I don’t miss my family.  But it’s not just that –,” Joe trailed off and his eyes filled with a wistful gaze.

“Tell me about Jennifer, Joe.  I only know that she’s one of the main reasons you agreed to take this assignment.”

Joe drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly his thoughts going back to his first love.  “I was fifteen when she first came into my life,” Joe paused and took a sip of his coffee.  He wished that he had some good old rotgut to get his story out, but he had been warned by Crystal that he had to keep his wits about him.  “Anyway – one day she suddenly appeared there at the school.  She had just moved to Virginia City with her folks.  I took one look at her, and it was love at first sight.”

“She was that pretty, huh?”

Joe nodded, “Yes, but it was more than that, you know?  There was just something about her – the way she moved – the way she talked.  I can’t explain it.  I know the other boys admired her looks but I just loved everything that was Jennifer.”

“So how did you two start – I mean did you just begin to date right away?” Crystal continued to pry, hoping that it would help for Joe to talk about it.

“One day – about a week after she started school, I finally got up the nerve to ask her if I could walk her home and she let me.  I felt so nervous – I’d never been like that before, you know?”

Crystal laughed and patted Joe’s arm.  “It’s hard for me to picture a shy Joe Cartwright!”

Joe nodded, “Yeah – but I was – with her.  She was just special – and I didn’t want to scare her off.  Finally, I broke the silence which had fallen over the two of us.”

Closing his eyes, Joe could still hear the girl’s words and what he had first said to her that day on their walk to her house.

*** “So – you came from back East?” Joe asked getting up his nerve.

“Yes, we’re from New Hampshire,” Jennifer replied.

“Guess it feels a whole lot different here, huh?”

Jennifer nodded and stared over at Little Joe.  “The climate is a bit different and the scenery, but people are about the same, Joe.  Have you always lived here?”

“Yep — I mean yes – I was born on the Ponderosa – that’s our ranch.  I live there with my pa and my brothers.  Oh – I guess I already told you that,” Joe sighed when he realized he had repeated what he had told the girl earlier.

“That’s okay,” Jennifer smiled.

“Hey—um – what’s your favorite color?”

“Green.”

Joe grinned, “Mine too!  Hey, we’ve got that in common.  When’s your birthday – mine’s in October.”

“I’m October too,” Jennifer said and then touched Joe’s arm.

Joe felt like he was on top of the world the minute that the girl had just touched his arm.  “You’re October, huh?” Joe laughed.  “I think that’s what I’m gonna call you – October!”

Jennifer nodded over to the boy and reached for her books.  “You can call me October, Little Joe.  It can be just between us, okay?  Don’t tell anyone else.”

“Oh, I won’t!” Joe replied exuberantly.  “Listen – would it be okay if I walked you home tomorrow too?”

Jennifer burst out laughing.  “Silly, tomorrow is Saturday!”

Joe closed his eyes realizing that he was beginning to show the girl how eager he was to spend more time with her.  “So, I’ll just go and open that old school up and you can teach class and then I’ll walk you home!”

“You can walk me home on Monday, Little Joe.  I’ll see you in school.”

“I’ll be there – see you!”  Joe called over to her as she walked to her front door. ***

“So now I finally understand why the Colonel allowed you to choose the code word.  It was your pet name for Jennifer, huh?”

Joe nodded, “Yeah, I called her that— well up until she met Steve that is.”

“How did that happen—if you don’t mind telling me?”

Joe drew another deep breath and fought with the painful memory.  “I had already told Jennifer within a month of us meeting that I was in love with her.  I told her that once I was old enough that I was going to ask her to marry me.”

“Did she say she loved you too, Joe?”

Joe shrugged his shoulders and answered, “Well, not in so many words.  She just kept on saying that we were too young to think about marriage and that maybe someday we could talk about stuff like that.  We went places together – you know to church socials and dances and all.  Right before our birthdays—oh it turned out we were both born on October thirty-first by the way – anyway we got another new classmate.  His name was Steve Harding, and you know the way I fell in love with Jennifer the minute I saw her?”

“Yes?”

“Well, it turned out that the minute Jennifer saw Steve she fell for him just as hard as I had fallen for her.  Within a week the two of them were inseparable.  I hated him for taking her from me – I even fought with him there in the school yard.  But when Jennifer came running out and saw us going at it she begged me to stop – and I just couldn’t hurt her – so I stopped fighting.  They were married a few days after they graduated from school.”

Crystal placed her hand onto Joe’s arm and sympathetically smiled over at him.  “A person never quite forgets their first love, Joe, do they?”

Joe shook his head, “I didn’t, that’s for sure.  To tell you the truth I never stopped loving her – that’s why I’ve got to find whoever is involved in her death.”

“Joe – listen — I can understand how you feel about Jennifer, but I hope you’re also doing this for her husband and all of those innocent settlers who have been killed due to whoever is getting those rifles to the renegades.”

Joe nodded insistently and replied, “I am — though I started this whole thing because of Jennifer – now I’m in this for everyone who’s been hurt or killed by those rifles, honest.”

Before Crystal could respond a loud knock sounded on the door.  They both looked at each other surprised.

“Who is it?” Joe called as he crossed the floor.

“It’s Bruno, I’ve come to collect – tell Crystal I want to see her!” The saloon owner yelled from outside the door.

“Just a minute!” Joe replied and moved back to the sofa.  “What do we do now?”

“Well, you’ve been my only “patron”, Joe, and he’s going to want to get paid.  Hold on do you have any money on you?”

Joe shook his head, “No, you’ve about cleaned me out with your poker playing ability.”

Crystal stood and hurried into the back room and retrieved some of her spending money for the assignment.  She brought it to Joe and said, “You have to give this to him, Joe.”

Joe started to move back to the door, but Crystal stopped him.

“For goodness sakes!” She exclaimed.  “Pull your shirt out of your pants and undo the buttons.  And here!” Crystal ran her hands through Joe’s hair, tousling it to make it look wild so it would give the appearance that he’d been in bed prior to the knock on the door.

Joe untucked his shirt and loosened the buttons, finally throwing it open as he slowly pulled the door inward about a foot.  He peered out to where Bruno stood.

“Sorry to disturb you but Crystal was supposed to pay me yesterday, but she forgot.  And since you’ve been her only caller, Joe—well – I figured I’d better get my cut before you ain’t got any money left.  I heard about your pa disowning you.”

“Just take this and shut up, will you?” Joe said angrily and shoved the money into Bruno’s hand.  “Now stop bothering us!” Joe insisted and then slammed the door.

Crystal waited until they heard Bruno’s boots walking away and then she broke into laughter.  “You look so funny, Joe!”

Joe groaned and then began to button his shirt, he imagined he did look a bit unkept at that.  “You just had to mess my hair up, didn’t you?” He grinned.  “I look rough enough without my curls all standing up on my head.”

“It’s time you got back to the hotel anyway.  Now remember what you have to do at the Silver Dollar tomorrow night, Joe.”

“Great — I only get about twenty-four hours until I get beat up again!” Joe called over as he approached the door.  “Hey— Crystal—thanks – you know – for listening.”

Crystal smiled over at the young man and nodded, “Anytime you need to talk, Joe.  Now go get some sleep you’re going to need it.  I’ll try to see you before your event at the saloon tomorrow night.”

“Goodnight,” Joe said and turned out of the room.  He placed his hat over his head to hide his unkept hair.  Shaking his head he fought back a smile over the way Bruno had looked at him.  It had been priceless.

Pa’s version of the October story.

The next afternoon found Ben trying his very best to put all thought of what was going on in town out of his mind, but he found himself to be failing miserably.  He had worked on contracts for a lucrative mining venture and then attempted to get his ledger books in order.  Realizing that he wasn’t getting anywhere with either of the two tasks, Ben groaned to himself and stuffed the papers inside of his desk.  He knew that Hoss would be coming home from tending the herd soon in order to get his instructions for the role he would be playing in Virginia City later that evening.  Eying the brandy decanter Ben fought with his desire to indulge in a drink to settle his nerves.  The memory of Joe at fifteen years old crept back into the forefront of his mind.  He remembered how devastated his son had been once Jennifer had confessed that she only had eyes for Steve Harding.  Pa closed his eyes and could still see his youngest sitting there inside of the barn.

“Joseph?” Ben called as he entered the barn and looked around for the boy.  “Where are you?”

“Go away, Pa – I don’t feel like talking,” Joe called from the top of the hayloft.  His voice seemed both raspy and shaky.

Moving to the ladder Pa slowly made his way up to where his youngest sat against a bag of grain.  He hadn’t missed the bottle which Joe had attempted to hide behind his back.

Ben shook his head and held out his right hand.  “Give it here, Joe, you know what I’ve told you about drinking.”

Joe refused to adhere to his father’s demand and replied with defiance in his tone, “I said I don’t want to talk, Pa.  And I ain’t turning over the whiskey neither.”

Reaching behind his son’s back Pa drew the bottle up into his hands and sighed.  “Now, I understand you’re upset, Son, but firing off at me and sitting up here in the loft isn’t going to help anything.  And you know if you drink any more of this stuff, you’ll be behind the barn bent over and throwing up soon – and that’s not going to help either,” he said and leaned back against the sack of grain.  Pa settled his arm over Joe’s shoulder and waited for an explanation.

Dropping his head down into his hands, the teenager fought not to cry even though he wanted to do just that.   “Jennifer – she loves that new guy at school Steve.  She told me today,” He whispered.

Ben fought a knowing smile as he’d been through dealing with broken hearts from both of his other sons and knew that it would seem like the end of the world to his youngest.  He would have to try to let Joe get it all out of his system.

“I’m so sorry, Joseph, I know you liked her,” Ben tried to comfort the boy.

“No, Pa!  I don’t like her I love her — I still love her – even though I wish I hated her right now!” Joe exclaimed angrily.

“Son, I know you’re hurt – but in time –,” Ben tried to get through to his youngest, but Joe cut him off.

“Time?  No, Pa – it don’t matter how long I live I’ll never get over this.  I’ll never love anyone else – I’ll go to my grave wishing that she loved me.  I’d like to get a gun and shoot that guy!”

Ben pulled Joe to him and squeezed his shoulder, “Now, Joseph – you know that you don’t mean that.  First – believe it or not both of your brothers have had similar situations happen to them.  And even your Pa here has had a lost love or two when I was growing up.  It will get better.  But I don’t want to hear you talking about getting a gun – I know you’re just saying that because you’re angry – but I don’t want to hear that out of your mouth.”

Joe looked down at the hay covered floor of the loft and muttered, “But, I feel like if – if he hadn’t come along maybe she would’ve loved me, Pa?”

Ben shook his head and wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulder and whispered, “Joe, you can’t make someone love you – they either do or they don’t.  I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but you will find love again.”

“Oh, Pa – I don’t want to – I don’t ever want to love anyone again.  It just hurts too much,” Joe cried and then turned his face into his father’s shoulder as tears slid down his cheeks.

Ben hugged his son to his chest and sighed.  Joe always had played hard, fought hard and now he had fallen in love hard.  Pa knew that as a father all he could do was to hold his son and hope he’d get over his heartbreak without going through too much pain.  “I know it hurts, Son.  Someday it won’t.”

“Pa?  Hey, Pa – you okay?” Hoss called down to his father as he stood next to his desk.

Ben shook himself from his memories and stared up at his son.  “Oh – sorry, Hoss, I didn’t hear you come in.  Is everything running smoothly up with the herd?”

Hoss smiled over at his father and sat down alongside him.  “Yes, Sir – no problems.  I remembered this morning you asked me to get back by five so we could go over what I’m supposed to do tonight.”

Ben opened his pocket watch and noted the time.  “I guess I was daydreaming longer than I thought — it’s a quarter till five now.”

“You told me last night I’m supposed to go by the Silver Dollar tonight but didn’t tell me what my role in this masquerade is.”

Ben stood and walked over to the brandy decanter figuring that it was time to have that drink he’d wanted earlier.  “You want one?”

“Sure,” Hoss nodded, he wasn’t all that thirsty but seeing how upset his father looked, he figured that he wouldn’t make him drink alone.

Pouring two quick shots of the amber colored liquor, Ben handed one of the glasses to his son.  “Hoss, there’s going to be a fight –,” He began but was cut off in mid-sentence.

“Little Joe going to get in ANOTHER fight?  He just had a good one yesterday!” Hoss exclaimed.

Pa nodded, “I am well aware of that, Young Man, now let me finish,” Ben sighed.

“Sorry, Pa, go ahead.”

“I got a message from Crystal that Joseph is going to get into a fracas at the Silver Dollar around seven p.m. and he and another man are going to apparently tear the place up.  I imagine that Sam is going to have a pure fit.  So, your job is to conveniently pass by the saloon around seven o’clock, and if Sam asks for assistance you have to let him know that you don’t want any part of helping your brother.  The people in town have witnessed me turning my back on Joseph and they’ve seen Adam having a brawl with him – so now it’s your turn to let everyone know that you don’t care about him either.”

Hoss took a sip of his brandy and shook his head.  “Pa – that ain’t easy for me – I’m not the actor that you and Adam are,” He complained.

“At least you’re going to be spared hitting the kid.  I had to backhand him, and your brother had to fight Joe in the street.”

“Okay, Pa – I’d better finish this drink and head on out,” Hoss nodded.  His heart wasn’t in what he was being asked to do, but he knew that Joe needed his help in keeping up appearances, so he’d go along with it all.

“Thank you, Hoss,” Pa smiled and reached over and patted the big-hearted man’s shoulder.

Joe versus the giant and enter Hoss.

Joe sat at a table inside the Silver Dollar Saloon and nursed his beer.  He had only indulged in two drinks so far that evening as he wasn’t sure if he’d need to have his wits about him when the fight started.  The only information he had been given by Crystal earlier that day was that around seven o’clock someone would approach him, and a fight would then commence.  Staring up at the clock right above the bartender’s head Joe could see that it was just about that time.  Glancing around there were only about six other men in the place, it being Sunday night.  He wondered which one might be heading his way soon.

In through the swinging doors walked a hulking figure of a man.  Joe took a deep breath and hoped that he wasn’t going to be facing Goliath up at the bar.  He watched as the man paid for a bottle of whiskey and then turned and looked his way.

***Oh no *** Joe thought to himself when the man made eye contact with him and then advanced to his table.

“You’re sitting at my table, Boy,” The man growled down at Joe.

“I’ll be done with it in a little while – like in a month or so,” Joe answered sarcastically, still not knowing if the big burly man was his contact or just some loudmouth who wanted to throw his weight around.

“Well, I’d say that you had the month of September and now that it’s October your time is up, Sonny!  Now get out of my chair and get away from my table.,” The man announced.

*** Great, it is the guy!  Thanks a lot, Crystal – couldn’t you have found someone shorter and about two hundred pounds lighter? *** Joe thought to himself.  He had heard the code word and would have to start the fight now.

“You can have the rest of this place, but this table is mine!  Go find another one,” Joe argued the point.

The man shoved the chair next to where Joe was sitting, and it careened into his leg.  He sprang to his feet and sent a punch at the giant of a man.  Then all hell broke out at the bar.  Joe and the other man sent a few punches at each other which were followed by several chairs being tossed across the room.  Joe was knocked on the floor but came back swinging and his left fist connected with the other man’s jaw.  The giant pushed Joe up against the wall and punched his mid-section.  Joe was finally able to break free of the man’s hold and threw a bottle towards him as he ran across the room.  The next thing that was witnessed by Sam, the owner and bartender, was a chair being launched towards him.  He ducked just at the precise moment that it crashed into the large mirror right behind where he had been standing.  Sam hurried out into the street hoping to find the sheriff.  Instead, he saw Hoss Cartwright as he was tying the reins of his horse to the hitching post outside.

“Hoss!” Sam shouted and moved over to him.  “Help – your brother and another guy are busting up my place.  Go in there and get Little Joe to stop the fight before the whole saloon is destroyed!”

Hoss frowned and shook his head.  “Sorry – can’t help you there, Sam.  I done gave up on helping that kid.  I guess you’d better get Roy to stop him.”

“The guy is a foot taller than Joe—ain’t you gonna help the boy?” Sam returned very upset at Hoss’ cavalier attitude.

“Not my problem,” Hoss insisted and simply walked away.

Sam ran down to the jail to summon Roy Coffee.  Five minutes later the sheriff walked into the bar with a scatter rifle underneath his arm.

“You two stop or I swear I’ll fire this!” Roy shouted and raised the rifle.

Both Joe and the man who had attacked him stopped the fight when they spotted the sheriff and the gun he held up.

“Now the two of you come on along there’s damages to pay for and either a fine or a few nights in my jail – depending on how generous I feel,” Roy announced and pointed with his rifle for the two men to walk out of the swinging doors.

Roy escorted both brawlers down to the jail and then locked them up in different cells to keep them separated.

“Hey, Roy!” Joe sang out.  “How long do I have to stay in here?  That dumb ox in the other cell started it all!”

Roy shook his head and replied, “Sam is tallying up the damages, so you just sit there and be quiet.  You both was fighting, and you both was busting up the place.  I just can’t believe you’d act like this Little Joe!  Here it’s the sabbath and everything and you’re drinking and fighting.”

“Hey – there ain’t no law that says a person can’t drink on Sunday,” Joe spit back angrily.

Roy moved closer to Joe’s jail cell and wagged his pointer finger at the boy.  “Little Joe, I’ve known you since you was born – and I just can’t rightly believe that you’d turn out like this.  What happened to you, Boy?  What would your pa say about you drinking and fighting like you were on a Sunday?”

Joe sneered as he replied, “I don’t have a pa anymore – didn’t you get the news?  And I don’t need a sermon from a preacher or a sheriff.”

“Hey—let me out of here, Sheriff, I don’t want to sit in a cell next to this idiot,” The man who had started the fight called out.

“Both of you will sit in your cells and be quiet.  I’ll let you two know when I’ve got the total for the damages and the fine.  Until then just cool your heels,” Roy yelled and then closed the door that separated the cells and the front office.  He had had quite enough of the whole fight and listening to both men too.

Here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten me into.

Joe and the man in the jail cell next to him didn’t speak due to the circumstances but they nodded over at each other.  There wasn’t anything to do but sit and wait for Roy to come back to tell them what they’d have to pay for busting up the Silver Dollar.  Finally, after almost two hours the sheriff walked back in to address the two brawlers.

“Sam’s got it figured up now and between the damages and the fine each of you owe seventy-five dollars.  Now you can either pay up or spend the next month being housed here in my jail.”

“I got that much on me,” The man in the cell next to Joe called over to Roy.

“Never got your name – tell me so’s I can write it down along with the fine,” The sheriff called in through the steel bars.

“Charlie Kincaid is the name,” He announced.

“Okay, Mister Kincaid let me see the color of your money.”

The man reached inside of his vest and pulled out his wallet.  He counted out seventy-five dollars and handed it to Roy.

The sheriff checked the amount and then pulled the keys off the wall and let the man out.  “If I catch you starting any fights in town, I won’t be this generous Mister Kincaid.  I’ll just throw the book at you.  And that’s the only warning I’m giving you.  Now go on and get out of my jail.”

