Summary: Little Joe finds himself in trouble when he is caught stealing from the mercantile. There’s no denying that he did do it, but why? Now he must face his father and explain his actions. This was my first story ever. Warning: it does contain corporal punishment.

Rating: T  WC  1900

 

Little Joe Cartwright, Thief

Joseph Cartwright, age 10, sat next to Sheriff Roy Coffee’s desk crying softly. The boy knew he had done wrong. How was he ever going to explain this to his father? His brother, Hoss, was on his way to get him right now and Little Joe knew it would be only a matter of time before his Pa walked through that door. The thought of what would follow brought on another wave of tears. Roy looked over at the boy with little sympathy. He had much experience dealing with the wayward youth of Virginia City, but Ben Cartwright’s son? It just didn’t make sense. He hated to see the boy suffer so, but then again a lasting impression needed to be made. He looked down at the knife lying on his desk and shook his head.

Just then, the door to the jailhouse opened and in walked Ben Cartwright.

“What’s the meaning of this, Roy?” he asked in a stern voice.

Joseph scrunched down further in his chair, trying to become invisible.

“Well, Ben…. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Joe was caught stealing this here knife from the mercantile.”

“HE WHAT!!!!” Ben bellowed.

Sheriff Coffee let out a deep sigh and continued.

“He was caught red handed with this knife in his pocket.”

Ben studied his youngest son for a moment. His body language was all the proof he needed to know that what Roy had just said was true. After a long moment, Ben stated, “I believe my son and I should continue this discussion in private.” Roy made quick to honor Ben’s request by excusing himself to do his rounds. Hoss was instructed to wait outside in the wagon.

After a moment, Ben approached his son and asked him to stand. Joe slowly complied, protectively positioning his backside against the sheriff’s desk.

“Look at me, Joseph.”

Tears welled in the young boy’s eyes and he just couldn’t bring himself to look at his Pa.

“Joseph! Look at me.”

This time his father helped with the matter by pushing upward on the boy’s chin.

“I can tell there’s no need to ask if you did it, but I do expect an explanation as to why.”

Joseph swallowed and tried to speak, but the shame was too much and he burst into sobs.

“Oh Pa…. I’m sorry… so sorry. Please forgive me… Don’t let them put me in jail!”

Joseph flung his arms around his father hoping to gain some comfort. Ben wanted to take the boy in his arms and tell him everything would be fine, but he knew he needed to stand firm. He pried the boy’s arms from around his waist and again repeated his request.

“I asked for an explanation, Joseph, and I want it now.”

Little Joe wanted to tell his father everything, but at the same time he was so ashamed.

“I…I… I don’t know, Pa.”

“You don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?” was his father’s retort.

Again, there was silence.

“Alright young man, have it your way.”

Quick as a lick, Ben escorted his son into one of the empty jail cells. He promptly sat down on the cot, positioned Joseph over his lap and proceeded to give the boy a well deserved tanning. When done, Ben looked deep into the eyes of his youngest son and said sternly,

“Joseph, you have committed a crime. Any adult man caught stealing would find themselves locked in this very jail cell! I have never been more disappointed in you than I am at this very moment.”

Joseph averted his eyes. A soft “I…I’m so sorry, Pa” could be heard between the sobs. Ben ignored and continued the lecture.

“You have not accepted responsibility for your actions, nor have you offered an explanation. Until you come to terms with your wrong doings, you’ll have to stay here.”

With these words, Ben quickly walked to the jail cell door and locked his boy inside. Joseph sprung from the cot and pleaded with his father as he watched him storm out of the room. Soon, all was quiet, except for a 10 year old boy, hands covering his face in shame, sobbing uncontrollably.

Ben entered the street and walked over to the wagon.

“Where’s Joe, Pa?” Hoss asked.

“Hopefully doing some thinking, Eric” was his cold response.

Hoss knew when his father called him by his real name that meant you didn’t ask any further questions.

“I need to find Roy and talk with Mr. Anderson over at the mercantile.”

As Ben and Hoss pulled up in front of the mercantile, they recognized a group of Joe’s friends hanging out nearby. The boys saw Mr. Cartwright and tried to pretend like they didn’t see him. Ben noticed their evasive nature and approached the bunch.

“Afternoon, Boys,” he said, distinctly and clearly. His greeting was met with silence.

He then continued, “I assume you’ve all heard what happened with Joseph? Do any of you care to shed some light on this issue?”

Again, silence. A few boys fidgeted with their hands in their pockets, kicking the dirt around with their feet. Ben was losing his patience, so he decided to alienate Joe’s best friend, Mitch.

