Summoned back to Savannah to settle Clay’s estate, and accompanied by his father, Little Joe runs afoul of the law.  Dogged by a zealous inspector, Ben and Joe learn the true circumstances behind Clay’s death, putting their lives in peril. Sequel to “In This Life”. Rating T, WC 50,000

In This Life series:

In This Life 

Let the World Stop Turning

 

Let the World Stop Turning

“Let the world stop turning, let the sun stop burning, let them tell me love’s not worth going through.  If it all falls apart, I will know deep in my heart, the only dream that mattered had come true.  In this life I was loved by you.”

(Song: In This Life, lyrics by Mike Reid and Allen Shamblin)

Little Joe Cartwright dropped down on one knee and brushed the inch of fresh snow from off the granite headstone.  It had been rare to see it there so late in the season as spring was only two weeks away.  Still, there in the Sierras weather could be as hard to predict as the people who chose to live in the upper elevations and not in the flatlands closer to the Comstock mines.  The Cartwright family hadn’t chosen to run off in search of gold or silver but rather maintained a large ranch to provide cattle to feed the many miners in the area with the large herd of cattle they raised each year.  They also provided much of the timber which was needed to shore up the mines as the tunnels grew deeper and deeper in the earth.

*** I can’t believe it’s been nine months. *** Little Joe thought to himself as he fished out the well-worn envelope from under the snow lying on the ground next to his mother’s headstone.  He could just barely make out the one word he had written on the front of the letter he had penned.  “Clay,” Joe whispered and then let out a deep mournful sigh.  It had been the first time he’d been up to the grave in the last two months due to the numerous snowstorms which had blanketed the Ponderosa that winter.  But his mind was never far from his brother; the brother he had lost the previous July.

To Little Joe it had seemed like just a blink in time since he had gotten on that train in Carson City and waved goodbye to his brothers, Adam and Hoss, and his father.  That had begun the lengthy trip east to Georgia with such high hopes only to have them turn into a walking nightmare of regret.   His trip involved taking trains, stagecoaches and private carriages to reach Atlanta where he finally met up with his brother Clay.  The two young men hadn’t seen each other in three years and were swept up in their joyous reunion there at the train depot.  Little Joe didn’t know if he had hugged his brother first or if it was the other way around.  But either way, they held onto one another like they hadn’t seen each other in decades. When Clay had left the Ponderosa three years earlier Little Joe wasn’t certain if he’d ever see his brother again.  He had given him one of his most prized possessions, their mother’s locket with her portrait inside.  Joe had pleaded with his brother to bring it back someday.

Setting the envelope back into its former position so that it rested against Marie Cartwright’s headstone, Little Joe pulled himself back to his feet.  He shook his head as his thoughts went back to the reason his brother had written to him the previous spring.  Clay had fallen in love with a young lady from Savannah Georgia, Annabelle Copeland.  The wedding was to take place at her father’s plantation there and Clay wanted his only brother to come and be his best man.  Though Ben Cartwright hadn’t been very thrilled to have his youngest son travel so far away from home and hearth, he had finally relented and that June Joe had begun his trip.

Everything had gone so well, at least in the beginning.  Joe had made all his connections with little delay and had arrived there at the train depot in Atlanta right on schedule.  Then the two brothers had spent an afternoon catching up with all that had gone on in both of their lives.  Joe never remembered seeing his brother looking so happy before and he was thrilled for him.  He knew that Clay had endured many tragedies in his life, including never knowing his parents.  His father had died shortly after he was born, and he and Joe shared a mother who Clay had been stolen away from as a baby.  His paternal grandparents had kept the fact that his mother was alive from the boy until their death.  It was many years later that Clay had learned that Marie had married someone named Ben Cartwright and had moved to Nevada.  He also discovered that his mother had ultimately died, but that she had borne one other child; Little Joe.  The day that Clay had finally met his brother he felt like he was no longer all alone in the world.  And Ben and his other sons welcomed him to the Ponderosa and treated him like a part of the family.  After only a few days, they had offered to let him stay there with them on a permanent basis.  But, as Clay had often said, trouble seemed to follow him wherever he went.  And due to that fact, he had left after only spending a month getting to know his only living relative.  The sad night when the two brothers had said goodbye, Joe had given Clay the locket.

Reaching inside the pocket of his green corduroy jacket, Joe removed that same locket and had to fight back tears.  The city of Savannah, with its trees that dripped with Spanish moss and the strange other-worldly feel to it seemed so foreign to him, and the memory of his stay in Georgia still haunted him.  Though being with his brother and later his sister-in-law too had been one of the happiest times in his life, what followed the wedding was horrible.  Annabelle’s father had been the first one to come down with yellow fever, succumbing to it the day after the wedding.  And two days later Annabelle took sick with the same disease.  Little Joe learned the hard way that folks in the South were spooked by anyone who was declared to have yellow fever and would go so far as to set fire to a house if they thought it would stop the spread of what they called, “Yellow Jack”.  Joe had done the best he could to try and help Clay by assisting him in caring for his bride only to have his brother come down with yellow fever too.  Day after day Little Joe had tried to make both his brother and sister-in-law comfortable as he prepared food and mopped their feverish brows.  But then he, too, came down with the disease and Clay had forced him to go to bed.

The wind whipped up from Lake Tahoe and Little Joe felt the last few snow flurries of the season.  They dotted his face which was already wet from a few spent tears.  Closing his eyes the memory of what Clay had done next still sent a sharp pain to his heart.  Though he was weakened due to the fever, his brother had come into Joe’s bedroom and mopped his forehead trying to ease his pain and will him back to health.  That was when Clay had informed Joe that Annabelle had passed away.  Joe tried to help his brother, but he was inconsolable.  He had ranted and raved that there were town’s folks that were gathering to set fire to the plantation house unless he placed his bride’s body outside so they could remove and burn it.  Clay was incensed at the very thought and told his brother that he was going to fight them off to his dying breath.  That’s all it had taken for Joe to get out of bed and insist on helping him.  Clay had gone into the front hall and blasted a shotgun round straight through one of the windows trying to keep the throng of torch-wielding madmen from destroying the place and all who were inside.  Joe watched as the entire heartbreaking scene played in his mind.

*** “Clay?” Joe spoke out weakly.  “Clay, you need to be in bed – I’ll be okay – you go back to bed – you need to stay with Annabelle.”