As the man left the back room the sheriff turned to Joe and said, “Well?  You got the money, Little Joe?”

Joe frowned and shook his head.  “I’ve got about ten dollars to my name.  Any chance I can pay you later?”

Roy looked at his best friend’s youngest son and wondered what had happened to the kid and why he would get to the point where he was broke and disowned by his father.  “I can’t do that, Joe.  How about the bank?  You have an account, right?”

Joe sighed and returned, “I’ve gone through everything I had in the bank and I’m about to lose my hotel room if I don’t give them this ten dollars that I’ve got – and even that won’t cover all that I owe.”

“Why don’t you let me send for your pa, Little Joe?  I’m sure if you apologize, he’ll end up forgiving you.”

Joe sank back on the cot and anger framed his face.  “I’d sooner rot in here than to talk to that man.  I feel towards him like he does towards me – I hate him.”

“Now come on—I know your pa don’t hate you – and I just can’t believe you could ever hate your father,” Roy protested.

“I guess I’ll see you in the morning,” Joe muttered and laid back on the cot closing his eyes leaving Roy standing there wondering what in the world had happened to the Cartwright family.

As soon as Joe heard the sheriff leave, closing the door behind him, he shook his head and looked around at the jail cell.  *** I sure hope this works, Crystal, and I also hope that I don’t have to sit here for a whole month neither.  Some plan you put together!  First, I get slapped by my pa, then I get disinherited, then I get pounded by Adam and ignored by Hoss and then pounded again by a giant.  Now I’m a darn prisoner.  There’s just GOT to be an easier way to catch criminals without becoming one! *** Joe thought to himself and then, wishing he was back at home, fell into an uneasy slumber.

Take your son back — please!

Sheriff Roy Coffee had given up on trying to talk some sense into Little Joe Cartwright.  He had tried for four days to get the boy to simply apologize to his father and then get Ben to pay his fine, so he’d get out of his jail.  But the young man had flat out refused to budge and was still not acknowledging Ben to be his pa anymore.  So, by Thursday Roy had left his prisoner in the care of Clem, his deputy and taken it upon himself to ride out to the Ponderosa and try to get his old friend to step in and bring the kid home.

“Hi, Roy!” Hoss called over to the sheriff as he tied his horse to the front hitching post.  He walked over to the other man and shook his hand.

“Howdy there, Hoss.  Hey is your pa around?”

“Yeah, he just got back from the mill come on in the house,” Hoss answered and walked with the sheriff inside the ranch house.

Ben sat at his desk in the study when he heard the front door open and noticed that he had company.  He stood and approached his old friend.

“You’re a long way from town, Roy.  Come on over to the fireplace and have a seat.  Hoss, why don’t you go and ask Hop Sing to bring in some coffee?” Ben said as he shook Roy’s hand and motioned for him to have a seat on the settee.

“I reckon I could use some coffee, thanks, Ben,” Roy nodded over to the man as he sat across from him in the red leather chair.

“So?  What brings you out here?” Pa got right to the point as he stared over at the lawman.  He had pretty much figured out that it had to have something to do with the fact that his youngest son was now a resident of the Virginia City Jail.

Hoss walked in from the kitchen and brought with him a tray with three cups and a fresh pot of coffee.  He poured Roy and his father a cup and handed each one over to them.

“Thanks,” Roy said and took a sip of the brew before answering his friend.  “Ben, I know this is a touchy subject but – well – it’s about Little Joe,” He began.

Ben’s face took on a scowl and he drew in a deep breath before responding.  “I was hoping this didn’t have anything to do with that boy.  If that’s why you’ve come, I’m afraid you’ve wasted a good part of your day.”

“Then you know that he’s been in my jail better than four days now?”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” Ben grumbled.

Roy shook his head still bewildered over the way the Cartwrights were acting.  He never remembered a time when all four of them hadn’t pulled together and helped each other no matter the problem.  There was just something odd about the whole situation.  “The kid doesn’t have a dime to his name, Ben.  He had ten dollars but that went for some of what he owed at the hotel and now he’s dead broke.  You can’t possibly want Joe to sit in my jail for a month!”

Ben stood and turned his back on the sheriff after giving Hoss a quick “I’ll handle this” look.  “Joseph spent his money on whiskey and women.  I warned him and he just refused to listen to me, Roy.  I had no other choice than to disinherit him.  I tried my best for nineteen years — but as I told you before – I am done with him.  He’s caused enough dishonor to the Cartwright name — hanging around with saloon girls until all hours of the night and swilling liquor like a drunken sailor!”

The sheriff set his cup down onto the coffee table and walked over to Ben.  “Don’t you think that if you’d try one last time to talk to Little Joe that just maybe he’d listen to you now?  Nobody has come to see him you know.  Well – other than that saloon gal Crystal but she only came looking for money that the kid didn’t have and never came back.  He’s still young, Ben – and I think he needs his pa.”

Ben finally turned and stared directly into Roy’s eyes.  He set his shoulders and with a furrowed brow replied, “I am no longer his pa, Roy.  He had his chance – many in fact but I am done with him.  I appreciate the fact that you like playing peace maker but it’s pointless in this case.”

Roy sighed wearily and shook his head very disheartened.  He couldn’t figure Ben Cartwright anymore.  No matter what any of his boys had done in the past, especially his youngest, the man had always stood by their side.  He had expected Ben to come to the jail and drag Joe out of there and maybe give him a good walloping to straighten the kid out.  But now he was standing his ground just like that ornery boy he had in his jail cell.

“I had to try – guess I’ll get on back to town.  Thanks for the coffee,” Roy announced and turned for the door.

Hoss and his father exchanged woeful glances and walked behind the sheriff.

“We’ll see you next time we’re in town,” Ben nodded over to the man as he walked out the front door.

Hoss turned and looked at his pa.  “Dad burn it, Pa, this is getting to be a real mess!”

Ben groaned and rubbed the back of his neck trying to release the knot that had formed there due to the stress that the whole darned situation was causing.  He hated to lie to his dear friend but there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.  Colonel McMasters had given specific instructions on who could be told about the operation and who couldn’t.  And Roy Coffee wasn’t one of those who had been chosen to be included on the list of who knew what was happening with Joe.  “I know – but right now Joe is the bait that they’re using to catch everyone who’s involved with those pilfered rifles.  We’ve got to let it run its course, Son.”

“I just hate to think of Little Joe sitting there day after day in that jail cell,” Hoss said frowning over the thought of his brother being all alone.

Ben raised his eyebrows as he looked into his son’s sad blue eyes and replied, “Do you think I like the fact that Joseph is in there?  I don’t!  I wish I could just go to the jail and drag him out of there and be done with all of this!  But he wanted to do it – he said he needed to do it because of Jennifer.  I could’ve forced him to stay here – but he would’ve resented it – and maybe he would’ve ended up resenting me as well.  All we can do right now is to wait and pray that everything will work out and that this charade will be coming to an end soon.”

“I know, Pa — I know,” Hoss sighed sadly and walked away.  He was worried about his brother being in jail and how he would handle everything if he did find the person responsible for selling rifles to the Indians.  All Hoss could do was to say yet another silent prayer that Little Joe would be alright.

Enter Pete Timmons.  AKA of all of the jail cells in all of the towns in all of the world he’s got to be outside of mine.

Joe heard a peculiar sound coming in through the steel bars of his window.  He pulled himself up off the bunk and stared out into the alleyway.  *** Oh no!  Just what I need! *** He thought to himself as he spied the man standing on the other side of his window.

“Why Joe Cartwright!” The man called up to him and smiled like a cat eating a canary.  “How long you in for, Boy?”

“Why don’t you go pester somebody else, Timmons?” Joe frowned.  He sure didn’t need the grin that was planted on his evil nemesis’ face.  Pete Timmons had been like a burr underneath his saddle for several years and he was the one who usually spent time behind bars but now the rolls were sadly reversed and quite obviously the man was trying to rub that fact in.

“What are you in for, Joe?  Did your daddy take away your allowance and you had to rob a bank?” Pete continued laughing.

Joe sneered over at Pete and replied, “I’m in for murder – why don’t you come closer because they can only hang me once and I’d like to take you with me.”

“Sorry, Joe – can’t do that.  I think I’ll go over to the Ponderosa and see if your daddy would like to take me in as a son now that he’s kicked your sorry butt out.  You should’ve seen that coming because I did!”

“You and Ben Cartwright deserve each other – so go ahead – get out of here!”

“Why Joe – you sound a bit touchy – are you missing that nice cushy lifestyle you had?  Or are you missing your pa tucking you in at night?”

Joe grabbed onto the steel bars and fought his urge to break out and go mop the street with old Pete.  “Come closer and I’ll tuck you in alright!”

Pete bent down and picked up a clod of dirt and threw it into the cell hitting Joe square in the face.  He laughed heartily at the surprised look that the prisoner now wore.

“Damn you, Timmons!  When I get out of here, you’d better hide because I’m going to take care of you once and for all!” Joe swore, wiping the dirt from his face.

Pete tipped his hat and called over to Joe, “Sorry I heard Sheriff Coffee has got you as a guest for a whole month and I can’t wait that long.  No, I got things to do.  Yep, I’m going to go over to the Bucket of Blood and go see your girlfriend, Crystal.  I figure she needs to see what a real man can do for her.”

Joe grinned thinking of what Crystal would do to Timmons if he even tried to touch her.  “Yeah, Pete, you go do that.  Send her my regards.”

“Okay, Joe – now don’t you go anywhere,” Pete laughed and walked away.

Joe sank back down onto the bunk and shook his head.  He hoped that something would happen soon or else he’d have to figure out a way to break out of Roy Coffee’s jail.

Roy Coffee’s one hundred and first John Smith.

Roy Coffee frowned as he tried to get his paperwork done.  He didn’t like Fridays as they were usually busy, and this one had been worse than usual.  There were old posters to go through to see who was caught, who was shot dead and who was still on the loose.  Roy also had a prisoner who had to get three square meals a day and he was getting tired of being the one to feed the kid.  On top of all of that, since it was the start of the weekend, he figured that Joe would soon have some company in the back room as there would be drunken cowboys to deal with as was typical on a Friday night.

A man walked through the door and the sheriff stared up at him through his reading glasses.

“And what can I do for you?” Roy asked fighting a frown.  He didn’t need any more business at the time.

“I’m here to pay Joe Cartwright’s damages and his fine.”

Roy shot the man a suspicious glance as he’d never seen him before.  “And who might you be?”

“The names John – John Smith.”

Roy stifled a laugh.  The man had to know he wasn’t buying that name as in his thirty years of being a sheriff Roy had booked at least one hundred men by that name.  “Oh—Mister Smith, huh?  And just how do you know Joe Cartwright?”

“I used to work for his pa, and I heard he’d fallen on hard times, so I thought I’d help the kid out.  Now how much is it to get him out of here?” The man asked.

Roy didn’t buy the man’s name nor his explanation, however there wasn’t anything he could do about someone wanting to pay another person’s fine.  He’d have to take the man’s money and let Joe out.  “It’ll be seventy-five dollars.”

Mister Smith counted out the money and laid it down onto the top of Roy’s desk.

Sighing to himself, the sheriff stood up and grabbed the keys to Joe’s jail cell and walked into the next room.

Joe sat up on his bunk as he saw the sheriff approaching.  “What’s going on, Roy?”

“Gonna let you out, Little Joe.  Seems you have an old friend who took pity on you and paid for the damages and your fine,” Roy answered as he opened the jail cell door.  “Come on into my office and I’ll give you your holster and hat.”

Walking into the next room Joe stood face to face with a perfect stranger.  He didn’t have a clue as to what to do next.

“I don’t know if you remember me, Joe, but I used to work on your ranch a few years back.  The name’s Smith,” The man said and nodded over to the young man.

“Well — yeah – you do look familiar,” Joe returned as he strapped on his holster and pulled his hat off the rack behind Roy’s desk.  “I just want to thank you for helping me out,” Joe shook the man’s hand and nodded over to him.

“You’re welcome.  Well – I’ve got things to do.  Goodbye, Sheriff — goodbye Joe,” Mister Smith simply turned and walked out of the jailhouse.

Roy stood and approached Joe.  “Little Joe – I don’t exactly know who that man is, but it seems awful strange to me that you said you remembered him – but your face told a different story.”

Joe donned his hat and avoided Roy’s piercing stare which at times mimicked his pa’s.  “I’ve got things to do, Roy.  See you around.”

As Joe walked out of the jail Roy called after him “You stay out of trouble you hear?”

Joe answered with laughter and headed over to the hotel.  Just as soon as he crossed the threshold, he spotted the same man who had bailed him out.  Mister Smith approached him and, keeping his voice down to a whisper, spoke out.

“Your hotel bill has been paid.  They were going to throw away your saddlebags and all your possessions, but they’re back up in the room you’d been staying in.  We also took care of your livery bill.”

“Well – thanks for that – Mister Smith – but who is “we”?” Joe answered suspiciously.

“Here’s your room key, you’ll be hearing from us,” Mister Smith handed it to Joe and then simply walked out of the hotel.

Shrugging his shoulders, as he wondered just what was going on, Joe climbed the stairs.  The man hadn’t used the code word, so he figured it wasn’t someone that was on the right side of the law.  Turning the key in the doorknob, Joe walked into his hotel room.

An old friend emerges.

Hearing the sudden sound of laughter, Joe stared across the room and laying on the bed was someone he hadn’t seen in years.

“Gant?” Joe asked, with bewilderment painting his face.  “Gant – what are you doing here?”

The other man stood from his position on the bed and approached Joe.  “Joe Cartwright – I bet you never thought you’d see me again, huh?” Gant grinned and reached out to shake the other man’s hand.

Joe smiled and shook Gant’s outstretched hand.  “No – didn’t think you were around these parts.   What’s it been?  Five years now?”

Gant nodded and took a seat opposite the bed.  “Yeah – I left school a year before you, remember?  I got out of this stinking town and didn’t think I’d ever be coming back.”

“Where have you been all of this time?” Joe asked as he sat down on the bottom of the bed and stared over at the man.  He was two years older than Joe but apparently had lived a hard life and it showed on his face.  Instead of twenty-two, Gant looked at least thirty.  He was just a few inches taller than Joe, but he had the same kind of curly hair and was of the same build.  He wore a gunman’s holster, one that had a slit in the front so the Colt revolver could pull straight through at lightning speed.  Joe had always wondered if Gant had turned to crime since he had such a rough childhood.  He was an orphan and lived off charity most of the time.  He’d had an adoptive father, but they didn’t get along and Gant had been tossed out onto the streets by the time he was fourteen.  Joe had felt sorry for the kid and had taken a couple of beatings when he defended him at school.  Now as he stared over at his old friend, he could tell that the years of being picked on and pushed around had caused him to turn against society in general.

“Oh, I’ve been about everywhere, Joe – and I’ve done a little bit of everything along the way.  Now what’s this I heard about you?  Is it true that your pa kicked you out?”

Joe reached into his corduroy jacket and pulled out one of his hand-rolled cigarettes and lit it.  He leaned back on the bed like he didn’t have a care in the world before he answered his old friend.  “Yeah, it’s true—which is why I couldn’t pay that fine or for the damages.  I guess I kinda owe you for doing all of that and for paying my hotel bill too, huh?”

“Naw – forget it.  Remember how we were friends in school?  Yeah – you were just about the only one I had too.  Let’s just call us even, okay?”

“Well, I sure appreciate it, Gant – as you know I’m broke – which is why I’ve been cooling my heels over at that darn jail all week.  I’ve got to try to find some work soon.  Thanks for keeping a roof over my head — but I’m gonna pay you back – just as soon as I can,” Joe insisted.

“What kind of work?” Gant asked.

Joe drew in a long drag of his cigarette and tried not to choke from the smoke.  “Anything that will pay good.  I want to get out of this town and out of Nevada too.”

Gant stared at Joe and read anger in his eyes.  “It’s that bad with your pa, huh?”

“I ain’t got a pa anymore, Gant.  And that suits me just fine.  I’m more like my mother and I want to go to where she was from.  I probably have some kin in New Orleans, but even if I don’t it’s where I’d rather live than here.  I don’t want to run into any of those people that I used to call my family,” Joe returned hotly.

Gant stood and approached his friend. Settling a hand down onto his shoulder he said, “I might just know of something that would suit you.”

“Yeah?  Does it pay good?  Because I’ll take about anything as long as it’s worth my time.  I’m going to need a lot of money in order to get to New Orleans.”

“I think it will be perfect for you.  I’ve heard you’re a pretty fast shot, huh, Joe?”

Joe nodded and smiled at his old friend.  “About the fastest around here.”

“You just give me a few hours and I’ll be back, and I just might have a proposition for you too!” Gant declared and patted his friend’s shoulder and turned for the door.

“Thanks!” Joe called across the room as the man exited.  He laid back onto the bed and grinned.  It had been just as Colonel McMasters had suspected; Gant Fenner was involved with something shady.  Joe waited and hoped that he would know soon who had been dealing stolen rifles to the renegades.

The terrible alias.

“Well, the kid’s out of jail,” Adam called over to his father and brother as he made his way over to the dining table.  “I ran into Roy, and he said a man name John Smith got Joe out.”

Ben looked up from his dinner plate and stared over at his eldest.  “I take it that Mister Smith isn’t working on the right side of this?”

Adam shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I don’t know exactly, Pa.  But that’s a terrible alias if he’s working with Crystal.  I think Joe might have found one of the men he was looking for – or at least someone to take him to the ones the Colonel is after.”

Hoss and Adam could read the apprehension that was now on their father’s face and sought something to say to ease his mind about Joe’s safety.

“You know, Pa, we don’t give Little Joe enough credit.  We’ve seen him get himself out of plenty of jams in the past – I’m sure he’s got good instincts and will be okay,” Hoss remarked.

Pa braided the fingers of both hands and dropped his head down onto them.  “This time’s going to be much harder for the boy, Hoss.  He doesn’t know who to trust and how deep that rifle running operation is.”

Adam reached over and patted his father’s shoulder and added, “Pa, he’s got that code word – that’ll help Joe.  Try not to worry – he’s going to be okay.”

“Joseph is trying to infiltrate a gang that doesn’t even care about human life at all.  Them selling those weapons to the Indians is exactly what’s causing settlers to be killed all over Nevada.  They don’t respect life – so what’s to stop them from killing your brother?”

“Come on, Pa, once Joe has the names and the goods on them, he’ll have the help of the cavalry.  He’s not in this alone, they’ll be passing information through a lot of sources,” Adam argued the point to try and get his father to relax.

Ben shot a quick glance between his two sons and responded, “You two boys are more experienced than your brother, but I wouldn’t like it if either of you were doing this type of covert work. Joseph is much younger, and the boy doesn’t have the best track record for not getting hurt you know?”

Hoss smiled and replied, “Pa, if Joe is gonna get hurt it don’t matter if he’s here at the ranch or out there somewhere on a secret mission.  But you gotta remember that he’s overcome just about everything in the past – the kid is tough and ornery.  He’s got that going for him.  Try to relax – you know Joe wouldn’t like you to get sick over all of this.”