“Mitch, come here.” he said sternly. Poor Mitch was startled. He stepped forward apprehensively.

“My boy is down at the jail right now refusing to talk. I can tell by your actions that he is not the only one involved in this little adventure. I demand to know what prompted Joseph to steal, and I want to know the truth right now!”

Mitch looked back at his friends who were shaking their heads slightly to encourage him to remain quiet. He heaved a big sigh and nervously began.

“Well, you see Mr. Cartwright, sir…. Uh…well… um…. It was kind of a dare. We didn’t mean to get him into trouble, honest, Mr. Cartwright. It was all in fun.”

“FUN!” Ben boomed. “You call stealing, fun?”

Mitch looked down at the ground.

“Yes, sir… I mean no sir, Mr. Cartwright. But it really wasn’t stealing. You see, we kind of have this club and well, to be a part of it you have to take something from the mercantile, bring it out and show it to us and then go back in and return it. Joe got caught on his way back with it. He wasn’t going to keep it, honest. It was an initiation is all.”

This time it was Mr. Cartwright who was silent. After several moments, he spoke.

“Boys, taking something that doesn’t belong to you is stealing, regardless. You can try to justify your actions, but that’s just making excuses. You were wrong and I think you all know that. Now the question is what are you going to do about it?”

With that, Ben turned and walked slowly toward the wagon. He couldn’t help but hear the conversations beginning between the group of boys.

“Do you think he’s going tell my pa?”

“Oh, shut up Clem, you know he’s gonna.”

“When my pa hears, I won’t be able to sit down for a week.”

“More like a month you mean.”

“What should we do?”

Mitch quietly separated himself from the others and approached Mr. Cartwright’s wagon.

“Mr. Cartwright, please tell Joe I’m sorry for what happened. I know we were all wrong to think up a stupid stunt like that. I can’t speak for the rest, but I plan on talking with Mr. Anderson about what has been going on and…. Well, my pa, too. Maybe if I’m honest with him it will save a few inches of my backside at least.”

Ben noticed the boy inadvertently rubbing his bottom and it was all he could do to hide the smirk on his face. He nodded at the boy and gave him an affirmative, “That a boy, Mitch,” as he rode away.

Joseph sat on the cot with his elbows on his knees. His tear streaked face filled with worry, shame, and sadness. If he had only been honest with his Pa, he wouldn’t be in this situation. Tears started to well in his eyes again as he felt true remorse for his actions. Suddenly, he heard the jailhouse door open and muted conversation from the other side of the wall. He could tell it was his Pa’s voice, which brought both relief and fear. Slowly, the door to the jail cell room opened and Ben Cartwright entered. He unlocked the cell his son was in and was greeted with an instant bear hug around the middle.

“Oh, Pa! I knew you’d come back. I just knew it. I’m…”

Joe tried to continue, but couldn’t. Ben immediately scooped up his sobbing youngest son in his arms and sat cradling him on the cot for quite some time.

“Shhh… It’s okay, son. I know everything now…. I talked with Mitch and the other boys, Joseph.”

The pain on the boy’s face was instantly replaced with relief, which made him hug his Pa even tighter. In time, Ben spoke.

“Joseph. There’s no denying what you did was wrong. I know you are sorry for your actions, but you are still going to have to face the music young man…”

“Are you going to tan me again?” Joe asked.

“No, son. That’s not the kind of music I’m talking about.”

There was a long silence as Ben studied the boy’s puzzled face.

“Everyone makes mistakes, Joseph, but it’s your actions afterwards that determine what people think of you in the long run. What do you think Mr. Anderson, Sheriff Coffee, and the other townspeople thought of you when they heard you stole that knife?”

“They probably thought I was a thief and no good.”

Ben noticed the boy’s lower lip protruding.

“Is that how you want them to continue thinking of you?” Ben asked.

“Golly, no Pa!” Joseph exclaimed.

“Well, what can you do to change their opinion?”

The boy pondered his father’s question for a few moments and then said, “I suppose I could start by apologizing to Sheriff Coffee and Mr. Anderson and explain to them what happened. Oh, I need to return that knife, too.”

Ben smiled at his boy and said, “Well, that’s a start, Joseph, and there’s no time like the present.”

Ben lowered his son to the floor and escorted him out of the cell. As they reached the door, Joseph turned around and took one final look. He glanced up at his Pa and smiled.

“It sure will be nice to be in my own room tonight, Pa.”

Ben gave his boy’s hand a squeeze and replied, “I’m sure it will, Joseph. In fact, something tells me you are going to be seeing a lot of your room the next couple of weeks.”