“Joe – little brother – Annabelle – well – she died today.  Joe, the only thing that matters to me now is you.  You aren’t going to die, do you hear?  Now drink this down – do it!”

Joe was barely able to lift his head, but he didn’t want to make Clay attempt to do it, so he used whatever reserves he had left.  He slowly sipped the broth.  “Clay – oh Clay!  I’m so sorry – so sorry – but you can’t give up – Annabelle wouldn’t like that – not one damn bit!  Please – please fight.  I need you – fight for me and I’ll fight for you,” Joe pleaded.

“Rest, Joe – I’ve got to go check the doors.”

“Check the doors?  Why?  Why do you need to check the doors?”

“Because they’ll come to take Annabelle and I won’t let that happen.  I’d sooner die here with her.  Just stay down, Joe.” Clay walked off into the other room.

Joe didn’t know where he had found the strength to get out of his sick bed, but he did.  He was filled with terror over what Clay had said.  Joe could read it in the angry eyes of his brother that no-one was going to take his wife away even in death.”

“Clay!” Joe called after he had pulled on his shirt and boots.  He halfway fell into the hall when he heard the sound close to the front door.  “Clay!” Joe shouted again.  He heard the blast of the shotgun and heard Clay yelling something.

Finding his way to the front door, Joe saw Clay leaning there next to one of the big picture windows off to one side.  Clay had fired right through the windowpane.

“I scared the hell out of those bastards, Joe,” Clay cast a weak smile over to his brother.

“Clay why do they want to take Annabelle?  I don’t understand?”

“To burn her – they want to burn the love of my life, Joe.  I won’t let them.  And I won’t let them hurt my brother either!” Clay exclaimed.

“Tell me where the guns are – I can’t find my bags – my Colt was inside of one of them, but both of the bags are missing.  Do you have a pistol or another shotgun?”

Clay smiled as he settled his hand down onto Joe’s shoulder.  “That’s right – you and me, Joe.  Remember when I said we’d go on down to Mexico and see how the revolution was going?  Well, you and I will have our own little revolution right here in Savannah!  I’ll tell you what I’ll do – there’s a secret passageway that Annabelle’s father showed me and it’s chock full of pistols and rifles.  We’ve just got to make it down to the basement.  It’s dark so follow me – give me your hand, Brother.” ***

It had been at that moment that Clay had told him to follow him to the dark staircase which led down to the basement.  Little Joe, weakened due to yellow fever, had held onto his brother’s hand as they made their way to the sublevel of the house.  He had been told that Clay was going to get him one of the guns which were stored there.  But, unbeknownst to Little Joe, that hadn’t been part of his brother’s plan all along.  Before he knew what was going on, Clay had shoved Joe outside and barred the door so he couldn’t get back in.  He had banged on the door begging his brother to let him come in to help him.  It was then that Little Joe had seen what Clay had shoved into his hand right before pushing him outside.  It was their mother’s locket.  And Clay had uttered the same words he had said when he left Nevada three years before.  He told Little Joe to “go back home where you belong.”

Brushing aside his tears, Joe drew in a deep breath wishing that he had been more alert back then, so he could’ve prevented what happened next.  The house had been set on fire by the torches which had sailed through the air.  Though he had continually pounded on the basement door, it had been of no effect.  Only then did he feel the massive arms lifting him up.  A six-foot six-inch giant of a man named Rene, who was a friend of his brother’s, had been watching and waiting for his chance to take Little Joe to safety.  It was only later that Joe had realized that Clay had told Rene to be ready to grab his brother and carry him away where he wouldn’t get hurt by the angry mob.  Afterwards that same huge man had tended to Joe, even hiding him in the snake and alligator infested swamps to avoid the enraged town’s folks who assumed that he had brought yellow fever from Nevada with him.  Joe knew that if it hadn’t been for Rene that he would’ve surely died.  Once more he knew that Clay was aware of that fact and had charged his friend, Rene, with getting his brother out of Savannah somehow.

Little Joe shook his head wearily and walked away from the grave and down the well-worn path to the main trail where his horse waited.  He remembered standing at his mother’s grave with his father the day he had returned from his trip.  Back then he had been suffering from the latent effects of yellow fever plus a case of what those in the South called, “swamp fever” otherwise known as malaria.  It had taken Little Joe all winter to regain his strength and to rid himself of both the terrible cough and the slight yellow cast to his complexion due to both diseases.  Joe swung up onto Cochise and cast one parting glance up the trail.  He still wished that he could’ve brought his brother’s remains back home with him.  Little Joe thought that at the very least Clay deserved a decent burial instead of the rushed one he’d gotten due to the situation.   The following night carrying only one lantern with them to evade detection, he and Rene had sifted through what remained of the charred plantation house.  Amid the confusion and needed secrecy Joe had found Annabelle’s body and Rene had located Clay’s.  The two of them buried the couple underneath a large oak just a mile or so from the main house.  It had been that oak tree where he, his brother, and Annabelle had all carved their initials on a much happier occasion right before the wedding.

“Let’s go, Cooch,” Little Joe muttered as he patted the horse’s neck.  He needed to go back to the ranch house where he could stand in his bedroom and look at the photograph that had been taken of his brother and him.  It was the only tangible thing he had left of Clay now.

---

Ben Cartwright shuffled through the mail that had piled up on his desk while he had been away for two days at a Cattleman’s Association meeting in Carson City.  He hated to handle such things, but as he was the patriarch those duties fell on him especially with his eldest son away.  Both his two older boys had gone on a business trip, which meant he didn’t have Adam to help sort the bills from the contracts that seemed to arrive en masse at the beginning of spring.  As he finally got to the bottom of the pile, he noticed a telegram which had been folded and just tucked in with the regular mail.  Ben shook his head, presuming that Hop Sing had put it there while trying to tidy up the place.

Leaning back in his chair, Ben studied the wire and the worry lines on his face deepened, showing his growing apprehension.  He certainly wasn’t expecting to hear from Doctor James Hardin, one of the men Ben credited with saving his son, Joseph’s life.  It was Doctor Hardin who had nursed Joe back to health after the boy struggled through brutal bouts of both yellow fever and malaria.  Once more, he had harbored Joseph in his home, risking his own life to do so.  Ben read the telegram for a second time, then stood from his desk, wondering how his youngest son would take the doctor’s news.  He had hoped that Joseph was done with the Deep South for good.  Traveling to his brother Clay’s wedding had brought the boy nothing but sorrow—and it had almost gotten him killed.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Ben turned at the sound of the front door opening.  He glanced across the room as Little Joe walked over to the credenza and unfastened his jacket.  He was completely unaware of the fact that his father was watching him.