“Just keep saying your prayers, the both of you,” Ben returned and stood from the table without finishing his meal.  His stomach was tied in knots now that he knew that Joe was getting somewhere with his mission.  He had hoped that no-one would show up and the Colonel would call him off and be done with the kid.

So you say you’re a good shot?

Joe tried his best not to appear nervous or anxious as he rode next to Gant later that evening.  He had been told that his old friend had a lead on someone who might want to hire Joe for his prowess with handling a six-gun.  The two men left Virginia City right before dark and had ridden straight east for almost an hour before a small cabin came into sight.

Gant signaled his friend to tie his mount next to his right by the front porch.  Joe swung down from Cochise and tried to size up the situation, knowing that any mistake on his part could end up being deadly.  He stepped up onto the porch and stood behind Gant as the man knocked three times on the door.

“Come on in!” A voice called out from inside.

The one room cabin was dimly lit, and Joe peered around trying to make sure he had everyone inside well within his sight just in case.

“This here is Joe Cartwright,” Gant announced and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder as they approached the small oval table where one man sat, and two others flanked him.

“Hello, Joe,” The man who remained seated called up to him.  “You can call me Pierce – and these are my associates R.J. and Vester,” he said indicating the two men standing behind him.

“Nice to meet you,” Joe returned for lack of something better to say at the time.  “Gant told me you might have some work for me?”

Pierce laughed and nodded over to Gant.  “He gets right to business, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah – Joe’s in a hurry to get a grubstake so he can leave for New Orleans soon.  I said you might just have a need for a good hired gun.”

“I certainly do.  You see, Joe – we lost a couple of men last week and due to the business that we’re in – well we need to put on some more security.  Gant says you’re fast with a gun, is that right?”

Joe nodded over to the man and sent a confident smile across the table.  “Yep, you’ll not find anyone faster or more accurate than me, Pierce.”

“A man with a good sense of pride in what he’s accomplished – I like that,” Pierce grinned.  “You care to prove it?”

“You pick the target – which one of those men don’t you need?” Joe asked indicating the men flanking Pierce.  His gaze grew deadly.

Pierce glanced at the two men and then back over at Joe.  “No – that’s not necessary – these men are some of the best I’ve got.  I was thinking more of a target practice situation, Joe.  There’s not much light left – but let’s all go outside, shall we?”

Joe and Gant walked out of the cabin ahead of Pierce and his two henchmen.  They were told to step down from the porch and head over to the tree line.

“That’ll be fine right there,” Pierce announced and then pointed back towards the cabin.  “You think you can hit that one loose shingle just above the door from here, Joe?”

Joe grinned and nodded.  “Just tell me when you want it off of the roof.”

“Now!” Pierce shouted and watched as Joe Cartwright’s Colt came out of his holster in a split second and the kid managed to take off the shingle from a good distance.  “Joe – that’s about as fast and accurate as I’ve ever seen.”

Joe twirled his six-gun and settled it back inside of the holster with a contented smile on his face.  “Thanks.”

“Yeah — but can he shoot at something that’s shooting back?” R.J. sneered over at Joe.

“Wanna see me?” Joe fired back with a steely gaze.  “Anytime you’re ready.”

Pierce reached over and steadied Joe’s left hand.  “It’s fine – we get the picture.  Okay if you want a job, you’ve got it.  We have several shipments of materials that we have to get moved through some pretty tough territory.  You’ll be expected to help us load the materials and protect the shipments.”

“I take it that these shipments aren’t something that you can just leave up to Wells Fargo to handle?” Joe asked with a wry smile.

“Exactly,” Pierce nodded.

“How much do I get paid to help you with this little project?”

“For starters – that is until you prove yourself with me – how about twenty dollars a week?”

Joe reached inside of his jacket and withdrew one of his cigarettes and lit it.  “I’d say twenty-five sounds a bit better.”

Pierce stared over at Gant and asked, “Is he worth it?”

Gant nodded and remarked, “Joe’s got a natural talent for getting out of trouble, Pierce – I’d say twenty-five to start him out is about right.”

Pierce reached over and shook Joe’s hand and said, “You’re hired.  How soon can you get your things together and come back out here?  We’re hoping to load a shipment in the next day or two and need the help.”

Joe’s thoughts swirled rapidly in his mind, and he fought not to show it on his face.  He knew he’d need to pass the information on to Crystal and give her time to get in touch with Colonel McMasters, so he’d know what to do next.  Drawing in a drag from his cigarette Joe replied, “I’d like to maybe go and see a friend of mine first — a special lady friend that is.  I need to give her a little money to hold her until I get back.  You see if I just up and leave — well — before long she’d be forced to have other suitors and I just don’t like that idea.”

“Can you be back by this time tomorrow?” Pierce asked.

“I can be back earlier— I just need to ask a favor of you though.”

“Yes?”

“Could I have a little money in advance?  Gant and his other friend that I met in town took care of my debts because I’m a bit broke at the moment.  Could you see your way clear to front me maybe twenty dollars?” Joe asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Pierce smiled and reached inside of his vest.  “Here you go – to keep the lamplight burning at your girlfriend’s place while she waits to see you again,” he said and handed Joe twenty dollars.

“Thanks – thanks a lot, Pierce,” Joe called over to the man as he tucked the money into his jacket.

“We’ll expect you tomorrow, Joe,” Gant said and patted his friend on the back.

“Aren’t you coming back into Virginia City?”

“No – I’ll see you tomorrow.  You go take care of Crystal and we’ll all see you then.”

Joe walked to his pinto smiling to himself.  He hadn’t said one word to any of the four men about who his girlfriend was and yet Gant had known her name.   Joe figured he had been watched quite a while before they had felt comfortable enough to offer him a job.  Swinging up into the saddle, Joe waved to the men and headed back into town.

Telling Little Joe Cartwright not to take any unnecessary chances.  AKA a paradox.

“Here you go, Crystal, now be sure to stay true to me,” Joe laughed and handed her the twenty dollars.

Crystal looked over at Joe and worried that the young man wasn’t taking the seriousness of the situation to heart.  He had given her all the information he had garnered from the men he had met that day and what he was going to be doing as far as the shipments of supplies went.

“Joe – I don’t want you taking any chances.  Your job is to find out who the lead man is in all of this.  I’m quite sure that the men who you dealt with today are just working for whoever is getting a hold of the stolen Henry’s.  The Colonel has some men watching your moves, so hopefully you’ll be okay.  It helped that you were able to flush your old friend Gant Fenner out, but just remember it’s still a very dangerous assignment.  Don’t take any unnecessary risks.  See what you can find out and then get out of there as quick as you can.”

Joe stood from the sofa and looked down at the girl.  “You kinda sounded like my pa for a second,” Joe laughed.  “Don’t worry – I’ll be watching my back at all times.”

“I’ll get word to your family as soon as I can, so they’ll know why you’ve left Virginia City.  Be careful, Joe,” Crystal warned again as she walked him to the door.

Joe pulled the door open and glanced back at Crystal one more time.  “Hey – don’t worry about me.  You just keep those other men away!”

Crystal laughed and said, “Oh I don’t have any problem doing that, Joe.  As a matter of fact, that rotten friend of yours Mister Timmons is now walking with a noticeable limp!”

“Good girl,” Joe smiled and turned the doorknob.  “I thought he’d meet his match if he tried to pester you.  See you, Crystal.”

“Goodbye, Joe,” she said as she watched him stepping out into the hallway.  *** I hope you know what you’re doing.  Watch yourself, Joe. *** Crystal thought as she closed the door.

Joe Cartwright goes over to the dark side.

The first week of Joe’s new career, having put aside bronc busting and herding cattle, was spent getting to know all of those around him.  He sized up the man who had only given the name “Pierce” to him.  Joe wasn’t certain if that was supposed to be his first or last name.  In fact, he was pretty sure that it was nothing more than an alias.  Joe also kept a watchful eye on the other two men who he had been introduced to that first night.  The one known as Vester was quiet and stayed in the background most days, while his counterpart, known as R.J., appeared to be a braggard and a showoff.  Joe could see why there were positions to fill in the operation as it appeared that a person could easily get themselves killed if he asked too many questions or tried to get ahead of R.J. Joe remembered Adam quoting Shakespeare’s Julius Ceasar and mentioning that Cassius had a” lean and hungry look”.  The same could be said about R.J., along with the fact that he was seeking a showdown with the newest member of the team.

By the beginning of his second week in the employ of Pierce, Joe had successfully convinced his boss that he was both trustworthy and hard working.  The man had started to let his guard down a bit and had shared meals with Joe and quite a few drinks.  Having to pace himself a little, as Pierce drank from a bottle that contained whiskey and not strong tea, Joe would sit at night listening to the tales that the man told.  There wasn’t anything that Pierce liked to talk more about than himself.  Joe cajoled the man hoping that he would spill out the information that he needed if he just kept Pierce drinking.

“You sure have travelled a lot, Pierce,” Joe nodded to the man as he refilled the two shot glasses and passed one across the table.

Pierce smiled over at his new hire and replied, “Yes, all over this country, in fact.”

“Ever been to New Orleans?  That’s where I’m heading as soon as my job is finished here.”

Pierce nodded and studied the young man’s face.  “Yes – several times.  Gant told me you’ve made a lot of changes in your life recently, Joe.  So, you’re serious about leaving Nevada?”

“Nothing’s keeping me here except the fact that I need money.  New Orleans is where my mother was born.”

“There might be a chance for you to make extra money for your travels if you’ll stick it out with us for a few more weeks depending on what you’re willing to do,” Pierce stated cryptically.

Joe leaned back in his chair and pulled a cigarette out of his jacket and lit it.  “All I’ve done thus far is to help load and guard crates – very heavy crates at that.  I still don’t know what you’re shipping.”

Pierce laughed and polished off his whiskey.  “I appreciate the fact that you’ve not gotten nosey, Joe.  But I guess it would lead you to wonder about what we’re doing.”

“Care to fill me in?” Joe asked, trying not to sound too anxious.

“We distribute certain important goods to buyers who need them.  Our next shipment, now that it’s finally ready, will go out in the morning.  Your job is to use your gun to protect it and if you prove yourself useful there’s a chance to have more opportunities to use your talents.”

“What’s the chance you were talking about – so I can earn more money?  I mean I’ve gotten good at loading crates, and I’ll help protect them, but what else do you have in mind?”

“We all have our own bosses, Joe.  I’m not the top man —not yet at least.  But I’d kinda like to get there before too long.  If you understand what I’m saying?” Pierce’s tone turned sinister, and it gave Joe pause.

“Yeah — I think I do.  When do you want to move up the ladder?  Do you need a boost?” Joe grinned and sipped his whiskey.

Pierce stood and walked over to Joe and patted his shoulder before replying.  “I’ll let you know when – and who.  You just keep doing your job until I tell you what else I want you to do.”

Joe simply nodded and watched as Pierce walked over to his bunk and sat down.  He couldn’t help wondering what was going on and how many people were involved.  Joe frowned when he realized he hadn’t gotten very far in over a week of snooping around.  So far all he knew was that everyone he was working with seemed to want to get ahead by doing away with their competition.  Moving across the room to the fireplace, Joe spread out on his bedroll keeping his hand on his Colt, just in case.

The giant asks Pa for a favor.

Ben Cartwright was surprised to have such a late-night visitor.  Adam and Hoss had already turned in for the evening and he was just about to follow suit when he heard the knocking at the front door.

“Can I help you?” Ben asked as he looked up at the rather large man standing there on the porch.,”

“Mister Cartwright, I’ve come to talk to you about your son Joe,” The man replied as Ben led him inside.

Staring over at the stranger, Ben’s face filled with concern.  He never knew who was on which side of the law lately.

Noticing the apprehension on his host’s face, the man nodded over at him and smiled.  “I realize you’re waiting for a certain word — October.”

Ben sighed and shook the man’s outstretched hand.  “Thank you for that.”

“I go by the name Charlie Kincaid; you’ve probably heard that I like to fight in the Silver Dollar Saloon.

“I see,” Ben nodded.  “How is the boy?  Have you heard anything?”

“He hasn’t been harmed — but he might be up against the odds right now – and he’s going to need some help.”

“What kind of help— anything that I can do?” Ben asked as he led the man over to sit down on the settee.

“Yes, it’s not going to be easy, but we could use your help, Mister Cartwright.  Let me tell you what we’d like you to do,” Charlie began to explain to Ben what he needed him to do to protect his son’s cover story.

Wait – you want me to shoot WHO?

The following day Joe had been given the task of riding point for the wagon loaded with the stolen rifles.  He was aware of what cargo he had been loading and guarding for over a week.  Mister Pierce wanted to have scouts placed in front and behind the large, covered wagon as it made its way to the drop-off site just north of Lake Tahoe.  Gant had been instructed to follow behind the wagon and Joe was told to ride three miles in front of it just in case someone would get nosey and tried to see what they were hauling.

Standing in his stirrups, Joe looked down at the pond just to the west of the route that they’d be taking.  He spied a man leaned towards the water and there was something familiar about him, so Joe grabbed his canteen and dismounted.  He eased down to the water’s edge and knelt next to the stranger.  It was then that he recognized the man who had fought with him in the Silver Dollar Saloon, Charlie Kincaid.

“Nice day,” Charlie whispered to Joe.

“Yeah, real nice – unless there’s people behind you who wouldn’t flinch about killing you,” Joe answered and leaned the canteen down into the water to fill it.

“I’ve not got long to talk, Joe.  Here,” he said and handed Joe a handful of bullets.

Joe held the cartridges in his gloved left hand and stared over at the other man.  “These are blanks – what’s going on?”

“We’ve heard some rumors about some of your new friends.  One of our men overheard two of them talking in the saloon the other night and it sounds as though they’re going to challenge your loyalty.  Put those in your gun.  You’re going to run into your father at some point today.  When you get the chance, use those.’

“Huh?” Joe asked very confused.  “You think I’m gonna shoot my pa?”

“He’s aware of the situation.  Just point your gun a bit to the left of his right side just under his ribcage,” Charlie instructed and stood hastily.

Joe stood and tried to follow the other man.  He grabbed his arm, spinning him around.  “I know they’re blanks but they could still hurt him if I have to shoot him up close!” Joe protested.

“It’ll be fine, just don’t get too close when you shoot, and like I said, you’re aiming to his right side, just point a bit over to the left so even what little bit of wadding inside the blanks won’t hit him. It will sound and look just like you got him with a real bullet.  Fire two of them as we’ve got it all set up that he’s taken two hits.  Trust me, I’ve done this sort of thing before.  Your father will be fine and he’s already standing by waiting for you to show up.  Now what road is the shipment using?  We could tell that you’ve been heading towards Tahoe all day.”

“The Geiger Road we aren’t using the Mill Road because it’s more travelled,” Joe returned, still concerned by what he had heard Charlie tell him.

“Good, how soon are you going to report back?”

“I was only supposed to go out about three miles, so I was planning on heading back until I spotted you.”

“Well, you best get going.  You’ll see your father’s horse and just approach him.  Take your shot and if you have to check him make it quick and get out of there.”

“But –,” Joe began but the man hurried away leaving him standing there alone.

Joe stared at the bullets in his hand.  He couldn’t believe what he had been told to do.  But he sure wasn’t going to have live rounds in his gun if it was true that his father was going to show up somewhere that day.  Carefully Joe shucked the six bullets out of his Colt and replaced each one with a blank.  He hurried up the embankment and mounted Cochise.   His stomach churned over what was going to lie ahead down the road. Kicking at the sides of his horse Joe continued down the path towards where he’d meet back up with Pierce and his henchmen.

R.J. gets suspicious and Little Joe’s “blank” stare.

Pierce rode alongside the wagon carrying the weapons and signaled the driver to pull up.

“Let’s wait on Gant and Joe to report in,” He called over to the driver and the other two men riding on either side of the wagon.  “We’ll just stay put until they get here.”

R.J. and Vester dismounted and moved over next to their boss.

“I still say that I don’t trust Cartwright!” R.J. said hotly as he looked at Pierce.  “How do we know if he’s legitimate?”

Pierce shook his head and laughed, “You’ve had it out for him ever since you met the kid.  I haven’t noticed anything suspicious about Joe and Gant trusts him.  That’s good enough for me.”

“He’s been a rich boy all of his life, I find it hard to believe he’d give up that cushy life for this kind of work,” R.J. continued.  “Vester doesn’t trust the kid either, right?”

Vester shrugged his shoulders and remarked, “I can’t say, I’ve not seen anything odd in his behavior so far – but I wouldn’t turn my back on him either.  He’s quick with that gun!”

Gant rode up and dismounted, tying his reins to the back of the wagon.  “Nobody around, at least not within three miles of us,” he said.

“Good, we’re just waiting on Joe now,” Pierce nodded over to Gant.

“Yeah, your little buddy is late,” R.J. sneered over at Gant.

Gant spun around to look at the other man.  “Will you get off his back?  He’s not an enemy he’s a coworker.”

“You went to school with the kid, but you’ve not seen him for years.  How do you know he’s really with us?”

“How do you know he’s not?” Gant challenged the other man.

Before R.J. could reply Joe came into view.  He rode over to the other men and dismounted.

“See anyone, Joe?” Pierce asked as he approached him.

“No – not a soul.  It’s all clear,” he responded and then noticed that it seemed as though he had walked into a tense situation.  The men standing around all stared at Joe.  “Anything wrong?”

“No – just wondering how you did,” Pierce replied and cast a warning glance at the other men.

“Looks like I interrupted something,” Joe returned as he watched the looks on R.J. and Vester’s faces.

“Yeah, you did.  We were wondering about you and why you gave up that easy life of being a Cartwright,” R.J. said, not paying any attention to what Pierce had said earlier.

Joe stared at each man and then his hand went down to his gun.  “You have a problem with me then let’s go take care of it.”

“That’s not necessary, Joe.  We don’t need to fight amongst ourselves,” Pierce interceded and patted Joe’s arm.

*** Thank goodness – since I’ve got nothing but blanks in my gun! *** Joe thought to himself.  He was glad that he didn’t have to go up against R.J. at the time.

“Let’s all get a little grub and then we’ll head on over to the north shore of the lake and meet our contact.  Come on over to the back of the wagon,” Pierce directed his men, hoping to get everyone to cool down.

R.J. frowned but followed his boss to get some food into him.  He made sure to always keep Joe Cartwright in his sight.  The six men walked to the back of the wagon to eat some lunch before heading to the drop off spot.

Still not much of a mustache, Joseph.

On the way to meet up with their contact and turn their shipment over to him the six men headed out a short time later.  Joe was told to ride side by side with R.J. and to keep ahead of the wagon a good distance to make sure that no-one showed up unexpectedly.  It was Pierce’s way of trying to get them to talk and maybe settle down.  Vester and Gant brought up the rear while Pierce rode alongside the wagon.  They had journeyed close to ten miles and were only a few miles from their arranged meeting place when Joe’s eye caught on his father’s buckskin horse just down a steep embankment.

“Hey lookie there!” R.J. exclaimed as he pointed his finger down the hill.  “I think your daddy showed up at a strange time.  How about I take care of him since you don’t care about your pa anymore?”

Joe pulled out his Colt and sneered over at R.J.  “You think I care about him?  Let me show you how much I do – and settle this once and for all!” Joe stated angrily and sent Cochise off in a gallop.  He hurried down the hill trying his best to keep the other man away so his pa wouldn’t be hit by a real bullet.

Joe’s heart was in his throat as he took aim at his father.  He knew that he had only blanks inside of his gun but just the thought of shooting at the one person who he loved more than his own life sent shivers up his spine.  He aimed at Ben who was sitting on Buck and sent off two bullets from his gun.  He watched as Pa fell from his saddle and lay lifelessly on the ground.  Joe cast a quick glance up at R.J. to see if he was advancing and was relieved that he was still sitting exactly where he had left him up on the trail.  Keenly aware that the other man was watching his every move, Joe approached his father and jumped from Cochise.  He went down to one knee as he hovered over his pa, blocking the sight of the man’s face with his own body.

There was blood all over the right side of his father’s body and for a minute Joe felt like he was going to faint.  There were also two well placed bullet holes in the coat that Pa wore, and Joe wondered if the bullets had been real, and he had somehow been double crossed by Charlie.

“Hello, Joseph, nice to see you,” Ben whispered, his eyes still closed and his body unmoving.  When his son failed to say anything in response, he peeked his eyes open briefly and could read the fear very evident on Joe’s face.  “It’s only deer blood, Son.  Oh, Charlie said for you to take my billfold.  It’s in the pocket just above where you shot your poor old pa.”

Joe sighed, so relieved that his father was really alright.  He turned when he thought he heard R.J. approaching.  “Don’t move, Pa – I’m gonna get him away from here.  No more taking risks either – I’ve got this.”

“Be careful, Boy,” Ben whispered again, while glancing up briefly one final time as Joe made the move to get the wallet out of his coat.  “The mustache still needs some work, Joseph,” he quipped and then quickly closed his eyes again.  He fought back a smile after he spotted the way Joe had grinned after hearing his pa’s remark.  Ben was just happy to see his youngest, if only briefly, because he hadn’t seen him for more than two weeks.

Joe grabbed the billfold which had two bullet holes in it and was covered in blood.  He waved it in the air so R.J. could see what he had been after.  Joe hurriedly mounted Cochise and turned towards the man coming down the hill.

“Let’s get the heck out of here!” Joe shouted as he met the other man halfway up the hill.

“Is the old man dead?” R.J. asked, still shocked that the kid had shot Ben Cartwright.

“I didn’t check for a pulse I just took his wallet.  No sense letting good money go to waste,” Joe called over to him.

“I gotta give it to you, Kid – I didn’t think you were legit – but if you could do that to Cartwright well – I guess you really don’t care about what you gave up!”

Joe laughed and pulled his horse to a halt briefly.  He opened the wallet and there was now blood all over his hands which R.J. could plainly see.  Joe took the cash out of it and then tossed it down to the ground.  “I got my back pay that the old skinflint owed me! Now let’s get going – we’ve got to tell Pierce about it.”

R.J. nodded to Joe and the two of them rode to get to the wagon and to inform their boss about what had happened.

So, you killed your pa, huh?

Pierce took in the information that both R.J. and Joe had given as soon as they met up with the wagon.  He looked over at Joe surprised to see that the kid appeared to be much more concerned with counting the money he had stolen from his father than the fact that he had shot the man.  Pierce also noticed the good amount of blood that was all over Joe’s hands.

“Did you kill him?” Gant asked as he drew closer to the three men.

“Don’t exactly know,” Joe said calmly as he tucked the money back inside of his jacket and then wiped the remaining blood on his pants.  “He was bleeding pretty good after I plugged him twice.  Guess we’ll know if they announce a funeral in the paper.”

R.J. looked at Pierce and Gant and just shrugged his shoulders.  “I heard two gunshots, and the man was on the ground.  Joe just got the money and met up with me.  I never saw Ben Cartwright move – he might’ve been killed or might have died after we left.”

“See anyone else?” Pierce asked Joe.

“He was probably heading to the mill – nobody was with him.  He won’t be missed for a while so we’re good.  And we should be in the clear just as long as we’re going by way of the Geiger Road like we planned.”

“Yeah, once we meet at the drop off, we’ll be getting rid of this wagon and leaving by horseback.  I don’t think we’ll have any problems,” R.J. added.

“Okay, Gentlemen, let’s proceed,” Pierce announced, and the men swung back into their saddles.

Joe was the last one to mount up, pretending he was getting a drink from his canteen.  He took a minute to rid himself of the remaining blanks and in their place inserted six live rounds.  He hurriedly caught up with the wagon, and the entourage continued their trek to the north shore of Lake Tahoe.

Blood money and a proposition for more.

The day had been an exhausting one for Joe Cartwright.  They had met up with two men, one who was very clearly in charge.  Joe was surprised when Pierce had introduced him to a man named Flynn O’ Leary who was obviously at least one of the men responsible for all the gun-running that they’d all been involved with.  After the exchange of money all the men had headed out and rode a good twenty miles before coming to a new location to settle for the night.  Most of the men ate their meals and then simply drank some whiskey and went to sleep.  Joe, however, spent his time sitting in the old, abandoned cabin and talking with Pierce.

“So that man O’Leary – does he happen to be one of the men you’d like to replace?” Joe asked as he leaned back in his chair and lit his cigarette.

“You’re quick, Boy,” Pierce said smiling.  “If I can get a promotion then we’d all get a lot more money than we took in today.  Did you get a real good look at him?”

Joe nodded, “Oh, yeah, I did – and he seemed a bit slow to me.  Not the type I’d have any problem taking care of if there’s money in it for me.”

“Well, I tell you, Joe – I can pretty much guarantee a one-hundred-dollar bonus for you if the next time we meet up with him you take him out.  If you can catch him off guard – but he’s always got that other man with him.  You might have to take out the both of them.”

Joe grinned and nodded over at Pierce.  “I won’t have a problem doing that – if you were to keep them busy talking.  But why haven’t you offered this job to R.J.?  I thought he was your main hired gun?”

“R.J. is fast but he’s not trustworthy.  He might get the idea to take my place once I get to be one of the men in charge.”

“Well – how about it if I get two of them – that I get a little more than a hundred — say the first man is one hundred and the other is fifty?  How about it?” Joe asked.

Pierce laughed and replied, “Joe, you sure are trying to get money fast now, aren’t you?”

Joe nodded and then reached into his jacket and pulled out the money he had gotten out of Ben Cartwright’s billfold.  “I had hoped he had more on him — but I only got a measly fifty dollars.  I’m gonna need more before I can get myself to New Orleans.”

Pierce reached over and patted Joe’s arm and smiled, “I see it doesn’t bother you that there happens to be Ben Cartwright’s blood on some of that money?”

“Why in the Hell should it?” Joe retorted angrily.  “He disowned me after smacking me in public.  He owed me a lot more than this.  And nobody asks questions when you hand them money even if it’s a bit red.”

Pierce stood and put his hand down onto Joe’s shoulder.  “Tomorrow, we meet up with the other man who oversees acquiring our merchandise.  I’ll introduce you to him as well.”

Joe grinned up at Pierce and said, “Is that somebody you want me to take care of too?”

Pierce shook his head and returned, “No, he’s vital to our operation – he’s got what we need to keep this business going.  He has all the right contacts.  So don’t take him – we need the crates he’s going to give us.  They’ll be in a buckboard this time and then we’ll load it all into a covered wagon just like the first shipment you handled.”

“Sounds good – well – I guess I’ll go do what the other men are doing – and get some shut-eye,” Joe announced as he stood.

“Joe?” Pierce said and he stared pensively into the young man’s eyes.  “It really didn’t bother you at all to kill Ben Cartwright?”

“Nope,” Joe grinned and walked over to the fireplace and settled down onto his bedroll.

Pierce laughed and replied, “Remind me never to get you mad, Kid.  See you in the morning.”  Pierce walked over to one of the bunks to lay down.

Joe moved onto his side so that he was staring into the flames in the fireplace.  He wished he was home and sitting in the living room next to the only fireplace he wanted to see at the time.  But his mood was lighter now that he knew that he’d soon have the exact information that Colonel McMasters had asked him to get.  That would mean that his job and his charade would be over very soon.  He closed his eyes and thought about going home.  He couldn’t wait.

John Smith reappears bearing news.

At daybreak the following day there was a visitor at the cabin where Pierce and his crew were just getting up and readying to meet up with their supplier of weapons.  Joe sat up on his bedroll and looked over at the door where Pierce was speaking to the man who had bailed him out of jail, John Smith.

“So, what’s new in Virginia City?” Pierce asked as he led the man into the cabin and offered him a cup of coffee.

John looked over at the kid getting up next to the fireplace.  “Joe, this might just be of interest to you.”

Joe walked over to the small table where the two men now sat and poured himself a cup of coffee.  “Yeah? What?”

“I was listening in to some of the gossip in town and it seems that your father was shot yesterday.”

Joe grinned and replied, “Oh?  I wonder who would do a mean thing like that?  He’s dead, right?”

“No, but he’s in a coma and the doctor doesn’t think he’s going to make it.  I heard that there aren’t any clues to who shot him down.  Seems like your father was heading up to that mill you have and when he didn’t show your brother Hoss found him.  He’s not come around either – so I guess whoever shot him is in the clear.  The sheriff rode out to where Hoss found him, and they didn’t find any clues.”

“That’s good, I told you I got him twice, Pierce,” Joe stated calmly and sat down at the table.

Pierce stared over at Joe and shook his head.  He had never seen anyone who could kill their own father and just act as if it had been simply a routine thing that he had done.

“John, are you going out with us today to get the new shipment?” Pierce asked, getting back to business.

“You have enough men, so I guess I’ll stay here and get some rest for a change.  I’ll be here to help you men when you come back with the merchandise.  You get the money without any problem yesterday?”

Pierce smiled and nodded.  “Yes, and all in gold this time.  I think perhaps we have two more shipments and then we’ll move to another location.”

“Sounds good.  When are you moving out?” Smith asked.

“Just as soon as we can get the horses ready.  It’s going to take all day to get to the meet up spot we chose.  Dixon was a bit jumpy the last time, so he wants to meet about five miles from the fort this time,” He explained.

Joe tried to act casually but inside he had qualms over the information which Pierce had offered.  He wondered why a fort was mentioned.  There were two that he knew of which would be within a day’s ride from their current location.  He had been told by Colonel McMasters that the Henry rifles were stolen before they could get to Fort Churchill.  They only knew that somehow the shipments to the fort had never made it but not how or who was doing it.  Now Joe had the name of someone named Dixon and he hoped that it wasn’t an alias so he could pass that information onto the colonel and maybe that would be enough to help him go back to his former life.   But he couldn’t just disappear until he saw the face that went with the name which should help break the case and resolve the issue once and for all.  For the sake of Jennifer and all who had been killed by the renegades Joe hoped that would be the result of his deception.

“Joe, will you go and help with the horses?  We’d all better get ready to head out,” Pierce asked turning to him.

“Sure,” Joe nodded and stood from the table and walked across the cabin and outside to mount up.

“You really trust that kid?”

“Yes, why?  Don’t you?” Pierce questioned.

Smith shrugged his shoulders and answered, “Well, if he’s cold enough to shoot his own father I’d sure keep my eyes on him.”

“I intend to do just that,” Pierce nodded and finished his coffee.  “You just stay put and we’ll see you sometime tomorrow.  Then we’ll go get that covered wagon and make another run.”

John poured himself another cup of coffee and nodded to the other man.

McMasters smells a rat.

Colonel McMasters looked at the duty rosters to see who was present at Fort Churchill that day.  He had spent time going between Fort Churchill and Fort McDermit.  Both were having trouble receiving shipments of the new Henry rifles and he’d done his best to get to the bottom of the dilemma.  He had reached out to the Cartwright family, particularly Joe Cartwright, to get some outside help.  Colonel McMasters had kept a close eye on how the boy was doing and Charlie Kincaid had done a good job thus far in reporting in on Joe’s comings and goings.  There was still a strange feeling in the pit of McMasters stomach, something that just didn’t feel right.  He had spoken to the ordnance Sergeant, Earnest Dixon to try and ascertain how many rifles had gone missing both in shipping and what they had received several months ago.  The sergeant was upset over what was happening and offered his services every time a shipment had been delivered and was found to contain nothing but rocks inside each crate instead of new Henry rifles.

A young man in his early twenties knocked on the door to Colonel McMasters office.

“Yes, Private Jennings?” He asked, as he met the private and returned his salute.

“You asked me to bring Sergeant Dixon to you, but he had to go into town Corporal Winters just told me.”

“Did he put in his leave before he left?”

“Yes, Sir.  That’s what Corporal Winters said, he’d put in for it earlier in the week.”

The colonel nodded and walked back to his desk.  “Please tell the sergeant I want to see him as soon as he gets back.”

Private Jennings saluted the colonel and replied, “I will, Sir.”

“That’ll be all,” Colonel McMasters nodded to the young man and then returned his salute as he walked out of the door.

He thought for a few seconds and jumped up from his desk and walked across the room and opened his door again.  “Private Jennings!” He sang out to the departing private.

“Yes, Colonel?”

“Get me Corporal Winters right away.  And tell him I want to see all the records for any leave that has been granted for anyone at this fort in the last two months!”

“Yes, Sir!” The private returned and saluted.  He hurried down the hall to give the corporal the message.

Time to send for the Cartwrights.

Later that afternoon Colonel McMasters and Corporal Winters were starting to get a bad feeling.  They had poured over all the leave requests along with the dates on which the shipments of Henry rifles had been delivered.   They also questioned the men who had viewed the rifles that had been stolen from the fort before they had gone missing and the shipments that had come to the fort containing only rocks.  It appears the weapons went missing right after a delivery of foodstuffs arrived at the fort.  It seemed too coincidental that two wagons had come and gone and each time rifles were missing or had never been delivered in the first place.  They also learned that Sergeant Dixon had been the only one who had uncrated the rifles, always insisting it was his job, and only his to inspect the shipments of rifles as they arrived.

“If my suspicions are correct, Corporal, this means that our ordnance sergeant has been behind the missing rifles right from the beginning.  He’s requested leave almost every single time a shipment has had issues.  I never would’ve suspected Dixon!  He’s been a faithful soldier for twenty-five years.  But if he’s been doing this the whole time, it was planned very well.  He opens the shipments then switches the rifles and puts rocks inside the crates to account for their weight.  Then when the delivery of our rations comes, he somehow moves the rifles onto the food supply wagon.  Then the driver of the supply wagon must meet up with the sergeant at some point and they take it somewhere, later delivering the rifles to whoever is trading with the renegades,” McMasters said.

“Colonel, that means that he’s also privy to some of the conversations that have gone on around here.  The other day I saw him right outside your door when you were speaking to the man who’s been going by the name Charlie Kincaid.  Doesn’t that put Joe Cartwright in danger?”

Colonel McMasters’ face grew pale after hearing what the corporal had said.  “I need to send a wire immediately.  We’re going to need more help, and we must try to get to Joe Cartwright before he comes face to face with the sergeant.  If Dixon’s out there getting ready to drop off more rifles and he sees Joe, then the boy’s cover is blown, and he could get killed!  I’ll write the message out and send it to Ben Cartwright in Virginia City.”

“Yes, Sir,” The corporal said as he watched the colonel composing the wire.

Pa, Little Joe’s in trouble. AKA Big surprise there.

Ben Cartwright had hidden from everyone other than his two sons there at the ranch due to the information that was passed on the previous day.  He had been given permission to bring Doctor Paul Martin in on what was going on due to the fact he’d need the man’s help.  Doc had been told what to say once he’d gotten back into Virginia City.  He had made sure to spread the news that Ben was in a coma and not expected to live.  Ben had deemed it wise just in case the men who were with Joseph got a bit too inquisitive.  He still couldn’t tell Roy Coffee but Hoss had taken care of him by leading him on a wild goose chase so there wouldn’t be any sign of what had gone on with Joe the previous day.

“Pa!” Hoss shouted as he burst into the house.

“What’s the shouting for?” Ben asked as he stood from his desk and approached his middle boy.

“Got this telegram while I was in town and headed right home.  Adam is saddling Buck.  Joe’s in trouble and we need to hurry out towards Fort Churchill right now!” Hoss exclaimed and handed his father the piece of paper.

Ben studied it and jogged to the front door to get his holster and hat.  “Let’s ride!” He shouted and hurried out of the house with Hoss in tow.

A conversation between friends.  AKA Joe tells a big lie for effect.

Joe rode side by side with his old friend Gant as they journeyed to their appointed spot to receive the new shipment of pilfered Henry’s.  He cast a glance at the other man, and he felt a bit sorry for him.  Joe hoped that Gant wouldn’t have to serve too much time in prison for what he had done.  Gant just had a rough start in life and Joe knew that if he’d had the kind of family that Joe did then maybe things would’ve been different.  Colonel McMasters just happened to see Gant one day leaving Genoa and noticed that the man was carrying a brand-new Henry rifle in his scabbard.  That had started the wheels turning in the colonel’s brain and he had done some digging and found out about Gant and his past life.  Once he had learned that Joe and Gant went way back, and that Joe had also known Jennifer Harding and her husband Steve he had devised a plan for him to help them in tracking the men involved with the theft.  Joe had jumped at the chance to help the colonel and to try and get closure for Jennifer’s death.  Now he felt just a tad guilty.  Gant hadn’t always been bad, but now he was dealing stolen rifles, and they were being used by the same renegades who had killed the girl he had carried a torch for since he was in school.

“You look a million miles away, Joe,” Gant remarked, smiling over at his friend.

“Oh?” Joe replied and tried to change his expression to a happier one.  “I guess you caught me thinking about New Orleans, Gant.”

“I figured you were thinking about your pa.  You looked a bit glum, Joe.”

Joe laughed over at the other man.  “Come on I told you what he did to me.  He deserved what he got!  Heck, my former brothers are probably already dividing up their inheritance!”

“It really doesn’t bother you?”

“Gant, if it bothered me, I wouldn’t have done it.  I’m fine.” Joe smiled.

“You sure aren’t the kid I remembered, Joe.  You and your pa were really tight back then, you know?”

Joe frowned and stared over at Gant.  “If the two of us were tight I doubt he would’ve backhanded me in public!   My whole life he’s continually tried to make me into another Adam or Hoss too.”

“Yeah – I heard all of that.  You know my adoptive father used to smack me around too.  That’s why I ended up on the streets.”