“Well, you’re back just in time for supper!  Welcome home, Son,” Ben greeted his youngest.  He slipped the telegram inside the pocket of his vest, deciding the news could hold off for a little while.

“Hi, Pa,” Joe grinned, unbuckling his holster and setting it on top of the credenza next to Ben’s.  Coming out of his jacket, he turned toward his father.   “How did it go in Carson City?”

“Oh, it went fine – some of the speakers were a bit long-winded – but I survived.  How did it go with the herd?  Did we lose many down at South Shore?”

Little Joe removed his hat and hung it up on the rack next to the door.  As he approached Pa he ran his fingers through his curly hair.  “Those ornery cows are doing okay – made it through that last snowstorm without any problem.  I left them with Fletcher and Cody.  They can babysit the herd until we move them up to the northern pastureland next week,” he said, clapping his father on the back.

Ben studied his son’s face, unsure of what he was seeing in his eyes.  Joseph wore a carefree smile, but as usual, it seemed forced.  Ben knew that his son hadn’t gotten over the loss of his brother Clay, and it had been so long since he’d seen a genuine smile on Joseph’s lips that he wondered if he’d ever see one there again.  And though he’d heard the boy’s laughter in the past couple of months since returning from the horrors he’d encountered in Savannah, there was still a little something missing in the sound of it as well. He draped his arm over the boy’s shoulder, pulling him close.  “Enough about meetings and cows.  How are you doing, Son?” He asked softly.

Joe dropped his gaze, a wry smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.  He never understood how his father managed to pick up on his every mood – but the man always had.  “I’m fine, Pa.”

“Did you run into much snow today?”

“No – Pa, it hasn’t snowed down at South Shore the last two days,” He explained as they walked over to the fireplace.  Ben took a seat in his red leather chair and Little Joe lighted down on his usual perch on top of the coffee table.

“I know,” Ben returned and offered an understanding smile.  “Well, you couldn’t have found any flowers to take up to your mother – since there’s nothing blooming yet.”

“How do you always do it, Pa?” Joe wondered, shaking his head.  “How do you always know where I’ve gone?”

Hop Sing walked into the room before Ben had the chance to answer his son.  He set a fresh pot of coffee on the table along with two cups and saucers.

“Thank you, Hop Sing,” Ben nodded gratefully to the man.

“Dinner ready in half hour,” The cook addressed his American family.  “Little Joe – you wash before come to Hop Sing table,” He insisted and then as quickly as he had come into the room he left.

Little Joe laughed and clapped a hand onto his father’s arm.  “When did you sell him our dining table, Pa?”

Ben grinned and shook his head amused.  He watched as his son poured them both some coffee and handed him a cup.  “Thank you,” He nodded to the boy and slowly sipped his coffee.

Little Joe fixed his own cup and then looked back over at his pa.  “You never answered me, Pa.  How do you always seem to know where I’ve gone?”

Leaning back in his chair, Ben returned, “Oh, I just figured that you hadn’t had a chance to get up there in a while and since the snow was about gone, I thought that’s what you’d do.”

“Didn’t know I was that easy to read,” Joe chuckled and sipped his coffee.  “Hey any word from Adam and Hoss?  I’ve been running around chasing cows the last three days and had to sleep out on the cold hard ground while they’ve been sleeping on nice soft beds.  So, did you get word from Tonopah yet?”

“I know you would’ve preferred to be with your brothers in a hotel ordering room service, Joseph.  But someone had to stay here and tend to the herd, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s the last time I draw straws with my brothers.  I think Hoss rigged them somehow!”

Setting his coffee cup on the table, Ben stared knowingly at his youngest.  “Well, if your brother Hoss “rigged” them he learned how to do it from you, Young Man!”

Laughter filled the living room, the strange trilling kind which was uniquely Joseph Cartwright’s.  “Okay – guilty as charged,” He nodded with a grin.  “So? When are they coming back?”

“Adam wired me in Carson City yesterday.  They concluded their business and should be here the day after tomorrow.”

“That’s good – it’s too quiet here without those two loudmouths!”

“Joseph?”

“Yeah, Pa?”

With a not-so-subtle point of his finger in the direction of the staircase, Ben returned, “Go wash up – to appease Hop Sing and so I can have a few minutes of peace.”

Amused, Joe shook his head as he stood from the coffee table.  “Oh, Pa, you know you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if at least one of your sons wasn’t around to liven things up!”

Fighting a smile, Ben simply pointed at the stairs again and watched as his son obeyed his command, heading up to his room.  Just as soon as Joe was gone from sight, he pulled the telegram out of his pocket and sighed.  He wished he could just toss the thing into the fireplace, but he knew he’d have to tell Joseph after supper was over.  His son was twenty-one years old and had the right to know what was going on in Georgia, but Ben dreaded hearing what the boy planned to do about it.

---

The conversation at supper that night largely concentrated on what needed to be done the next day and plans to move the herd the following week.  Ben purposely kept his responses to his son’s questions lighthearted, knowing that he’d soon have to inform the boy about the telegram still secreted inside his vest pocket.  Just as soon as Hop Sing had removed the two dinner plates Ben excused himself and walked into the next room.  When he returned, he carried with him a bottle of wine.

Joe suspiciously eyed his father as he sat back down in his chair and reached for the two wineglasses which Hop Sing had provided them.

“What’s the occasion, Pa?” Little Joe asked as his father handed him a glass filled to the brim with wine.  “I thought you were saving that bottle for a special occasion?”

Shrugging his shoulders noncommittally, Ben lifted his glass and returned, “Oh, it’s been a long week – so I thought that we both earned this.  Afterall, you handled those ornery cows, and I had to spend two days listening to cattlemen drone on about various things I already knew.”

Little Joe wasn’t buying what his father had just said.  He took a few sips of his wine and cast another suspicious glance to his left where Pa seemed uncharacteristically nervous for some reason.

“This wine sure tastes better than the last kind I had.  I didn’t like the stuff that I had to mix with those quinine packets you and Doc forced on me!” he exclaimed, still waiting for Pa to come out with whatever he was purposely keeping from him.  He could tell that something wasn’t quite right by the way his father had been a bit too quick in his response and the way he looked very uncomfortable sitting there next to him.

“Well, those quinine packets helped get you over that bad case of malaria, Young Man,” Ben answered, a forced smile on his lips.  “However, I will admit the wine mixed with quinine didn’t look very appetizing to me.”

An uneasy silence fell over the room with neither Ben nor Joe speaking.  Little Joe waited for his father to pipe up but it appeared that he was holding his cards close to his vest that night.  When he could no longer wait to find out what his father had been keeping from him, Joe finally spoke out.

“Come on, Pa –I can tell that something’s wrong – so you might as well tell me.”

Frowning, Ben drew in a deep breath.  He knew that he was just as easy to read as his youngest at times and this was one of those occasions.  Reaching inside his vest, Ben drew out the telegram.

“Joseph, this was delivered to the house while we were gone.  It was meant for you.  Here,” He handed it to his son.

Leaning back in his chair, Joe studied what the telegrapher had written.

*** To Joseph Cartwright, Virginia City, Nevada.  From Doctor James Hardin, Atlanta, Georgia.  Joe, need you back in Georgia.  Your brother Clay’s attorney has sent me word that you’ve inherited the Copeland estate.  You must take possession or it will be turned over to the state.  Also, Rene has been charged with the disappearance of a man and is on the run.  He needs your help.  Please contact me as soon as you receive this, sincerely, James. ***

Ben watched as his son suddenly fell back in his chair; the piece of paper held tightly in his hands.  Joseph just stared at the telegram; his eyes fixed on it with stunned confusion on his face.  Knowing that the news had come as a shock to him, Ben reached over and poured Joe another glass of wine.

After a few quiet minutes had passed, Ben leaned over, placing a gentle hand on his son’s arm he asked, “Are you okay?”

Joe shook his head, troubled by all he had read.  He finally looked over at his father with a sobering pain in his eyes that reflected the haunting memories of his last trip to Savannah.  “I wasn’t expecting this, Pa.”

“I know,” Ben nodded.

“I don’t want anything to do with that plantation.  I don’t know why I would inherit it anyhow,” Joe sounded out bitterly, filled with an inner turmoil he couldn’t control nor quell.

Giving the boy’s arm a slight squeeze, he said, “Well, you told me that Mister Copeland didn’t have any kin other than his daughter Annabelle.  I suppose once she and Clay were married it would’ve been considered theirs when he passed away.  Since Annabelle preceded Clay in death, it would’ve gone to him.  And once your brother died it would go to his only relative—you.”

Joe’s expression went from shock to sudden anger.  He drank some of his wine as he thought back to the horrendous way he had been treated after his brother’s death.  Joe would never forget the way he had been hunted down just because he had contracted yellow fever.  Frightening days spent in the Georgia swamps along with Rene were never far from his mind.  They had endured the terrible heat along with both snakes and alligators just because of the superstitious people there who had been chasing them down with hunting dogs and rifles.  He also blamed the townsfolk for his brother’s death.  It had been an angry mob that had set the plantation on fire, burning it down around his brother and his deceased sister-in-law.

“I hate that place!” Little Joe snapped, raising his left hand in gesture and with his jaw clenched tight.

Ben reached over and caught his son’s arm, trying to quiet him.  He waited until Joe’s eyes met his.  “I know you do, Joseph.  You don’t have to do anything about the estate if you don’t want to.  You can just wire Doctor Hardin and let him know.”

Joe stared down at the telegram drawing in a long, shaky breath.  “But Rene, Pa — he’s in trouble.  That man is the only reason I’m still breathing.  He saved me from those monsters who tried to kill me.  Rene needs my help, and I can’t just turn my back on him.”

His father paused, choosing his words with deliberate care.  “Can’t Doctor Hardin help Rene himself?  Surely, he doesn’t expect you to travel clear across the country for this.  There must be someone closer to Savannah who can step in.”

“Doctor Hardin wouldn’t know how to find him, Pa.  Nobody would.  But I spent enough time with Rene to know how he thinks.  I can find where he’s hiding, and I can help him.”

Ben shook his head adamantly, “I just don’t want you going back there, Son.  As for the estate – well – I can have our attorney handle that for you.”

Little Joe stared intently into his father’s eyes.  He read the deep worry in them and understood exactly why it was there.  Joe was aware of the fact that he had terrified his father the previous year.  A trip that was supposed to last two months had stretched into six.  And to make matters worse, he had finally returned home deathly sick, plagued by the remnants of both yellow fever and malaria.  But Joe couldn’t turn his back on Rene now.  He owed the man far too much for everything he had done for him.

“Pa – Rene can barely talk!  People see him and assume he’s some kind of monster just because he’s so big, and they think he’s stupid.  But I can understand him.  He only utters a few partial words, but I got used to it while we were on the run.”

“There’s no way of knowing if you’d even locate him, Joseph,” his father countered, his voice heavy as he tried to talk sense into the boy.

“I’ve just got to try, Pa – for Rene’s sake – and for Clay’s.   He was his friend – and he helped all of us when we were so sick.  I’ve got to go – no matter how much I detest that place!  I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least go down there and try to help him.  Pa, it’s important to me,” Joe returned, his eyes burning with an intensity that his father hadn’t witnessed before.

Ben leaned back in his chair, quietly studying his son’s face.  He recognized that look.  Underneath the fierce determination, Joe was asking for his father’s help and understanding.  Ben drew in a long heavy breath and gave a slow, barely perceptible shake of his head.

Ben sat forward, his temporary softness vanishing.  “You’re not going,” Ben stated firmly.

“But Pa – I have to,” Joe protested, his voice cracking with raw emotion.  “You don’t understand – I have to!”

“You’re not going,” Ben repeated, his voice carrying a stern inflection that left no room for debate.

Little Joe stared down at the table, his lips twisting into a scowl.  A hot surge of anger flared because his father refused to see why this trip was an obligation he couldn’t ignore.  Beneath the rage, a sharper ache took root.  He was deeply hurt that Pa could be so completely dismissive.

It was at that precise moment that Ben made the sudden move.  With a calloused hand he reached over and caught the back of his son’s neck, pulling Joe toward him in a firm embrace.  “You’re not going —,” he paused and then forced his son’s gaze, “without me,” he announced emphatically.  The tension between them evaporated as Ben’s mouth formed into a small, knowing grin.

Joe nodded, letting out a calming breath as he returned his father’s smile.  He really should have known that his Pa was just testing his resolve, but that stern countenance had fooled him completely.  “Thanks, Pa,” Joe whispered gratefully.