“I remember,” Joe nodded sympathetically.  “Guess we’re alike in that respect.  My pa was really good at playing the role of a loving father — that is — to the outside world!  But what nobody else got to see was the way he used to hit me whenever he just wanted to work off some steam.  And he would warn me exactly what would happen to me if I ever told anyone back then, so I didn’t.  No, there was never much of a difference between your adoptive pa and mine, other than mine hid what he was doing to me from everyone.  I guess that’s why I always liked you — I could relate to how you were feeling, we had the same upbringing.  I say good riddance to them both.  It’s time to move on and enjoy my life.   Hey, maybe you’d like New Orleans?  You want to go with me once I get my grub stake?”

“We’ll see – I’m not sure where I’ll end up,” Gant replied smiling.

***I know where you’re going to end up.  I just hope that you don’t face the noose! *** Joe thought to himself.  “How much further until we get to the place we’re meeting up with the supplier?”

“Oh, I’d say about another two hours,” Gant nodded over to Joe.

“Good I’m getting tired,” Joe answered trying to fight the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach.  He felt like his job would be coming to an end real soon and he hated that it would mean turning on Gant.  But the man had to be punished for his part in the deaths of so many people including Jennifer.  Joe kicked Cochise’s sides and picked up the pace.

Who’s shooting at us?  AKA who isn’t shooting at us?

As Ben Cartwright and his two older sons were riding hard towards Fort Churchill to meet Colonel McMasters, Joe and his new co-workers were making camp waiting for their shipment to be delivered.  Pierce knelt next to the campfire and readied the coffee to stay the early fall’s chill.  He expected Sergeant Dixon to arrive soon but knew that his men needed to get coffee into them before one of them did something foolish like take out a bottle of whiskey.

“It’s ready, Men, come and get a cup,” Pierce called across the camp.

Joe and Gant stepped forward and accepted the first two cups.

“Thanks,” Joe nodded down to Pierce.  “It’s getting cold out here.”

“Well, you’ll warm up just as soon as that gets inside of you,” Pierce smiled up at Joe.

“Any idea when Dixon will get here with the wagon?” Gant asked as he sipped his coffee and stepped aside for the other men to get their drinks.

“He’s usually pretty prompt – he said to expect him before midnight and it’s just eleven now,” Pierce said as he cast a glance at his pocket watch.

R.J. and Vester settled down on their bedrolls with their coffee and looked up at Joe and Gant.

“You seem a bit antsy, Joe,” R.J. commented.

Joe laughed and replied, “Antsy?  What would I have to be antsy about?  We’re just picking up supplies not a shipment of gold.”

“It will be gold once we get it traded off with O’Leary,” Vester nodded over at R.J. smiling.

The five men heard a wagon heading in their direction and they all stood, drawing their guns in case it wasn’t Sergeant Dixon.  Soon the buckboard came into view pulling behind it a saddle horse.  It came to a halt right next to the camp.

“Relax, Joe, it’s our contact,” Gant said as he noticed the tight grip his friend held on his Colt.

Joe nodded and holstered his weapon.  “Can’t be too sure, you know?” He smiled.

Sergeant Dixon wasn’t dressed in his uniform, and no one had mentioned that he was a soldier, only giving his last name to Joe.  But he spied the McClellan saddle that was mounted on the horse that had been pulled behind the buckboard as well as the Wellington boots that Dixon had on.  Joe figured that Dixon had to be a traitor, and he was evidently working out of Fort Churchill right under the nose of Colonel McMasters.

“You’re early for a change,” Pierce said as he shook the man’s outstretched hand.

“Have to be back to the barracks by morning,” Dixon said and then cast a glance around the camp.   He looked warily at the young man wearing the green jacket.

Pierce had noticed the way the sergeant was staring at Joe, and he called over to him.  “Joe, come here there’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

Joe walked closer to the two men and looked directly at the sergeant.

“This is our new man, Joe Cartwright.  Joe this is Ernest Dixon.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Joe,” Dixon said and reached out his hand to shake with him.

“You too,” Joe said and tried his best not to show his distrust of the man as he returned the handshake.

“So—you get all that you said you could for us?” Pierce was right back to business.

“Just about.  Come over here I need to show you how these are packed a little differently this time,” Dixon replied and walked to the back of the wagon followed by Pierce.

“Pretend that we’re just talking about the rifles,” Sergeant Dixon whispered getting close to the other man.  “That new man of yours, he’s a plant.  I heard his name when I was eavesdropping on McMasters the other day.  I didn’t hear the whole conversation but enough of it to know that Cartwright over there is working with the colonel.”

“Are you sure?” Pierce asked as quietly as he could.

Dixon nodded and moved some wooden boxes around in the bed of the wagon to make it look as though they were studying the shipment.

Pierce began to pull out his Colt, but Dixon’s hand fell on his arm.  “Not until the others are out of the way,” He warned.

Joe hadn’t missed the way that Pierce and Dixon’s conversation seemed a bit more muted than it should have been.  He casually walked over to his horse after telling Gant he was going to get a bottle of whiskey from his saddlebags.

It was then that all Hell broke loose.  R.J. noticed the gun in Pierce’s hand and that he was looking directly at Joe who had his back turned at the time.  Vester jumped up and got out of the way before the first bullet rang out.  It hadn’t been from Pierce’s gun but from outside the camp somewhere.  Every man inside the camp dove for cover, including Joe Cartwright.  He found himself under the buckboard along with Gant.

“Who’s shooting at us?” Gant asked Joe.

Joe, pistol in hand, pointed it at Gant and replied.  “I think I know.  Hand me your gun, I don’t want them to kill you.”

Gant stared at Joe hard and then read something strange in his eyes.  “Joe?  Joe, don’t tell me you’re a rat?  Joe, we were friends!”

“I’m sorry, but what you and your new friends have been doing has killed a lot of people, Gant.  Now hand it over and I’ll make sure you get out of here alive.”

Gant was about to hand his gun over when he somehow flipped it around and sent a bullet from it which barely missed hitting Joe.  Gant dove away from the wagon with Joe in hot pursuit as more gunfire erupted around the camp along with the shouts from Colonel McMasters for everyone to surrender.

Pierce waved over to R.J. to take a shot at Joe to save Gant, but he missed.  Joe went down to the ground and returned R.J.’s fire, shooting him in the arm.  Then he ran after Gant, finally catching up with him.

“Drop it!” Joe yelled over to his former friend.

Gant turned around and stared into Joe’s eyes and said, “Take me if you can, Joe, because I ain’t going to prison.”

“Don’t make me do this,” Joe returned, hoping he wouldn’t have to gun the man down.

Gant made the move and just as Joe aimed his Colt, a hail of bullets rang out.  Instead of Gant being shot, Joe collapsed onto the ground.  Gant was hit by a bullet right after his former friend fell.  He ended up on the cold hard ground next to Joe.  Joe stared into the other man’s eyes right before unconsciousness took him away.  Gant was already dead.

The melee that ensued was full of confusion and a steady hail of bullets sent out in all directions.  By the time the camp grew deathly quiet, two men lay dead and two were injured. R.J. had a crease to his arm, but Pierce and Gant were dead, and Joe Cartwright was seriously wounded.  Colonel McMasters sent his two soldiers to check on the casualties just as Ben, Hoss, and Adam Cartwright arrived on the scene.

“Joseph!” Ben shouted as he hurriedly dismounted and headed over to the fallen boy.  Hoss and Adam quickly moved over to their father’s side as he checked Joe for injuries.

“How is he, Pa?” Hoss asked even though he knew Ben hadn’t had time to inspect the wound yet.

Ben lifted his son’s head, bracing it with his left hand while the fingers of his other hand tried to locate where the boy had been hit.  “Joseph?  Joe – can you hear me?”

A soft moan escaped Joe’s lips, his eyes trying to home in on his father’s face.  “Pa?  Pa – I – I,” Joe couldn’t finish his statement.  His eyes rolled back inside of his head, and he passed out cold.

With his fingers trembling as they touched the warmth of fresh blood which had begun to seep from his son’s jacket, Pa’s face paled.  “Stay with me, Joseph – stay with me.  Your Pa’s here – I’m here,” He pleaded, praying that somewhere in the recesses of the boy’s mind he would hear his father’s voice and respond in some way.  Ben looked up into the faces of his two older boys.

“Bring me a lantern!” Ben shouted and then noticed Colonel McMasters’ approach.

“I’m sorry, Mister Cartwright, by the time we got here it was already too late.  Joe got caught up in it all,” The colonel apologized as a private came forward carrying a lantern.

“We need to get this boy to a doctor right now!” Ben demanded.

“We’ll unload the wagon, Pa,” Hoss insisted, and he and Adam began to jettison everything out of the buckboard which contained the stolen rifles.

“Men, help the Cartwrights get this wagon emptied.  Two of you stand guard on the prisoners and the rest of you get to this immediately!” McMasters ordered.

Within a few minutes the buckboard was freed of all cargo and Joe Cartwright was carefully spread out in the back.  Ben climbed in with his injured son, relinquishing his horse to Hoss’ care.  He pulled his son’s head into his lap and continued to talk to Joe, even though he was beyond hearing.  Pa couldn’t help noticing how pale the boy was, far too pale.

“Here, Pa,” Adam called to his father and handed him a shirt from his saddlebags.  “Use it for the wound, it’s clean,” he said as he handed Hoss his reins and climbed up to drive the wagon.

Ben pushed back both sides of the corduroy jacket and hastily unbuttoned Joe’s shirt.  The lantern having been placed alongside of him lent way to the sight of his son’s bullet wound.  He pressed the shirt Adam had given him down onto Joe’s stomach where the pattern of blood was spreading out like a bullseye.  Pa had to keep pressure on the wound until his son was in a doctor’s care.  He knew that Joe was losing too much blood and he needed immediate surgery to remove the bullet or he would succumb to his injury.

“Take him to the fort,” McMasters called over to Adam.  “It’s the closest place to get him medical care right now.  My men will handle the prisoners and the deceased.  Follow me!” He exclaimed and mounted his horse to lead the way.

Ben bent forward and stared down at his youngest.  “Three days – Joseph – your birthday is in just three days.  You stay with me – you hear me, Boy?  I can’t lose you — you promised me you’d be careful.  Joseph, please don’t leave me, I need you!  You did everything that you set out to do—well everything except getting yourself shot.  But you’re going to be okay, Son, you have to be,” he whispered as tears welled up in his eyes.

“We have a very good medic,” McMasters called down from his horse to Ben.

“Just tell me – tell me – that this wasn’t all a waste,” Pa returned, so worried that his youngest might die from his injury that his hands shook as he pressed the shirt Adam had given him down onto the wound to ebb the flow of blood.

“It wasn’t — we’ve already got the main culprit and he’s alive.” McMasters reassured the grieved father.

“My son better live too,” Ben insisted, his face forming a scowl, so angry that the whole plan had somehow gone drastically awry.

Colonel McMasters couldn’t come up with any assurance that Joe would survive so he simply kicked at his horse’s sides and rode right ahead of Adam and Hoss.  It was a long five miles back to Fort Churchill.

Mister Cartwright, has your son ever had surgery? AKA one of the stupidest questions ever.

Upon reaching the fort Colonel McMaster’s sprung down from his horse and barked orders at some of the soldiers who stood waiting just outside of the barracks.

“Take this young man out of the wagon and get him inside to the medic.”

Ben heard what the colonel had said but he wasn’t going to listen.  He climbed down from the buckboard and pulled Joe into his arms and walked into the courtyard.

“Just lead me to him,” Ben announced sharply.  He wasn’t about to have any other soldiers touch his son.   He had allowed the army to watch over his boy, and the result of that decision was very evident in the fact that Joseph was unconscious, and bleeding held there in his arms.

“This way, Mister Cartwright,” McMasters instructed and walked just ahead of the grieved father, closely followed by Hoss and Adam.

The medical facility was sparsely furnished.  There was one examination table, a desk and a chair and only one bunk for patients.  Ben walked inside the room as a man jumped up from his chair hurrying over to the table.

“My son has been shot – he’s got a bullet in his stomach,” Ben called over to the man as he gently eased Little Joe down onto the examination table.

“Mister Cartwright, this is our medic William Hornsby,” McMasters made the introductions.

“Are you a physician?” Ben questioned bluntly.

William looked over at the colonel and then back to the father of his new patient.  “I’m a commissioned medical officer.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Ben frowned. “This boy needs surgery and I need to know if you’re qualified.  He’s my son – and I need the best right now – to save his life!”

“I’ve apprenticed with many doctors, Mister Cartwright, and I’ve removed a lot of bullets,” William tried his best to put the man at ease.

Ben stepped back and allowed the man to examine Joe.  He moved to the other side of the table and swept his hand over his son’s forehead.  “He’s feverish.”

William inspected the bullet wound and checked Joe’s pulse and lifted his eyelids one by one.  “That means his body is still fighting, Sir.  I need to get set up to remove the bullet.  Colonel, will you get Stevens here to assist me?  I need boiling water from the cookhouse – if you can have someone fetch it for me, I’d appreciate it.”

“Adam – Hoss – see if you can help, please – we need to get to this quickly,” Ben said to his sons.

McMasters stepped out of the room and waved the Cartwright boys down the hall to show them the way to the cookhouse.  He also flagged over a private and ordered him to go rouse the medic’s assistant and tell him to go help William with the surgery.

“I know you’re worried about your son, Mister Cartwright,” William addressed the man who stood at the head of the examination table never taking his hand off Joe.  “But I can assure you that I can remove a bullet as well as most doctors.”

Ben nodded to the man as he ran his fingers through Joseph’s hair which was already soaked with perspiration due to his mounting fever.  “I can appreciate that, but this is my son — my youngest – and I need to know that he’ll pull through the surgery.”

The medic sighed as he turned back to the basin and finished scrubbing his hands.  “No-one — not even the most well-trained doctor can promise something like that, Sir.  But I can promise you that I will do my very best to pull him through.”

The softness of Joe’s voice broke the mounting tension in the room.  “Pa?  Pa, where am I?” Joe asked weakly, his eyes squinting up at his father.

Ben bent closer to the table and reached for his son’s right hand, taking it into his own.  “You’re at the fort, Joseph.  You caught a bullet – but it’s going to be fine – just fine.”

Joe’s face scrunched up in pain and his left hand moved from his side and touched his stomach.  “Gut hurts, Pa,” He moaned.

The medic moved next to his patient and removed the boy’s hand from the wound.  “Easy we’re going to get that bullet out in just a minute,” William said.

“Pa?” Joe whispered as his eyes fell closed again.

Ben placed a callused palm against the boy’s right cheek and watched as Joe turned into the feel of it.  “Yes, Son?”

“Tired, Pa,” Joe’s voice came out in a soft whisper, his cheek seeking the security he could only find there in his father’s hand.  Moments later his body went limp as he fell back off into unconsciousness.

Both Ben and William made the same move at the very same moment.  They each took one of Joe’s wrists to check for a pulse; it was still there.

“It’s for the best, Mister Cartwright.  I don’t want to sedate him unless he begins to come back around.  If he does – well, there’s ether we can use.  Has your son ever had surgery?”

Ben shook his head over what the young medic had just asked.  *** Has Joseph had surgery? How many times now—I don’t know the exact count.  Maybe Paul does?  All I know is that this boy has had far too many injuries!  Oh, how I wish you were here, Doc! *** He thought to himself.

“Mister Cartwright?  Has he had surgery – ever had ether?” William asked once more when he failed to get a reply.

Nodding to the other man Pa said, “Joseph has had quite a few surgeries and yes he’s had ether before.”

“Any problem with it?”

Ben shook his head.  “It leaves him groggy for a while and he gets a bit sick to his stomach from what I recall.   But our family physician said that was normal.”

“He was right.  Hopefully we won’t need it, but I had to ask just in case he had some adverse reaction to it.”

“Well – thank you for that,” Ben replied, doing his very best to be cordial to the man who would soon be cutting on his boy.  He went back to softly combing his fingers through his son’s hair in the hopes that somewhere deep in his mind Joe would know that his pa was right next to him.  “You’re going to be okay, Son — just rest,” He whispered.

Hoss and Adam reappeared in the medical unit and brought with them two kettles filled with boiling water.  The medic showed them where to put the pots and then the assistant came into the room along with McMasters.

“Scrub up, Stevens,” William insisted and then turned to the Cartwrights.  “Gentlemen if you’ll all go out into the hall I will begin.”

Hoss and Adam both walked next to their brother, each man setting a hand down onto Joe.

“You’re going to be fine, Short Shanks,” Hoss whispered fighting back tears looking at his little brother.

“Yeah, Kid, you’ll be up and pestering us in no time.  It’s been too quiet at home without you – so you get well,” Adam said and patted his brother’s arm.

“This way,” McMasters waved the men to go out into the hall so the medic could get on with the surgery.

As soon as he watched his two sons walk out of the room Ben looked over at the medic and said, “Take care of my boy.”

“Yes, Sir,” William nodded to the man.

“I’ll be right outside, Joseph,” Ben whispered, bending down over the boy and placing a soft kiss on his brow.  “You’re going to be just fine, Son.”

Crestfallen and taking one final glance towards Joe, Ben joined his sons out in the hall.  The three men watched as the door closed blocking the sight of the boy who had fought so hard to help the army find the people who had caused so many deaths.  Heads bowed in prayer, they waited for word that Little Joe was going to pull through.

Goodbye, October.

William Hornsby held the scalpel in his hand and made the two-inch incision through the wound in order to better assist him in locating the bullet which had fallen Joe Cartwright.  His assistant held a hand full of cotton wadding and blotted the gush of fresh blood caused by the scalpel.  It was at that moment that Joe groaned and began to awaken.

“Get the ether,” William told the assistant and held the cotton temporarily over the gunshot wound, still blotting the increase in blood flow.

Corporal Mark Stevens walked over to the table and removed the mask and the bottle of ether and brought it over to the medic.  They settled the mask over Joe’s nose and for just a minute he suddenly became combative.  His left hand shot up and tried to pull the mask down.

“Joe – now settle down,” William called calmly and nodded over to the corporal.

“This ought to help,” Stevens remarked and placed a few drops of the ether on top of the mask which was held over Joe’s nose as he had yet to stop trying to pull it away from him.

“Just breathe, Joe,” William instructed his patient, trying to show calm in his tone of voice.  It had worked or Joe Cartwright’s strength had played out, because his left arm fell back down to his side.  “Let’s proceed,” William announced and nodded over to Stevens to grab the cotton once again.

Placing the scalpel on the tray at his side, William grabbed the probe and carefully prodded the wound attempting to locate the bullet.  The probe hit something just a few inches under his patient’s skin.

“It’s not too far in there,” William called over to the assistant.  “Hand me the retractor.”

Joe heard strange sounds, unsure where he was, he peered around through the mist.  He moved as if in slow motion, confusion filling his mind, Joe fought to ascertain where he was at the time.  All he could see was a thick blue-gray cloud which enveloped him.

“Little Joe!” The voice called out, and the words echoed against the ethereal mist.  “Little Joe, over here!”

“Who – who is it?” Joe responded, and even his own voice came out sounding strange at the time.

“It’s me, Silly,” The girl laughed and then slowly materialized right in front of Joe.

“Jennifer?” Joe asked, his question coming out with a cross between doubt and amazement in his tone.