---

Once the dinner dishes had been cleared, Ben and Joe moved to the living room.  Sitting next to the fireplace they mapped out their journey and set a departure date.  They couldn’t leave immediately; they had to wait for Hoss and Adam to return so they could explain the situation and justify why a sudden trip to Georgia was absolutely necessary.  Joe quickly drafted a reply to Doctor Hardin, planning to send the wire the next day.  By eleven o’clock that evening, they finally headed to bed.

Sleep refused to come, no matter how hard Joe tried.  The thought of returning to Savannah filled him with a restless dread.  After two hours of useless tossing and turning, he slipped out of bed and headed downstairs.  He hoped to borrow one of Adam’s books, praying that a few pages of his brother’s heavy reading would quiet his mind and make him drowsy.

The flames in the fireplace had died down to embers, leaving the room downright chilly, dark, and far too quiet.  Joe paced the floor for several minutes.  His mind drifted back to his homecoming three months prior.  The memories were still raw; he remembered the paralyzing fear that he was contagious to the people he loved.  He had isolated himself from his family, refusing to let anyone close, and had desperately insisted that Hop Sing boil all his utensils just to keep them all safe. Though Doctor Martin reassured him that the yellow fever was gone – leaving nothing but a lingering yellow tint to Joe’s skin that would eventually fade – Joe was also battling malaria.  He couldn’t be absolutely sure if that disease was contagious too, and that lingering doubt kept him frozen in fear of touching anyone.  It had been a terrible time in his life, made worse because he was still struggling with the crushing weight of losing his brother Clay.  He had finally spoken with his father late one night, breaking down to confess exactly how his brother had died, and how he had saved Joe’s life by shoving him outside to safety just in time before the house went up in flames. His father had tried to comfort him, but Little Joe had violently pushed him away out of pure terror that he was contagious.  His anxiety peaked that night when Ben caught a simple cold.  Every time his father coughed, Joe’s heart seized; he was convinced he had passed on yellow fever.  Because he had returned home with a cough of his own, Joe was entirely certain that Pa was going to come down with the dreaded disease.

Little Joe stood in front of the dying fireplace and closed his eyes.  Instantly, the sights and sounds of that fateful night rushed back to him – cutting just as deeply and painfully as he remembered them to be.  Joe opened his eyes and his gaze fell to the coffee table where the heart-wrenching scene had unfolded three months earlier.  He would never forget how he had finally broken down and told Pa the circumstances behind Clay’s death; no more than he would ever forget how the loving arms of his father had tried to shield him from the pain of it all.

*** Joe collapsed down onto his knees dropping his head onto his folded arms there on top of the coffee table.  With sobs shaking his frail body he cried over the loss of his brother.  Pa went down to his knees right alongside his son and attempted to pull him to his chest in order to help bear his sorrow and his burden.  Joe pushed his father back roughly, so swept up in his fear of somehow giving Pa yellow fever.

“Go away, Pa!  Get back!” Joe shouted.

Ben refused to stop trying to comfort his son and finally, after three failed attempts, he was successful in bringing his youngest up into his arms.

“No!  No, Pa!  I don’t want to lose you too, Pa!” Joe cried out in desperation struggling to pull himself free from his father’s tight hold.  “I can’t lose you — I can’t!  I’ve already made you sick —let me go Pa — I won’t lose you too!” Joe’s pleas shot out filled with raw panic and uncontrollable fear.

“You didn’t make me sick, Joseph— and you’re not going to lose me!  It’s okay – it’s okay – I’ve got you — you’re safe now – you don’t have to run away from me anymore,” Ben whispered as he knelt there rocking Joe back and forth in his strong unrelenting hold, never releasing his son from his embrace.

“Oh – Pa,” Joe cried as he finally surrendered to the love and compassion he found there in his father’s arms.

“It’s going to be okay – it’s going to be okay, Joseph,” Ben reassured as he ran his fingers through his son’s hair in an attempt to calm him.

“Clay – Clay, I lost him, Pa – I tried to get back in, but he wouldn’t let me.  I lost him – and then when you got sick – I thought I had given you the fever —and when I heard you cough – oh, Pa — I can’t lose you too!” Joe convulsed in tears so swept up in the intense dread which had been realized when he lost his brother and later had thought he would lose his father as well.  He buried his face in his father’s chest and tried to believe that his Pa would be alright.  He had been so petrified that he would lose his father, and his anxiety had only grown in magnitude the minute he had heard him coughing.  “You – you really don’t have what I have?  I didn’t give it to you?”

Ben smiled and shook his head.  “It’s just a cold, Joseph – just a little cold – nothing’s going to happen to me,” He whispered and pressed his lips to his son’s forehead for the first time since Joe had come home.

“But – Pa – I’m still sick – still have a cough – still have a yellow cast to my skin– and that thirst that doesn’t go away,” Joe’s worries had finally gone full circle as he listed all of his symptoms.

“You’re not contagious – you haven’t been contagious since you got home – you’re the only one who thought that you were.  There’s a much stronger chance of you getting my cold now than me getting anything from you, Joseph.  And you are going to get better – you’ve just got to give it some time.  You’ll see,” Ben whispered.

Joe closed his eyes and for the first time in over five months he didn’t feel like he had to push everyone away in order to protect them from the disease he carried.  Pa was there holding him and Joe finally realized that he didn’t have to feel guilty about not running away from the love which he was freely offering him.  At long last he was starting to believe that he wasn’t going to make Pa sick, nor anyone else in his family sick, no matter how bad his coughing got or what his skin looked like.  The persecution was left back there in Georgia; it hadn’t really followed him home after all.  There wasn’t anyone outside getting ready to set the place on fire or hunt him down and force him to seek shelter in the swamp.  That horror had been left two thousand miles away in Georgia as well.  Joe breathed easy and drew strength from the man in whose arms he now rested.  It was at that moment that he finally realized that he was safe and he was home. ***

“Joseph?” Ben called out softly from the bottom of the staircase.  He had been standing in the shadows for several minutes, watching his son and trying to determine if he should approach the boy or simply leave him to his thoughts.

Forcing himself to shake off his vivid recollection of that night three months ago, Joe turned toward his father’s voice.  Left without words, he stood in silence and simply watched him draw closer.

“Son – you need to get some sleep,” he said. Placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder he added, “We’ve got a trip to get ready for.”

Little Joe nodded, looking up to meet his father’s gaze.  “I know, Pa,” he murmured, his voice quiet in the dark room.  “I was just down here thinking.”

He patted his son’s shoulder, and with a gentle smile Pa replied, “You’ll have plenty of time to think about all this tomorrow.  Come on now, off to bed, Young Man.”

Little Joe turned toward the staircase with his father.  He knew Pa was right.  They had at least three weeks of cross-country travel ahead of them before reaching Savannah – plenty of time for him to relive the nightmare of his last visit to that vile place.  He silently prayed that Rene could hold out until they arrived.  Still dwelling on the past as well as the long trip that lay ahead, Joe walked alongside his father up the stairs.

---

Three days after receiving the telegram from Doctor Hardin, the four Cartwrights made their way into Carson City.  Adam and Hoss were there to bid goodbye to Ben and Little Joe, bringing them into town in the buckboard.  Joe had hurried off on some errands as the other three men waited at the train depot.

“Just where is your brother?” Ben asked, checking his pocket watch yet again, his thumb impatiently snapping the gold lid shut for the fourth time.  He squinted into the bright midday sun, scanning both ends of the street as his irritation grew with every passing minute that the boy failed to reappear.  He let out a sharp, heavy sigh, growing annoyed with his son’s sudden urge to run off into some of the shops with the train’s departure looming.  “Doesn’t that boy know that you can’t keep a train waiting?” He fussed, growing more exasperated with every minute that the boy hadn’t reappeared.

“Relax, Pa,” Hoss tried to calm his father who he could see was on edge due to the long trip ahead of him.  He exchanged a knowing glance at Adam who nodded his way.   “Little Joe said he just had to pick up a couple of things.”

Ben shot the index finger of his right hand down at the bags sitting on the platform just to the right of Adam’s boots.  “A few more things?  He’s packed half of the house inside those bags already!”

“Here he comes now!” Adam announced as he watched his little brother running toward them, his arms laden down with a brand-new carpet bag and what looked like a cigar box.

The three men turned when the high sharp whistle pierced the air drawing a thick line of black smoke across the sky.

“Sorry, Pa,” Joe called out of breath as he came to a dead stop there in front of the man.

“Joseph—are you going to start this trip by aggravating me?” Ben asked, raising his eyebrows.  “And what in the devil did you have to buy?  We’ve already packed more than we’ll ever need!”

Hoss piped up, trying to help quell his father’s tirade, if only for Little Joe’s sake.  He was aware that his brother hadn’t been prepared to have to go back to Georgia and for the past two days the boy had looked awfully glum.  “You gonna start smoking cigars, Little Brother?” He kidded, seeing the box the boy held in his right hand.

Leaning in closer to Hoss, Joe whispered, “Not cigars, Hoss – ammunition.  Just like I told you I was gonna bring.”

Hoss chuckled and clapped his brother’s back, “Good thinking, Little Joe.  Hey you and Pa bring Adam and me back an alligator, okay?”

Ben shook his head and groaned.  He stepped back when the porter appeared.

“Take your bags, Sir?” a young man asked, smiling up at the silver haired passenger.

Nodding, Ben pointed, “Those four there, thank you.”

The man hefted the luggage, managing them all underneath both of his arms.  “Train’s boarding in two minutes, Sir.”

“We’ll be right there,” Ben answered and then turned to his two older boys.  “Well, you both take care of yourselves,” he said and shook each of their hands.  “Oh – Adam – I showed you where I put the DeSanto contracts, didn’t I?”

Grinning, Adam nodded his head and returned, “Only about a half of a dozen times, Pa.  Relax, Hoss and I’ll see to all the business and get the herd squared away.  Don’t worry about anything.”

“Hoss?” Ben turned to his middle boy, wrapping an arm around the big man’s shoulder.  “You’ll keep on top of those new hands up at the mill?  I told them that they would get their pay every other Friday, but there’s been some arguments because the old timers get paid every week.  Make sure there’s no troublemakers in the bunch I just hired.”

Hoss patted his father’s shoulder and smiled knowingly at him.  “Pa – I’ll take care of it.  Just have a good trip and wire us when you and Joe get to Georgia.”

Ben felt a bit emotional about leaving his older boys and a bit guilty.  They had just arrived home two days prior, and he didn’t feel like he had spent enough time with them.

“Pa, everything will be fine,” Adam reassured him, noticing his father’s creased brow and the look of apprehension all over his face.

“We’ll wire you from Atlanta – and then once we get to Savannah.  I know you two boys will handle things just the same as I would – but – well –” he trailed off.

Hoss and Adam each clapped their father on the back and offered him a calming smile to ease his mind.  They knew that Pa never liked to travel too far from home.  They both had agreed that he should accompany Little Joe just to make sure he would make it back in one piece and not in the terrible condition he had come home from Georgia the last time.

The loud blast of the train whistle sounded out once again.  Little Joe gave Hoss a quick hug and patted Adam on the back.  “See you two – tend to Cochise for me, okay?”

“We will,” Adam returned with a nod.  He was cognizant of the fact that Joe didn’t want to go back to the place where his brother Clay had died but due to his loyalty to the man who had saved his life, he was dead set on going anyway.

“Be good, Little Brother!” Hoss grinned and stood back as both his father and younger brother walked over to board the train.  “Don’t forget that alligator!”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Joe winked and prepared to board.

“Goodbye, Boys,” Ben called out, waving a final farewell to his sons.  He grabbed the handrail, and along with his youngest, climbed the iron steps of the open platform, disappearing inside the coach just as the train gave a violent, metal clapping jerk forward.

---

Joe and his father took their seats just to the left of the coach next to one of the windows of the car.  The blast of the locomotive whistle sounded again, and the train began to pick up speed which could be heard by the loud sounds of metal grinding against the tracks.  Ben glanced over at his son and noticed that he looked apprehensive, his posture rigid sitting there.  He presumed that was normal as they were leaving the high desert of Nevada and heading thousands of miles east.  Their trip would be a daunting one, across fractured country – a trip that would force them to change trains, cross vast territories, and jump onto stagecoaches and private carriages to reach their destination.

Noting his son’s uneasiness along with the fearful look on his face, Ben reached over and placed a reassuring hand on Joe’s shoulder, pressing down firmly.

“Relax, Joseph – it’s a long trip but we’ll get there.” He whispered, leaning over to his son.