“Well – yes – but you used to call me October, remember?” She smiled and drew a bit closer to her first beau.

“How – I mean –how are you here, Jennifer?  I – I mean – well – you died,” Joe stammered.

Jennifer touched Joe’s arm and grinned at the perplexed look on his face.  “No-one ever –really dies, Little Joe.  I’m just in my new body – and in a much better place.”

Joe’s confusion filled his eyes and spread across his face.  “Then – then does this mean I’m with you – I mean — well – I got shot,” He tried to piece it all together.

“No, Little Joe – you’re just –well – let’s just say your visiting right now,” Jennifer replied attempting to quiet her friend and allay his worry.

Joe touched Jennifer’s arm to make sure he wasn’t experiencing some kind of a fevered dream at the time.  She felt both warm and very real.  “Jennifer – I tried to get them – you know the ones who killed you and – well — Steve.”

Jennifer nodded and replied, “Yes, Steve is here too, Little Joe.  And we both thank you for what you did for us — and for all the people who were killed by those rifles.  I asked that I could see you one last time –so here we are!”

“Jennifer – I wish I could have prevented what happened to you.  I love you so much – I’ve never gotten over you,” Joe confessed staring into her eyes.

“Little Joe – I know that – but it’s time you let me go.  You proved your love in what you did for me.  But you’ve got to move on with your life now.  Please let me go – for both of our sakes.  Now tell me goodbye, Little Joe, you’ve got to leave,” Jennifer urged her friend to acknowledge that she was never his to begin with.

“I don’t want to,” Joe admitted as she began to disappear.

“Say it, Little Joe, tell me goodbye and go back to where you belong.  There’s a lot of life ahead for you.   Say it, please!”

Fighting back his tears, Joe whispered to the departing vision of the love of his life.  “Goodbye, October.”

 

With Little Joe Cartwright nothing is ever easy.  AKA we all saw this coming.

The medic stepped out of the examination room and watched as three Cartwrights and one anxious colonel hurried over to him.

“How is my son?” Ben was the first to ask.

William handed the man a bullet.  “I was able to remove that.  It wasn’t in too deeply, Mister Cartwright, thankfully it appears that no organs were damaged.”

Ben handed the bullet over to McMasters and turned back to the medic.  “And now?  Will Joseph recover?”

“I believe so, Sir.  But we had to use ether when he came around during the surgery, so I expect him to sleep quite a long while.  As long as his temperature goes back to normal and there’s no infection, your son should recover just fine.  Of course, he’s lost a lot of blood so he’s going to need a lot of bed rest while he recovers.”

“I can promise you that Joseph won’t be going anywhere once I get him home,” Ben insisted, now wishing that he had put his foot down and tried a lot harder to stop his son from playing the role he had for the colonel.

Adam and Hoss moved in closer to their father and the medic and smiled over the news of their little brother’s prognosis.

“May we see him?” Pa asked.

“That would be fine, but it’s going to be a while before he’ll be aware enough to know that you’re in there with him,” William answered.

Hoss laughed and patted his father’s shoulder.  “No – that ain’t exactly true.  My little brother will know our pa is there next to him, it’s getting to be tradition with that kid!”

Ben grinned over to Hoss and nodded.  “Let’s go see the boy.”

William opened the door and led the family in to see the injured young man.  One by one they filed in and took positions around the table where Joe was sound asleep.

“Joseph,” Ben began to whisper down to his son.  “You’re going to be okay, Boy.  You just rest easy,” he said and softly swept his hand across his son’s head, pushing back the fallen bangs from the boy’s eyes with the motion.

Ben turned his attention back to the medic and his assistant who stood in the background.  “Thank you – thank you both,” Ben said nodding over to the two men.

“You’re very welcome, Sir,” William replied.  “I believe my assistant here and I could use some coffee.  I’ll be right back.”  The two men walked out of the room closing the door behind them.

“The kid’s going to be fine, Pa,” Adam said as he dropped a hand down onto his father’s shoulder as Ben took a seat in the one chair in the room.

“Why don’t the two of you boys get some coffee?  It’s going to be another long night.”

Hoss patted his little brother’s shoulder and then stared at his father noticing the relief on his face.  “Okay, we’ll bring you back some too, Pa.”

“That sounds good, Son,” Ben nodded gratefully.  He watched as his sons walked back out into the hall closing the door behind them.

Reaching for his son’s right hand, Ben held it in his, squeezing it affectionately.  “You did it again, Joseph!  Paul will be sorry he missed this one,” Pa mused as he watched his youngest sleeping peacefully.

Little Joe takes a turn for the worse —- yet again.

While the colonel and his men interrogated Sergeant Dixon, the three Cartwrights camped out inside the small examining room.  Joe hadn’t stirred all night though his father kept vigil right alongside him, cooing words of encouragement and trying his very best to bring the boy around.

By daybreak both Hoss and Adam had succumbed to their fatigue and leaned back on the one bunk and fell asleep.  Even Ben, who had tried to remain awake had eventually passed out there in the chair.  The medic had checked in on his patient every hour and was glad to see the three men were getting some rest.  After looking at the wound, William quietly checked Joe’s pulse and his forehead.  The pulse was a bit weak, and his patient was still running a fever, but his wound looked good.  The stitches were holding just fine with no further sign of fresh blood on the bandages.

“How’s he doing?” Adam asked quietly, trying not to rouse his father.  He knew that his pa hadn’t gotten much sleep and hoped that he’d get at least a couple of hours there in the chair.

“The wound looks good,” William paused and turned towards Adam.  “But his fever is a bit high right now.”

Hoss awoke and moved to stand next to his older brother.  “What’s going on?” He whispered, keenly aware that Pa hadn’t gotten much sleep.

“I was telling your brother that Joe’s wound looks very good, but his fever is still high,” William replied quietly.

Ben had heard the word fever and somewhere in his subconscious mind it caught hold of his heart and jolted him awake.  He coughed as he came around and shot a wary look over at the medic.  “What’s that about Joseph’s fever?” He asked as he stood from the chair and dropped his hand down onto Joe’s shoulder.

“It’s still a bit high, Sir, but that’s to be expected after all that he’s gone through.  I don’t think there’s a cause for alarm unless it’s not gone down by tonight.  Let’s give your boy time to get over the surgery before we start thinking the worst.”

“One of you should’ve woke me up,” Ben grumbled staring over at Hoss and Adam.

“Dad gum it, Pa, we both fell asleep before you did – you need more rest!” Hoss insisted.

“Hoss is right, Pa.  How about you spreading out on that bunk for just a bit?” Adam urged.

Ben bent forward as he settled his right hand onto Joe’s forehead.  “It is high,” He remarked and tried his best not to think of the worst-case scenario.  “Can’t you give him anything?”

“I’d rather not, Mister Cartwright,” William answered and headed over to the fresh basin of water.  He placed a cloth into the bowl and then squeezed it out.  Then he placed it on Joe’s forehead attempting to cool it down some.  “Let’s just keep these cool compresses going for a while.”

“Do you think it’s infection that’s doing this?” Ben wasn’t about to settle down while Joe was in any kind of danger.

“Possibly, but we got the bullet out and I didn’t see any foreign object like pieces of clothing anywhere near it.  Try not to worry.  Let’s see how Joe does today.”

“How is the boy?” Colonel McMasters asked as he entered the room and neared the patient and his family.

“He has a bit of a fever however the wound looks good, Sir,” William answered.

McMasters nodded and then stared over at Ben.  “I came to see if you men would like some breakfast.  I’ve had it prepared for the three of you.”

“Go ahead, Boys,” Ben urged his sons.

“We’ll go one at a time, Pa, that is if you agree to take a nap there on the bunk,” Adam tried to make a bargain so his father would get some badly needed rest.

“He’s been up all night,” Hoss called over to the colonel.  “Pa, Joe needs you healthy, if you don’t get some rest, you’re going to get sick.”

Ben couldn’t hide behind his controlled demeanor any longer.  He was both angry and frustrated.   He was upset over the fact that his son had been shot.  He was upset that the boy had suffered through an operation and was still unconscious.  Mostly he was upset over the fact that there wasn’t a thing that he could do about any of it; other than worry, pray and keep a vigil over the boy.  “How am I supposed to sleep with your little brother fighting that fever?”

Adam placed a hand on Pa’s arm and replied, “You just lay down for a couple of hours and one of us will stand here and fuss over Joe just like you’d be doing.  Come on, Pa, it’s for your own good.”

“I’ll be checking in on your son every hour, Mister Cartwright.  And both of your sons know how to find me if I’m needed,” William added hoping that the man would agree to rest.

“Mister Cartwright, I know a rebellion when I see one,” McMasters smiled at Pa. “I think the best thing to do right now is to retreat – and go get some rest while you can.  Your sons seem to have the situation under control.”

Ben sighed and turned the cloth over on Joe’s forehead, settling it back into place.  “Alright, but you two better wake me if he comes around!” He exclaimed and moved over to the bunk and sat down.

“Pa, you know we will,” Hoss nodded.

“You go on and get your breakfast, Hoss, and I’ll go after you get back,” Adam announced as he sat down in the chair that his father had finally vacated.

“Okay,” Hoss agreed and walked out of the room with both the medic and McMasters at his side.

Ben cast one final apprehensive glance at Joe and then stretched out on the bunk.  His body took over and soon he fell fast asleep.  Adam stood and crossed the room.  He drew up the blanket from the bottom of the bed and placed it over his father.  Smiling, he moved back to watch over his little brother.

Fixing Little Joe’s reputation problem.

Ben Cartwright had gotten a good four hours of rest and after he awoke and checked on his injured son he was asked to join Colonel McMasters in his office.  He wasn’t happy that Private Jennings had interrupted his vigil over his son’s sick bed, but after being told that there was new information that the colonel wanted to tell him Ben had acquiesced.  He was led down to the colonel’s office and the man greeted him.

“Thank you for coming, Mister Cartwright, won’t you come in?” McMasters said and waved Ben inside.

“I don’t want to be away from my son long,” He announced as he took a seat next to the colonel.

“I understand, Sir.  I just wanted you to know that your son’s mission was not done in vain.  We interrogated Sergeant Dixon, the man who was responsible for the theft of most of those rifles, and he cooperated.  It seems that he’s aware that he will face the firing squad and apparently doesn’t want to be the only one who goes down for stealing and selling those Henry’s.  I’ve sent out Corporal Winters with a company of my best soldiers and right now they should have the men responsible in their custody.  The ones who are military will face court martial and punishment here and the civilians will be taken to the Virginia City Jail since most of them operated in Storey County.”

“I appreciate you telling me that,” Ben nodded.  “And I’m sure that Sheriff Roy Coffee will be happy to house them while they await trial.”

“I’ve also dispatched one of my men to the Territorial Enterprise,” McMasters smiled.

Ben stared at the colonel unclear as to the reason for that having been done.  “Why?”

McMasters walked around to the front of his desk and faced the weary father.  “To give the paper there in Virginia City the whole story of what your son did for the army.  We do need to clear Joe’s name, right?”

Nodding and for the first time in several days smiling as well, Ben replied, “I appreciate that, Colonel.  There are quite a few people in our town who no longer have a good opinion of my son.”

“That will all change just as soon as the article is printed.  We no longer need to keep the theft of the Henry’s secret now that the ring of thieves has been captured.  You have a very brave son, Mister Cartwright,” He reached over to shake Ben’s hand.

Standing and shaking the outstretched hand of the colonel he responded firmly, “Yes, he is.  But he’s never going on a mission like this ever again.  His days of being some sort of spy are over.”

A loud knock sounded on the door and McMasters walked across the room and answered it.

“Your son is beginning to come around, Sir,” Private Jennings called over to Ben.

Without replying or saying anything further to the colonel, the anxious father hurried out of the office and headed down the hallway which led to the examination room.

We need to do something!  AKA history repeats itself.

“He opened his eyes and muttered something that Hoss and I didn’t understand, Pa,” Adam explained as his father moved over to where Joe lay.

“Joseph – come on open those eyes now,” He called to the boy and reached for his hand.

“Pa?” Joe asked, his voice scratchy and hoarse due to the ether.

“Right here, so are your brothers.  Open those eyes.”

With a great deal of effort Joe’s eyelids lifted halfway and he peered up at Pa and then noticed his brothers standing on each side of the examination table.  He hadn’t missed the fact that everyone looked very anxious, he could tell it in the way they stood staring at him and in the rigidness of their stances.

“Hi, Little Brother,” Hoss called over to him smiling.

“Hoss – Adam,” Joe attempted to nod his head, but the motion made him nauseous.

“It’s about time you came back to us, Kid,” Adam offered.

Joe’s attention fell back on his father who was there at his side holding onto his arm.  “Pa – when are they gonna take the bullet out?”

“They’ve done that already, Joseph,” He replied softly.

Joe scrunched up his face and muttered, “No—no, Pa.  I can still feel it.  It hurts too.”   He lifted his left hand up and it came to a rest on top of his bandaged midsection.

Ben didn’t know what to say to the boy and right as he was about to come up with an excuse for Joe’s pain the medic walked into the room.

“He’s awake finally, huh?” William grinned and moved next to his patient.  “How are you feeling, Joe?”

“Gut hurts,” Joe admitted clutching at his bandage. He closed his eyes again and called over to the man who had apparently performed some kind of surgery on him, but he couldn’t have removed a bullet; Joe felt it. “You gonna get that bullet out of me or what?”

The medic looked around at the boy’s family and then back down at Joe.  “I got it out, maybe it’s the feeling of that incision that’s making you hurt like the bullet did?”

Joe slowly rolled his head to the side where his father stood looking worriedly over at him.  “Pa – don’t feel so good,” He groaned.

Ben dropped his hand down onto the boy’s forehead and replied, “You’ve still got a fever, Son.  It’s just going to take a while until you get your sea legs back.”  He cast an apprehensive look at the medic, his eyes questioning the fact that his son was hurting so badly.

“No, Pa – it’s that bullet in my gut,” Joe insisted and then his eyes closed for one final time, and he was back asleep again.

“What do you think?” Ben asked the medic, worry creasing his forehead.

William checked Joe’s pulse and his wound and shook his head.  “The wound seems clean enough, and there’s no further bleeding.  Your son’s pulse is a bit weak but that’s to be expected due to the loss of blood.”

“But his fever hasn’t gone down at all,” Ben protested.  “We’ve kept those compresses going all day and he’s still just as hot as he was this morning.”

William sighed and shrugged his shoulders.  “We can try to use cold cloths over his limbs to see if that will help.  Other than that, all we can do is try to get him to drink once he comes around again.”

“We need to do something,” Ben’s voice was now a bit more severe as he began to fear that he might yet lose his youngest even though the bullet had been removed.

“I’ll get some cooler water and some towels,” William responded and turned out of the room.

As soon as the medic left Adam and Hoss turned to their father.  They could see the anguish on the man’s face.

“Pa, me and Adam was talking while you were with the colonel.  We think that it might be a good idea if we get a hold of Doc Martin,” Hoss announced.

“I’ve been thinking the very same thing, Son,” Ben nodded.  “If this boy’s fever isn’t down by tonight, I’m sending one of you to go fetch him.”

Despite the awful turn of events, Adam managed a smile and draped his arm around his father’s shoulder and said, “Then it’s going to have to be me, Pa.”

Ben looked at his eldest with confusion on his face.  “Why?”

“Because it will be just like it happened twenty years ago.  Remember it was my job to fetch the doctor the night that Joe was born?  I gave Doc Martin a real start that day by the way I drove our buckboard from town to the ranch.”

Looking down at the injured young man Pa’s eyes misted up.  “That’s right,” He nodded, and a faint smile pulled up the corners of his mouth.  “It’s hard to believe it will be twenty years in just another day and a half.”

“It’s going to take me longer to get him out here, Pa.  Do you really want to wait until tonight for me to head on out?”

Pa put his hand on Adam’s arm and shook his head.  “No, Son, I don’t know what I was thinking – Paul needs to get here as quickly as possible!  You go and get your gear ready and leave for Virginia City.  It’s probably going to take an entire day for you to get into town and bring Doc back with you.”

Adam stared down at his youngest brother and sighed.  “Get better will you, Joe?” He whispered.  Then he hurried out of the room and prepared for the long ride to go and fetch the doctor back to the fort.

“I bet old Doc will have a pure fit, Pa,” Hoss tried to lighten his father’s mood with his smile.  “The kid’s been putting him through the mill ever since he was born!”

“The kid hasn’t just put Doc through the mill,” Ben announced and then dropped his hand back down on Joe’s forehead.  “This boy has been scaring us for years with his many injuries, but he’s always bounced back.  I can only pray that he holds true to form this time.”

“Never count Little Joe out, Pa.  He’s gonna pull through,” Hoss insisted, fighting back his own fears about his little brother’s survival.

Enter Doctor Paul Martin.  AKA twenty years of emergencies.

Ben Cartwright was beside himself with worry.  He had helped Hoss, the medic and his assistant swathe his son’s body with cold wet towels for over twenty-four hours and never accomplished what they had attempted to do, and that was lowering Joe’s fever.  They had only been able to get a little bit of water down his son’s throat as he had been unconscious most of that time.

“Please wake up, Joseph,” Ben whispered, becoming frantic over the fact that his son hadn’t made a sound or even moved an inch for almost eight straight hours.  He was beginning to think that he would lose his boy the day before his twentieth birthday and just the thought of that had kept Pa on high alert and not able to even sit in the chair.  He just stood at the head of the table and applied compresses on Joe’s forehead and talked to him.

“Here, Pa,” Hoss said and handed his father a cup of coffee.  “You go on and sit down I can do that.”

Pa stared over at his middle boy as he remained standing and sipped the coffee.  “I wish your brother would get back with Doc.”

Hoss eased a hand onto Pa’s shoulder and whispered, “I know he’s trying his best to get here, Pa.  Hopefully he’ll be here soon.”

Ben drew out his pocket watch and moved a bit closer to the lamp there on the medic’s desk and set down his coffee cup.  “It’s ten p.m. now.  Maybe he couldn’t find Paul?  Maybe he was out on another emergency?”

“He’ll be here,” Hoss nodded trying his best to calm his father down though it was a losing battle.  He was scared for his little brother, and he figured that his pa would feel even worse about the possibility that he would lose his youngest.

It was at that exact moment when the two men were consumed with worry and fear that the door opened, and they turned to see Adam and Doctor Paul Martin.

“Thank God,” Ben whispered and hurried over to the doctor.  “Paul – I’m so glad to see you!” He exclaimed shaking the man’s outstretched hand.

Paul could see the panic that was clearly etched all over Ben Cartwright’s face.  He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to Adam and moved to stand next to Joe.

“I was bringing in a baby when Adam caught up with me.  Kind of appropriate, huh?  It was what — almost twenty years ago that I brought this kid in, right?”

“Around midnight it will be, Paul,” Ben answered as he turned and nodded towards Adam, thanking him with his eyes for having brought the doctor to the fort.

“Adam filled me in on everything that happened.  What’s gone on since he left?” Paul asked as he checked Joe’s pulse and felt his forehead.