Little Joe nodded over to Pa and offered an uncomfortable smile.  “I know, Pa – it’s just what’s waiting for us in Savannah, that’s worrying me – not the trip.”

“Well, we’re going to talk with Doctor Hardin first – he’ll be able to better explain to us the circumstances behind what’s going on with Rene.  Joseph, what’s in that bag by the way?  I thought we’d already packed enough?” Ben pointed to the one carpet bag sitting at his son’s feet.

This time Joe’s smile was authentic as he held the cigar box close to his chest.  “Oh – I did a little extra shopping.  It’s just something I thought that we might need.  I’ll put this inside my carpetbag,” He answered cryptically.  Leaning forward he opened the bag and carefully placed the box inside, closing it up quickly.

Both amused and a bit annoyed by his son’s secrecy, Ben shook his head as he studied the boy’s face.  He never exactly knew what to expect from his youngest anymore.  “What’s the big secret?”

“I’ll show you once we get to Georgia, Pa,” Joe whispered and then finally leaned back in his seat.

“Don’t you want to stow that with our other bags instead of having it there at your feet?  I can ask the porter to move it in the back with the rest of our luggage?” he asked, still curious over what the boy was purposely keeping from him.

Joe shook his head adamantly, “No, Pa – I’d feel better if I just kept it here next to me.”

Ben knew better than to force the issue with his son.  Joseph would tell him in his own good time he presumed.  “Well, one thing’s for sure – these seats are more comfortable than those on the Overland Stage.”

Joe grinned and nodded his head as he watched Pa dip his hat down over his eyes.

“Let’s both just try to relax and maybe get in a nap,” Ben offered, reclining so his head rested on the back of the seat.

Following suit, Little Joe pulled the brim of his hat down to shade his eyes and tried to sleep.  They had plenty of time to rest as it would be weeks before they’d arrive in Georgia.

---

Three straight weeks of cross-country travel brought Ben and Joe into Atlanta Georgia.  The last leg of their trip was spent on the Western and Atlantic Railroad, the company where Clay had worked during the two years prior to his death.  When Joe purchased the tickets for his father and him, the owner of the company, Nathaniel Hampton, had gone out of his way to make sure they would have a comfortable trip.  The man had advised the railroad staff to see to their needs including changing trains to get them to Savannah.  Mister Hampton had grown very fond of Clay and still grieved for him.  Thus, he had taken it upon himself to assist Clay’s brother and father in making their connections on time.

Joe stared out the window as they began to pull into the train depot there in Atlanta.  He couldn’t help thinking back to his and his brother’s joyous reunion there at the station the previous summer.  Joe’s eyes scanned the mass of travelers as the train pulled up at the station, secretly hoping to see Clay still standing there waiting for him to come out onto the platform.

Ben hadn’t missed the way his son had a faraway look in his eyes as he sat there staring down at the crowd below.  He recalled the night that Joseph had finally shared the story of how his reunion with Clay had begun.  Through tears the boy had explained all that had happened the day that his brother had met the train there in the Union Depot.  Ben presumed that Joseph was trapped inside those same memories and he didn’t want to interrupt his thoughts.  However, the train had come to a screeching halt and it was time for them to grab their bags and step out onto the platform.

“Joseph?” Ben finally had to shake his son’s shoulder to bring him back to the reality that awaited them.  “Time to leave – grab that bag of yours and let’s go.”

A bit embarrassed that he hadn’t heard his father earlier, Joe nodded to him and stood from his seat.  He reached for the carpet bag that he’d kept close to him the whole trip and placed it under his left arm.  Together they disembarked the coach and stared at the throng of people milling about in the crowded railroad depot.

“It’s not Virginia City, is it, Pa?” Joe quipped as he watched his father staring at the mass of people that surrounded them.  It was like a vast wave of folks and everyone hurrying to either catch a train or meet someone there at the station.  It was far from the little mining town of Virginia City both in miles and in the volume of people that crowded around them.

Ben shook his head and returned his son’s smile.  He placed an arm around Joe’s shoulder and said, “No – it’s not.  Now let’s make sure our luggage ends up on the train down to Savannah before we head to that tavern where we’re supposed to meet Doctor Hardin.”

Joe grabbed his father’s arm to redirect his gaze.  “Pa – I took care of all that.  The first day we boarded the Atlantic I talked with Mister Hampton, Clay’s former boss.  I told you, don’t you remember?  He’s arranged for our bags to get moved over to the late train down to Macon and from there on to Savannah.  We’re all set.”

Ben grinned and nodded over to his twenty-one-year-old son.  He had forgotten that Joe had acquainted himself with the railroad executive who had known Clay.  The man had been of great assistance to them both ever since the first day they had boarded the train.

“Sorry – I guess I’d forgotten what a world traveler my son was!” He quipped.  “Now – where can we hail a carriage?”

Staring back and forth between both ends of the Union Depot, Joe tried to remember the way that Clay had taken him the previous year.  Finally spotting the exit he and Clay had taken; Joe quickly grabbed his father’s arm to direct him.

“This way, Pa,” He insisted, keeping a firm hold of his father’s arm as the two of them headed out to the busy street just in front of the train station.  Little Joe waved to one of the passing carriages, and it pulled over and waited.

“Can you take us to the Striker’s Tavern on Peachtree Street?” Joe asked as he and his father climbed into the back of the carriage.

“I’ll get you there,” the driver nodded and clapped the reins held in his gloved hands.  Soon they were in a long line of carriages out on the crowded street and were heading north.

---

Doctor James Hardin had kept apprised of the Cartwrights’ travels and the wire that Joe had sent the previous night had determined the time that he would arrive at the tavern to meet them.  He sat at a table inside the bar and restaurant and waited for their arrival.

“Doc!” Joe called across the room when he spotted the man.  He smiled broadly and held out his hand as both he and his father drew closer.

“Joseph – so good to see you again,” James stood as he greeted his former patient.  He then turned his attention to the older man.  “And of course you are Ben,” he smiled warmly as he exchanged handshakes with both Cartwrights.

“So nice to finally meet you, Doctor,” Ben nodded and offered his own welcoming smile to the man who he credited with saving his son’s life.  “Joseph has told me so much about you that I feel like we’ve already met.”

“Your son described you well – and he also told me a lot about you and your family.  Please— have a seat,” James insisted and waited until they both were seated before joining them at the table.  Studying the young man’s complexion, he patted Joe’s arm and remarked, “We did have quite a time with that yellow fever, didn’t we, Joseph?”