“His fever hasn’t gone down at all; in fact, it’s gone up even though we’ve been blanketing him with cold wet towels non-stop.”

Doc nodded and said, “ah huh,” and that was it. He reached into his black medical bag and brought out a bottle of smelling salts.  “I need to get this kid to wake up and do some fussing – just so he knows I’m here.”

Waving the strong scent of ammonium carbonate underneath Joe’s nostrils, it wasn’t long before they all heard the boy cough and saw him quickly turning his head away from the smell.

“That’s it, Joe – now come on – don’t make me do that again,” Paul called to his patient and then lightly slapped his face.  “Come on – now don’t get stubborn with me!”

Joe’s eyelids fluttered open, and he squinted up to see Doc Martin staring at him.  “Doc?” He muttered, his voice coming out both hoarse and raspy.

Paul smiled and nodded, “That’s right, Joe.  Now what the heck are you doing running around getting shot all the way out here?  I had a long ride to get to you!”

Joe’s face flinched and a groan escaped his lips.  “Don’t feel so good, Doc.”

“Tell me about it – where do you hurt?”

“My – my gut — there’s a bullet in me,” Joe whispered and then coughed due to the dryness in his throat which caused him to seize up in pain from his abdomen.  His legs pulled up from the table and that sent searing pain throughout the area of his incision.

Paul very calmly pushed the boy’s legs back down to ease the pain some.  “Huh – I heard that they took one out of you, Little Joe?  Did someone shoot you after surgery?” Doc half kidded his patient trying his best to get to the facts but in a calm manner.

“Don’t know – but I can feel it in there,” Joe returned and then cast a look over at his father and could read the worry all over his face.  “Pa – don’t feel so good,” He repeated himself.

Ben moved closer to his son and felt his forehead.  “You’re still running a fever, Boy, but once it comes down, you’ll feel better.  Let me get you some water,” He offered, attempting to mask his fear so Joseph wouldn’t detect it in the tone of his voice.

“No – Pa – feel sick at my stomach,” Joe complained, wincing his face in pain.

Doc examined Joe’s wound and then looked over at Ben and said, “Don’t bother with the water right now.  I’m going to open Joe up to see what’s going on inside of him and I’d rather not give him anything to drink that might come up once I administer the ether.”

Joe stared again at his father and his brothers as well.  It wasn’t hard to tell that they were all frightened now.

“Joe – you just lie still while I get my instruments cleaned good and I’ll be right with you,” Doc smiled at his patient and then walked across the room and pulled Ben aside.

“Why the operation?” Ben questioned, keeping his voice low so it wouldn’t alarm Joe.

“Joe isn’t getting better, and it’s been far too long that he’s had that fever.  He must have some kind of foreign matter in that wound and I’m going to see that we take care of it.  Now if you’d kindly get someone to clean my instruments and bring me more lights and plenty of boiling water I’ll get started.”

“Boys,” Ben paused as he moved over to Hoss and Adam.  “Go and tell McMasters what Paul is going to do and have him get us what we need.  See that he brings it all just as quickly as he can.”

“Yes, Sir,” Both men replied and turned out of the room.

“He went right back under, Ben,” Paul motioned to Joe as his father drew closer.  “I expect that’s a good thing for now.”

“I hate that he’s going to have to have another operation,” Ben sighed wearily and brushed back the unruly curls which had fallen back down onto Joe’s forehead.  ***This boy needs a haircut — and a shave wouldn’t hurt him any either.  He’s got a week or more stubble on that chin of his and those couple of hairs that he calls a mustache. *** He thought to himself and then wondered why his mind was on such things.  The only thing that mattered was for Joseph to live, nothing else.  He shook himself from his musings and faced Paul.

“If Joe says his gut hurts, then his gut hurts and I’m going to find out why,” Paul explained and then noticed the grim expression on his friend’s face.  “Oh, Ben, now don’t go to worrying let’s just see what I can find.  I was going to tell you that Roy is fuming over the stunt you pulled on him.  Yes sirree, he told me to tell you that you’ve got some big time explaining to do about everything you kept from him like about Joe being disowned and fighting in the street with Adam and pretending to cavort with that saloon girl who apparently was also working with the army,” the doctor chuckled as he tried to lighten the mood if only for a few minutes.

“Oh – then I guess that article made it into the Territorial Enterprise?  The Colonel told me that he was going to have someone get the real story about Joseph’s little mission printed up in the newspaper.”

“Oh yes, and it’s a doozy too!  People in town are calling your son a real hero.  That’s a whole lot better than what they’ve been calling him here lately!  I brought you a copy and I’ll bet there’ll be quite a few other copies that will be saved for you by the editor of the Enterprise,” Paul laughed.  “When Joe’s all fixed up you’d better calm the sheriff down or he’ll never speak to you again.  Roy’s fit to be tied because on top of your little deception, he’s had his jail cells filled with men that your son here helped get captured due to his time as a spy for the army.”

Ben drew in a deep breath and shook his head.  “I wish I could’ve convinced him not to do it, Paul.  I was afraid he’d get hurt – and just look at him now!”

Doc reached over and patted his friend’s arm to provide some comfort.  “You never have been able to get this one to mind you – no more than I could get him to arrive on his due date around Christmas!  He was determined to do that mission, Ben, just like he was determined to be born darned near two months early and rouse me from a peaceful sleep!”

Ben grinned for the first time all day and nodded.  “I guess you’re right, Paul.  It’s always been this way whether Joe is a minute old or almost twenty years old, he’s got to do things the hard way.  He’s always been muleheaded.”

“Takes after his pa,” Paul quipped and winked.

A tale of two bullets. AKA the “magic bullet theory”.

It had taken almost an hour to prepare the examination room to Paul’s specifications and sterilize the instruments along with prepping Joe Cartwright for his second surgery in as many days.  When he had everything to his liking Doc allowed the medic to work alongside him as an assistant. They prepared to administer the ether.

“Ben, you go out there and maybe read that newspaper, I gave it to Adam.  I’ll be out just as soon as I’ve got Joe fixed up,” Paul called over to the man who now stood hovering over his left shoulder.

Drawing in a deep breath and saying a silent prayer, Ben touched his son’s cheek and felt the warmth of it on his palm.  He stared into Paul’s eyes and the two old friends didn’t need words to be said between them.  Ben knew that the doctor would do his best to save Joseph’s life. He slowly turned out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“William, go ahead and put a few drops on the mask and I’ll get those sutures out,” Paul instructed, standing off to the side of the table.  He observed everything the medic did and then reached for his scalpel.  “Now, Joe, let’s just see what you’re hiding under there,” He whispered and cut through the black knots of the sutures which held the wound together for the moment.

“Pa, if you don’t stop pacing, you’re going to wear yourself flat out!” Adam insisted.

Ben cast a glance at his two boys and shook his head, “It’s been more than an hour now.  I’d have thought Paul would be done.  He’s just looking for anything that might have gotten driven into your brother’s wound along with that bullet.”

“Oh, Pa – you know how thorough old Doc is,” Hoss tried to calm his father, but he felt the exact same way about the long wait to find out if there was anything that Doc Martin could do to save his brother’s life.

Ben reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out his pocket watch for the tenth time that hour.  “It’s midnight,” He called over to his sons.  “The boy is twenty now.”

Before either brother could comment, the doctor walked out of the examination room heading right over to Pa.

“I think the boy is going to get better now,” Paul announced as he looked at Ben.

Trying to believe what the doctor had said Pa fought to get the words out.  “What did you find?  Was there some material inside the wound from Joe’s shirt?”

“No – do you remember when Joe said that it felt like there was a bullet inside of him?”

Ben’s face took on a quizzical appearance and he returned, “Yes – he’s been saying that since the day after his first operation.”

Paul grinned and held an object up in his hand, “He was right!”

Ben reached over and held the slug from someone’s gun in his fingers.  “Another bullet?”

Doc nodded and replied, “That’s right, Ben.”

“Then you found an entry wound somewhere other than his stomach?” Ben questioned as his two sons drew closer.

“No – didn’t find another entry wound,” Paul said cryptically.

“I don’t understand – where did the bullet come from?” Ben asked, getting exasperated by the little information that the doctor was offering them all.

“When that boy says his gut hurts and that it feels like he’s got a bullet in there – well maybe everyone should listen to him.   That bullet was in the same wound, just dug in a bit further.”

“Wait—,” Adam jumped in.  “Are you saying that Joe got shot twice and it only made one entry wound?”

“Yes,” Doc nodded.

“I just don’t believe it,” Ben sighed and shook his head totally bewildered by the bizarre turn of events.

“Well, if that wasn’t Little Joe Cartwright who I just dug that bullet out of I wouldn’t have believed it myself.  And it’s not the medic’s fault either.  He knew that the kid was shot, so once he dug out that first bullet quite naturally, he sewed the kid up and thought he’d get better.  I’d say the chance that two bullets found their way into Joe’s stomach one after the other and went through the exact same opening is about a million to one – that is – unless we are talking about your youngest, Ben.  With Joe, I’d say it was about perfectly normal,” Paul laughed.

Ben tucked the bullet into his vest pocket and then asked, “Can I see him?”

“You’re getting a bit slow in your old age now that you don’t have any more teenagers,” Doc teased.  “I expected that question the minute I walked out of that room.  Yes, you can see him.  And once your other boys and I go and find some coffee everyone else can see Joe too.”

“Come on, Doc,” Hoss smiled and patted the man’s shoulder.  “I’ll even show you where they hide the grub around here!”

Hoss and Adam escorted the doctor down to the cookhouse to get some coffee and a very late meal as their father hurried into the examination room.

“Mister Cartwright, I think he’s starting to come around,” William nodded over to the man.

“Thank you.  Why don’t you join Doctor Martin and get some coffee?  I’ll stay here with the boy.”

“Yes, Sir,” William replied and quietly left the room.

Happy birthday Little Joe!

Ben made his way over to where his son was lying on the examination table where he’d been for days.  He settled his right hand onto his son’s forehead and leaned forward to try to bring him around.

“Joseph?  Come on – get those eyes open,” He called down soothingly.

Joe’s eyelids fluttered and he coughed from the anesthesia.

“That’s it – come on – time to wake up now, Son.”

“Pa?” Joe whispered as he fought to focus on his father’s careworn face.

“I’ve only got one thing to say to you, Young Man,” Ben called down to his son, sternness in his tone of voice.

“Yeah, Pa?” Joe returned groggily, still unsure of what had gone on in the last two days.  He felt disoriented, though he had noticed that his gut wasn’t hurting quite as badly as it had before Doctor Martin had arrived on the scene.

“Happy Birthday, Joseph,” Ben grinned and leaned down and planted a kiss on his son’s forehead.  “Here’s your first present,” he said and placed the bullet that Doc had dug out of the boy an hour earlier into his son’s left hand.

Joe drew it closer to view the object.  He managed to cast his pa an ironic smile and hoarsely replied, “I told you I had a bullet in me, Pa.”

Ben laughed and brushed his hand through his son’s curly hair and nodded down to him.  “I know – next time – well – never mind.  I don’t want there to be a next time!  You’re going to go back to a normal life – what am I saying?  In all your twenty years you’ve never had what would be called a normal life, Joseph.”

Joe attempted to laugh but his incision was hurting too much at the time.  “Don’t worry, Pa.  I’m going back to the dull life of a rancher’s son now that my short military career is over.”

“Good to know, Joseph, because I’ve already resigned for you,” Ben chuckled.  “Now – let’s get some water into you so we can finally get that fever down!”

“Okay, Pa,” Joe nodded as he closed his eyes, his head still swimming from the ether.

“No falling back to sleep!” Pa ordered, calling over his shoulder as he poured the glass of water.

Joe had to grin at the stern inflection that was in his father’s command.  *** Well, I lost the Colonel, but I still have Major Cartwright to tell me what to do. *** He mused to himself.  “Yes, Sir,” He whispered.

Pa hastily returned with a glass of water.   Reaching his hand down to lift his son’s head up a bit, he instructed, “Take it slow, Son.”

Joe took in a few short sips and lifted his hand to wave the glass away.  “That’s about all I can stomach, Pa.”

Ben shook his head, “No –try a bit more – you’ve hardly had a thing to drink in two days.”

“It’s either the stuff they gave me to knock me out or the surgery – I don’t’ know which – but it’s got me feeling sick at my stomach,” Joe protested.

“I know – but you’re just going to have to try – now just a few more sips,” Pa persisted though he knew that his son wasn’t feeling good and yet there was the fever to contend with and that needed to be dealt with as soon as possible.

Realizing his father wasn’t going to stop pushing him to drink, he finally obliged and got down a little more of the water.

“Good, Son,” Ben nodded and patted his son’s arm sending him down a grateful smile. He turned and set the glass back over by the basin.  Drawing the chair a bit closer to his son, Pa settled down into it.  “Not exactly the best way to spend a birthday, is it?”

“If you hadn’t told me I’d never have known, Pa.  How long have I been laid up anyway?”

“I’d say long enough to give your poor father more white hairs on his head –, but you did that years ago even before you were out of diapers,” Pa laughed and reached for Joe’s hand and squeezed it.  “But to get serious for just a moment, I am proud of you and all that you did.”

“Thanks, Pa,” Joe nodded and sent over a weak smile his way.

Ben cleared his throat and stared at Joe hard.  “Of course you didn’t keep your promise to me, Joseph.  What happened to being careful and not getting hurt?”

Joe thought for a minute and then turned his eyes on his father and replied, “Well, the way I figure it, Pa, there must’ve been at least one hundred bullets flying all over that camp – and the fact that I only caught two is pretty good don’t you think?”

Ben chuckled and patted his son’s arm.  “For anyone else I’d say no, but for you I guess that’s about right.  Two bullets and one entry wound – only you, Joseph!”

Joe closed his eyes, his strength waning fast.  “I’m just glad it’s over, Pa.”

Ben could tell that his son was about to go back under, so he quickly grabbed up the water glass.  “Not so fast there, Young Man, let’s get a bit more into you and then I’ll let you get some rest.”  He once again lifted Joe’s head off of the table and encouraged him to drink a bit more water so that his fever had a better chance of going down.

Joe was far too exhausted to protest.  He drank what he could and then felt his father’s hand gently lowering his head back down.

“She’s gone now —,” Joe spoke out quietly with sadness very evident in his words and on his face.

“What’s that, Son?  What did you say?” Ben asked, confusion painting his face.

Joe rolled his head to the side and attempted to make eye contact with Ben.  “October – I hate to see her go, Pa – but – she’s gone.”

“October?  Oh – that’s right – you used to call Jennifer that?”

“Yeah,” Joe muttered, his eyes misting up.

“Joseph?” Ben whispered, wondering if his son was beginning to talk out of his head as he had so often the last two days due to his high fever.  His son’s eyes were closed, and he now lay unmoving on the examination table.  “What’s that about Jennifer?”

“She’s gone, Pa, and she said – well – she said I have to let her go,” Joe returned just barely audible.

Ben shook his head over what his son had conveyed or had tried to convey anyway.  He fought to figure out what, if anything, he should say to the boy.  Even if it had been an anesthesia induced dream, it had seemed real to his son, so he wasn’t going to challenge whatever Joe had seen or heard.   “It’s for the best, Joseph – she’s in a better place now.”  He hoped that his words hadn’t come out sounding too trite at the time.

“I saw her Pa; I even touched her – but she wasn’t’ here you know—not like we are.  I know you’re probably going to think it was all just a dream, but it wasn’t.   It was like heaven.  I know – I know – she’s there with Steve – and she said I needed to go on and forget her.  Gonna be hard, Pa – but she asked me to,” Joe paused and opened his eyes briefly, fighting the effects of the anesthesia.  “She thanked me – so – I guess she knew why – why I wanted to help the Colonel.  It was for her – and for everyone who got killed by those rifles, Pa.  I’m sorry I made you worry – but I just had to try.”

Ben slowly rubbed his son’s arm, attempting to lull him back to sleep.  He knew that Joe’s body had gone through a tremendous amount of physical trauma and that it would take a good deal of time to heal.  “Shhh – shush now.  You did well, Son, and I’m proud of you.  You risked your life – but you helped put an end to those rifles being used against a lot of innocent settlers.  I understood why you needed to do what the colonel asked you.  Now let’s just get you well, okay?”

“I hate that Gant got killed – I saw him hit the ground and die right after I got shot, Pa.  He just didn’t have what I had – he didn’t have a father to care about him when he was a kid.”

“I know, Joe,” Ben nodded.  He understood how his son felt because he remembered how he had stuck up for Gant when they were kids in school.  Joseph wasn’t the kind of person who ever turned his back on a friend, so he had been put in an awkward position, but it was for the greater good.  He hoped that Joe would remember that and not blame himself in any way for the man’s death.

“Thanks, Pa,” he whispered, finally getting to the point where he could no longer keep his eyes open.

“For what, Joseph?”

Ben was forced to stand and lean down towards his son as he could barely hear his words as they had come out.  “What did you say, Son?”

“For being my pa,” Joe muttered and fell off into an exhausted sleep.

Ben shook his head and grinned at his youngest lying there.  “Thank you for being my son,” Pa whispered as he bent down and kissed the boy’s brow.  He settled back into his chair and watched as his youngest slept; it was going to be yet another long night.  Ben was used to it after twenty years of being Joe’s pa.

Epilogue

Doctor Paul Martin versus his worst patient.  AKA the old thermometer technique.

“The wound is looking good, and his temperature has finally gone down,” Doc Martin announced and patted Joe’s arm fondly.  He had doctored the boy so many times that he knew more about his body than Joe did.

“Well, it’s about time, Little Brother,” Hoss grinned as he stood on the opposite side of the bunk.  Joe had been moved earlier in the afternoon from the hard examination table and placed on the bunk.

Joe turned his head and smiled wryly.  “Hey, Doc, what’d you get me for my birthday?”

“This!” Paul said and pushed a thermometer into his patient’s mouth.  He turned towards Ben and raised his eyebrow and announced, “Now we’ll get a few minutes of peace and quiet.”

Everyone in the room laughed, except Joe, who had a glass thermometer between his lips.

“How soon do you think we can get him home, Paul?” Ben asked, never taking his eyes off his youngest.  He could tell that the boy was feeling better which meant that he would soon be hollering to get on back to the Ponderosa.

“Today!” Joe insisted as he pulled out the thermometer so he could have his say about the move back home.

Doc turned and glared at his patient and pushed the thermometer back inside his mouth.  “I have other kinds of thermometers, Joe, and they don’t go inside your mouth – just keep acting up and you’ll find out firsthand!” Paul threatened sternly.  He watched as his patient leaned back and didn’t move a muscle.  “Okay – I thought you’d see things my way,” Paul continued and turned his attention back on Ben.  “I’d say if he keeps that fever down and gets some broth and lots of water in him, he should be able to make the trip by buckboard the day after tomorrow.  But if he tries to do anything foolish like getting up out of that bed then I’m going to see if McMasters will just go ahead and put him in the brig for a while for safe keeping.”

“Uh Oh, you got Doc mad at you again, Kid,” Adam laughed.

Joe continued to point at the thermometer, but Paul ignored him and sat down and drank his coffee next to the bunk.

Ben looked on very amused at the way that Doctor Martin had always been able to get the better of his son.  He’d threaten just about anything including unnecessary shots to keep Joe in line.  “I’ve asked for a mattress for the back of the buckboard to try and cushion the trip some.”

“That’ll help, Ben.  And when he gets home, I want him to stay in bed at least a couple of weeks.  I’ll remove the stitches at the end of the week.” Doc cast a glance over at Joe and he was still pointing at the thermometer which had been in his mouth for a good five minutes.  “It isn’t going to hurt you to percolate a little while,” He called over to Joe and then turned back to Ben.  “Keep him quiet and get lots of fluids into him.  When you get home you can move to soft foods, but I’ll be by when he gets back to the Ponderosa to see how he’s doing.” Doc stood and finally removed the thermometer and then just wiped it down with a towel and put it back inside his black medical bag.  He had never even looked at the reading.

“Hey!” Joe called out indignantly.  “You didn’t even look to see if I’ve got a fever or not!”

Paul grinned and stared at Little Joe and responded, “Oh I touched your forehead, I’m a doctor I don’t need that thing.  I just wanted to speak to your pa without your protests for a change.  And that thermometer was for keeping me up the night you were born.  It doesn’t square it with me – but it’s a start,” He winked.

Joe crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.  “No way to treat someone on their birthday you know?”

“I know it’s your birthday!  I brought you into the world – you were there don’t you remember?” Doc laughed.  “You just behave yourself youngster.  If you can act like a scoundrel for the military, then you can act like a saint for your pa.  You’ve put him through a lot so don’t give him any guff, okay?”

“Sure, Doc,” Joe smiled up at the man.  He knew how much Paul liked him and how much he enjoyed teasing him once a crisis was over.   “Thanks for pulling me through once again.  I’ll let you keep that bullet as a memento.”

Pulling on his coat Paul shot an annoyed glance at Joe.  “You’ve given me enough of those things over the years thank you very much!  I’ve dug a lot of bullets out of your ornery hide, Young Man.  I don’t even know the count anymore, but I can tell you that it’s been far too many.  Now stay out of trouble until I see you at the ranch in a couple of days.  Ben,” He paused as he stared over at him.  “You get some rest – Joe’s not in any grave danger so between Hoss and Adam there should be plenty of hands to tend to the boy.”

Pa nodded and shook the doctor’s hand.  “Thank you, Paul, I’m in your debt once again.”

“Not until you get my bill,” Doc winked and then walked out of the door.

“What a birthday,” Joe sighed and eased back against his pillow.

An unusual birthday celebration.  AKA cake for almost everyone.

“Don’t close those eyes just yet, Little Brother,” Hoss insisted and walked to the door.  He stepped out into the hallway where someone was waiting.  He took what they had from their hands and turned back into the room.  Hoss moved over to his little brother’s bunk carrying a birthday cake. Ben and Adam moved closer so they could all witness the look on Joe’s face.  He hadn’t disappointed them; he was very surprised.

“Looks good,” Joe grinned.  Hunger had finally hit him ever since his fever had broken.

Ben moved next to his youngest and set his hand down onto the boy’s shoulder.  “I’m afraid you can’t have any –,” He began but was cut off by his middle son.

“Nope but we can!” Hoss laughed and took a swipe at the icing on the bottom of the plate.

Joe sighed and shook his head.  It didn’t seem to bother the other three Cartwrights one bit that the one having a birthday was the only one who couldn’t partake in eating the cake.

Ben squeezed his son’s shoulder affectionately and called down to him, “Don’t look so dejected, Joseph.  You’ll get another one from Hop Sing when you get home.  Oh, and there’s presents waiting for you at home too by the way.  Now just blow out the candle after you make a wish.  We only had the cook put one on there because we didn’t want you to rip a stitch.”

Hoss held the cake right next to his brother’s chest so he wouldn’t have to try and sit up.  He knew that the boy was still hurting due to his incision.

Joe closed his eyes and made a wish and then with a quick blow took out the single candle.

“What did you wish for, Kid?” Adam asked as Hoss brought the cake over to the counter where the cook had left a knife some forks and three plates earlier.

“I wished that I could have some cake,” Joe smiled and looked over at his pa.

Ben returned to Joe’s bunk and patted his arm as he replied, “Oh you’ll get some cake – just not today!”

Joe watched as his family dug into his birthday cake and then he heard someone knocking at the door.  Adam went to see who it was.

“This is from the cook,” A private said and handed Adam a cup and then walked away.

Adam eased over to Joe and grinned.  “Oh, the broth in the army – I’ve read about it.  Here you go, Joe,” he said, wincing his face due to the aroma.  He handed his brother the cup.

“Thanks a lot,” Joe nodded with a frown on his face.

“You’re the one who wanted to go around being a spy, Joe,” Adam laughed at the way his brother was staring at the broth.

“Take it slow there, Joseph,” Ben called from the counter as he dug into his piece of cake.

Joe looked down at the very unappetizing looking concoction in the cup.  He slightly eased over on his side and sipped the broth cautiously.  It tasted exactly like he thought that it would.  It was awful.

The Cartwrights spent the day watching Joe sleeping most of the time.  Ben had been forced out of the room and Colonel McMasters had given him a private room just on the other side of his office so that the weary father could finally get some real sleep.  It was early evening by the time he rejoined his three sons.

“How’s he been?” Pa asked anxiously as he quietly moved over to the bunk and dropped a hand down onto Joe’s forehead.

“Not a smidge of a temperature,” Hoss happily announced.

“Good,” Ben sighed and watched as Joe slumbered on peacefully.  “Why don’t you boys go get a nap in?  I’m fine now.”

“We each had one, Pa,” Adam interjected and looked down at his brother who had been asleep for hours.  “You know, Pa, I don’t say it often, but Joe’s got guts to take on some of the things he does.  But this stint with the army – was a bit much.  He laid a lot on the line.  His reputation was ruined, he had to take a slap from you a few good punches from me and had to watch Hoss walk away from him when he was getting knocked around in the Silver Dollar.  Don’t let him know that I said this – but he’s a good kid.”

“I heard that,” Joe muttered and opened his eyes.  “Thanks – even though it took me getting gut shot twice for you to realize what a swell guy I am.  Pa showed me the newspaper I guess I’m some sort of a hero too.”

Hoss laughed and swatted Adam on the back, “That’ll teach you not to know when the little varmint is playing possum, Brother.  I knew it – just by the way he was wiggling those big ears of his!”

Joe laughed as he watched Hoss kidding Adam.  He then looked up at Pa and saw the way that he was grinning.  Joe was never so happy to be back with his family and it showed on his face.

“Bunch of nit wits,” Joe mumbled as his eyes misted up.

Pa hadn’t missed the tears in his son’s eyes.  He reached down and ruffled Joe’s hair.  He didn’t need to say it in words, Joseph knew.

“You’re right, Pa,” Joe whispered as he watched his brothers heading back across the room so they could get extra helpings of his birthday cake.  “I’m lucky too,” He nodded.  “Thanks for giving me brothers – even if they are polishing off my cake.”

Ben shook his head over the way that his youngest and he could communicate without the need for words, but he would say them this time anyway.  “Happy birthday, Son.  I love you,” He whispered and dropped his hand down onto Joe’s cheek.

Joe grinned up at his father and noticed a few sentimental tears in his eyes as well.  “I love you too, Pa,” He returned and watched as his father attempted and failed to lean in to give him a hug.  It had come off awkward as Pa tried his best to avoid all of the bandages.

“Pa – you can just give me one when I’m all better,” Joe quipped and heard his father laugh.

“Good idea,” Pa nodded and stood.  “Now I’m going to finish up your cake and then get you some of that wonderful broth,” he announced and walked across the room to join his older boys.

Joe shook his head and smiled at the three men across the room as he watched them all eating and talking, for once ignoring the injured young man in the bed.  ***It’s good to be back with them – thank you, Lord. *** Joe gave thanks for his family and then closed his eyes.

The end – of the mustache and the story.

Joe convalesced for the next two days until finally arrangements were made to get him home.  His brothers took care of the horses and Pa helped him to get ready for the long ride in the buckboard.  Ben rummaged through the bag he had been given with the clothes that Joe had worn prior to his first surgery.  He had tossed the boy’s shirt away; it was not salvageable in the condition that it was in, having both a bullet hole and a lot of blood on it.  Pa inspected the green corduroy jacket, which also had a hole as well as blood on it.  He decided to take it home in the bag just to see what, if anything, Hop Sing could do with it.  He had removed what Joe had inside of the pockets of his jacket.  Ben had found the money which had been in his own billfold prior to Joe pretending to shoot him days earlier.  That he would keep.  But when his hands fell on the half of a dozen hand rolled cigarettes, he held them out in front of him so his son could get a good look.

“Do you think they’re still good?  I could use one right about now,” Joe quipped, seeing the displeasure all over Pa’s face.

Ben walked over to where he had discarded his son’s shirt and dumped the cigarettes on top of the receptacle.  “Yes, they are good — good and thrown out,” He returned, glaring over at his son.  “And, as your former and permanent commanding officer, I’m telling you I’d better never see you using those things ever again!”

“Yes, Sir, Major Cartwright,” Joe returned, fighting a grin.  Though he had never really been in the military somehow Pa always made him feel like a recruit.

Ben sighed and shook his head over his son’s antics and then turned back around, trying to get everything ready to leave for home.

“Hey, will you help me with my boots, Pa?  Where are they?” Joe asked, gingerly sitting up in the bunk and holding onto his heavily bandaged stomach.

Ben finished packing his saddlebags across the room.  “Oh, I packed them.”

“You what?”

“You don’t need them, Joseph,” Ben responded matter-of-factly, never turning around to face his son.

“Hey – Pa?  What am I supposed to do — prance around the courtyard in my stocking feet?’

Ben chuckled and finally looked over at Joe.  “I don’t want any son of mine to prance.”

“Not funny – you know what I meant, Pa!  How am I supposed to walk out to the wagon in my socks?” Joe continued, getting a bit perturbed by his father’s obvious amusement done at his expense.

Ben groaned and moved over to the bunk and put his hands on his hips and looked at his son with a stern paternal glare.  “Joseph, you aren’t walking so just settle back.  And that’s exactly why I packed up your boots so you wouldn’t get any ideas!”

Joe crossed his arms over his chest and eyed his father carefully before speaking.  “Pa, I can walk, okay?” He went for a more subtle approach, hoping it might work.

“Doc said not to move around much, he gave me strict instructions for your care and I’m following through on them.  Now, any more back talk and I’m warning you – I disowned you once and I can do it again,” Ben couldn’t hide his mirth when he spotted the look on Joe’s face.  “They’re bringing in a stretcher to carry you to the buckboard.”

Joe was just about to voice his displeasure when Adam and Hoss came back into the room.

“About ready, Boys?” Ben asked.

“Yep, Pa – got the gear and supplies stowed and Little Joe’s mattress all set up,” Hoss nodded over to his father.

Joe dragged his hand up to his mouth to try to stay his anger at his father.  It was then that he realized that something was missing.

“Hey!” Joe called over to Pa.  “Where the heck is my mustache?  I’ve not seen a mirror in ages, but I don’t feel anything on my upper lip!”

The three other Cartwrights looked back and forth between each other, trying their best not to laugh.

“Little Brother – you see what happened was this,” Hoss began as he approached the bunk.  “That night that you got the last bullet dug out of you by Doc –well — he took those couple of hairs off with his scalpel at the same time!”

Joe frowned up at Hoss and shook his head.  “Try again – what happened to my mustache?”

Adam closed in on his brothers and looked at Joe and replied, “Hoss is just joshing you.  It wasn’t Doc.  It was Pa actually.  The night after your birthday he was sitting by that bunk, and he was bored so he just reached over and plucked those four hairs right off your lip.  He didn’t think you’d notice.”

Joe just shook his head getting nowhere with his question.  “Okay, Pa, what happened?” He asked once more, staring suspiciously at his father.  He had noticed how Pa was avoiding his eyes and that was a dead giveaway that he was the most likely culprit.

Before Ben could answer his son there was a knock on the door and he chose to be the one to go and see who it was.  He had always believed that discretion was the better part of valor, and he wasn’t ready to address his son’s facial hair, or the lack thereof, yet.

“This came for your son, Mister Cartwright,” Colonel McMasters said and handed the man an envelope.

“Thank you, Colonel, come on in.” Ben offered, happy to have the distraction to get Joe’s mind off of his missing mustache.  He crossed the room to where Joe was sitting and handed him the envelope.

Joe nodded over to the colonel and then opened what he had brought him.  It was from Crystal.  His mouth formed a broad smile when he read her letter and realized what else she had put inside.

***Dear Joe, sorry to hear about you getting shot twice.  Didn’t I tell you to be careful?  Anyway, I’ve spoken to Doctor Martin, and he says you’ll be alright.  Joe, you did a wonderful job, especially for an untrained rookie.  If I had more time I could’ve whipped you into a real spy.  I’m taking one more assignment and then I go back to being a housewife and maybe a mother.  We’ll see about that.  I’m enclosing our deck of cards so maybe, if you’d practice really hard, you might win a hand or two once and awhile.  You were a good soldier and I’ll miss you.  Take care of yourself, love Crystal.  PS why didn’t you duck? ***

“What’d it say, Little Brother?” Hoss asked.

“Oh, I’ll tell you if you tell me who stole my mustache,” Joe smirked as he tucked the envelope and cards into an old jacket which had been given to him by Private Jennings.

The Colonel smiled at the two young men and then moved in to say goodbye to Joe.

“Thank you for all your help.  You did a great job, you should be proud,” McMasters said as the two men shook hands.

“Thank you, Sir,” Joe nodded up to the man.  “I’d salute but I think that’s against regulations, right?”

McMasters laughed and replied, “You’re right, Joe, a civilian doesn’t salute a military soldier of any rank, and a military soldier of any rank doesn’t salute a civilian.  It’s strictly against regulations.”

“Well — I’m glad that we were all able to catch the ones stealing and selling those Henry’s, Colonel.”

McMasters nodded and patted Joe’s shoulder and then turned towards Ben.  “I have the detail out in the hall with the stretcher.  Are you ready, Mister Cartwright?”

Ben nodded, “Yes, we’re ready,” he said and cast a warning look down at Joe so he wouldn’t protest.

Joe sighed, “I guess I’m ready, but I sure as heck didn’t want to get carried out of here,”

The two-man detail were waved inside the room and soon Joe Cartwright was on the stretcher and carried out to the buckboard that waited in the courtyard.  Ben, Adam, Hoss and the Colonel followed behind.

“Easy, Boy,” Ben whispered as he helped Joe stretch out in the back of the wagon.  They placed two of the saddles from the three horses which were being pulled behind the buckboard down at the far end so Joe could keep his head up a little and Pa would have his own bolster as he rode along in the wagon with him.  He eased back and Ben placed a blanket over him as it was now November and getting colder.  Climbing up next to his son, Ben tried to get comfortable.

“Pa – come on – you don’t have to ride back here with me,” Joe insisted.

“Hush,” Ben called and then pointed to the men who stood there in the courtyard.

“What?” Joe asked, wondering why his father had made the motion with his hand.  He finally turned and looked in the direction where Pa had pointed.

“Attention!  Salute!” Colonel McMasters sang out and the men who had been standing out in the courtyard milling about drew themselves up and came to attention raising their right hands to the outside edge of their eyebrows in a formal salute.  They were facing directly towards Joe Cartwright in the wagon.  There was a big smile on the Colonel’s face, and he nodded over to all of the Cartwrights.

Ben grinned at his son and patted his arm proudly.  “It’s against military regulations, Joseph, but the Colonel told me he was willing to chance it.  He wanted to thank you the best way he could think of.  You did your job well, Son.  I’m proud of you.”

Joe leaned over to his father and whispered, “I hope they’re not waiting for me to salute back!”

Ben laughed, “No, Joe, don’t worry the Colonel will dismiss his own men.”

Ben and his sons waved to the soldiers and the Colonel as the wagon and horses rode out of the courtyard.  Joe eased back and his smile suddenly turned into a frown which didn’t get past his pa.

“What’s wrong—is your incision hurting you again?” Ben questioned, typical worry in his tone of voice.

Joe shook his head and sighed.  “No – I’m okay, Pa.  Just wondering how long I’ll have to be cooped up at home.”

“That’s not the look I saw, now what is it?” Ben persisted, knowing his son very well.

Joe stared down at the bed of the wagon for just a moment and then looked over at his father.  “It’s November, Pa – I was just thinking — I hate to see October go.  The month – and Jennifer.”

Ben reached over and put his arm around his son’s shoulder and whispered, “She told you to let her go, Son.  Honor her wish.”

Joe nodded, still fighting his memories of the girl who had stolen his heart so long ago.  He would try to do what she had said, freeing them both.  Joe sucked in a deep breath and decided to put on a brave face for his father’s sake.  He had put the man through a lot of travail with his recent exploits.

“Pa? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Son.”

“I want to know what happened to my darn mustache!” Joe insisted, “It was coming in real good right before I got shot, Pa.”

“It was dirt and I wiped it off,” Pa countered, stifling his laughter.  He knew why Joseph had changed the subject and decided to play right along with him.

“I guess I’ll have to get a new persona again, huh?”

“I’ll give you a new persona if you don’t lie back and rest, Joseph!” Ben was back to being the stern father he’d always been.  “Now go to sleep it’s a long trip home.”

Joe raised his right hand and gave a slight salute.  “Okay, Major,” he grinned and settled back, closing his eyes.

Ben leaned over and stared at his boy.  He was so proud of him and all that he had done to help stop innocent victims from being killed by the stolen rifles.  Joe had taken two bullets in his pursuit of the traitors and yet he hadn’t complained about any of the pain.  He had endured ridicule in Virginia City, plus a couple of fights and almost a week in jail.  But through it all Joseph had never faltered in his attempt to help the Colonel find the truth about who was stealing and selling those weapons.

“You’re a real trooper, Boy,” Ben whispered over to his son who was fast asleep propped up against the saddle.  He pulled the blanket up to Joseph’s shoulders and settled back.  ***A real trooper *** Ben smiled proudly and eased against the other saddle.

The End

Written by:  Wrangler

10-4-2025

(This story has a special dedication.  Of course, I always need to thank my story consultant Rob who must listen to numerous rewrites etc. plus explaining about blanks, so I wouldn’t accidently kill or injure Pa. Thanks, Rob.  But this story is for Joan, my best friend.  From the age of nine she endured my Bonanza stories and was the one who gave me the name of Wrangler.  We lost her in 2012 but she’s never far from me, every time I sign off as Wrangler, I know she’s in heaven still rooting me on.  Thanks Joan, I love you.)

Authors Note:  The character of Pete Timmons appeared in numerous Wrangler stories and was killed in “Payback”.  But that was when Joe was older than he is in this one, so I brought him back because he’s such a funny and convenient nemesis to Joe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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