Joe grinned, “You can say that again! “

“I can see that slight yellowish tinge to your skin has gone away.  Didn’t I tell you that it would?” He turned his attention to the silver-haired man across the table and winked his way.  “Your son was sure that he’d never get back to normal.”

Ben laughed and patted his son’s shoulder, “He had it rough for several months when he got home, but Joseph is now as normal as he ever was.”

Exchanging an amused glance with his father, Joe asked, “How have you been, Doc – and how’s the family?”

“Fine just fine,” James answered and waved for a waitress.  “Where are my manners?  Let me get you both something to drink before we sit back and chit chat.”

The young woman approached the table and looked back and forth at the three men.  “What will you have, Gentlemen?”

Joe shrugged his shoulders, deferring to the wisdom of his father.  Ben seemed a bit uncomfortable, not knowing the proper thing to order so early in the afternoon.

The physician grinned at the awkward silence that had fallen around the table.  “Three beers,” he ordered and the waitress nodded and walked off.

“Thank you,” Ben said and let out a relieved sigh, “I wasn’t quite sure whether it was appropriate due to the time of day.”

Chuckling, James addressed the man’s concerns, “Have no fear, most souls here in the South regularly imbibe in spirits of some sort regardless of the time of day.  As a doctor, I have no objection to a couple of beers.  I always say that it clears the blood.”

Joe nodded to his father with a quick grin on his face, showing him what it was like during the time he’d spent with the good doctor.  The man was always very easy-going and had a great sense of humor.

The waitress was quick to place three beer mugs in front of the three men and James offered a toast.

“Here’s to a successful trip,” He announced and they all lifted their mugs.

Ben and Joe sipped their beers and waited for the doctor to get to the heart of the matter.

“I’m aware that you two don’t have much time before your next train pulls out to take you to Savannah.  I’ll tell you what I know.  First, Clay’s attorney is a man named Milton Hardigree.  Here’s his address, Joseph,” James handed the boy a card.  “He’ll advise you about the Copeland Estate.”

Swept up in the memory of being inside the same tavern he’d gone to with his brother, Joe’s gaze tracked over to the table across the room.  He closed his eyes and could still see Clay sitting there the first afternoon they’d gone there after leaving the train depot.  The old familiar pain was back, and he reeled from the old haunting memories. He had been so thrilled to see his brother so happy that day as he showed off the locket with the picture of his soon-to-be bride inside.

James and Ben exchanged understanding glances.  It wasn’t hard to tell that Joe was still trapped inside the bitter-sweet memories of the time he had shared with his brother.

“Joseph?” Ben leaned in toward the boy.  “Did you hear what James said?”

Shaking himself out of the daze, Joe cast an uncomfortable glance over at the doctor and replied, “Sorry—what were you saying about the estate?”

“That card you’re holding has all the information as to where you’ll find your brother’s attorney.  He’s the best one to advise you on what to do with the Copeland Estate.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Joe stuffed the card inside his pocket and returned bitterly, “It’s just some land now – they burnt the house down around my brother.”

James reached over and set a calming hand on the boy’s arm and answered, “Joe — it’s more than just the land.”  He sipped his beer and then continued, “There’s a two-room caretaker’s cabin less than a mile from the old house.  And besides that, there’s also all the holdings that Mister Copeland amassed.  I’ve been told that Cope left a tidy sum which would’ve gone to Annabelle –,” James trailed off, not wanting to talk about the tragedy that had happened right after the wedding.

“I still don’t understand why any of that would go to me.  Didn’t Mister Copeland have any other relatives anywhere?” Joe asked, not wanting the responsibility of deciding what to do about the estate.

“No, Joseph,” James returned quietly.  “Everything would’ve gone to Clay after Annabelle’s death – and since you are Clay’s only living relative – well – it goes to you.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Ben jumped into the conversation after witnessing the appearance of pain spreading across his son’s face.  He knew that Joe’s wounds were still fresh and that he hadn’t gotten over the loss of his brother.

“Ben, here’s the address of a rather comfortable place for the two of you to stay in Savannah.  It’s where I always lodge when I’m down there,” He handed Ben a card with all the information that they would need.

“Thank you – this will help,” Ben nodded and tucked the card inside his vest pocket.

“Now – what about Rene?” Joe’s worry was back in the forefront of his mind.  He had thought about Rene’s plight during the whole trip east.

James signaled the waitress and she brought another round of beers and placed them in front of the three men.

“Might as well clear our blood enough for the afternoon,” James remarked with a wink as he hoisted his drink.  He knew Joe was worried and thought that another round of drinks might relax the young man.

“What happened to Rene?” Joe redirected the conversation back to his friend.

“Joseph – I don’t have all the facts—but I’ll tell you what I’ve heard.  There’s an inspector – by the name of Jacob Townsend and he’s been investigating the disappearance of a man named Ezra Davenport –”

Joe interrupted the doctor, “What’s that got to do with Rene?”

James shot a knowing look at Ben and returned, “Your boy has always had a short fuse, hasn’t he?”

Ben placed an arm over his son’s shoulder and nodded, “You grew to know this boy well, Doctor.  Joseph tends to run off half-cocked before listening to all the facts.”

“Go on,” Joe stated flatly, not amused by either man’s statements.

“The night that the plantation house caught fire –,” James was once again cut off.

“No, Doc – not caught fire – it was set on fire by the “good people” of Savannah!” Joe insisted sharply.  “If they hadn’t done that my brother would be alive and there wouldn’t be a need for me to handle an estate or try to help Rene!”

“Joseph,” Ben stated firmly, warning him with his stern gaze to settle down.

“Okay, — I’m sorry.  Go ahead, Doc,” Joe apologized and nervously shifted in his chair.

Drawing in a deep breath, James patted Joe’s arm, offering a calming tone to his voice as he continued.  “Joe, I know that the house was purposely set on fire.  And I share your anger over what happened.  But unfortunately, we can’t do anything about that.  Rene was charged with the disappearance of Ezra Davenport.  There were several eyewitnesses who pointed him out to the authorities saying that Rene was there that night.”

“I was there too, Doc – does that mean they’re gonna try and arrest me?” Joe asked, wondering what he was getting himself into once he arrived in Savannah.

“They might want to question you – but I doubt they’ll hold you on it.  You and I both know why they’re going after Rene.  It’s just because of the way he looks and the fact that he can’t speak for himself.  I’m quite sure the charges have been trumped up due to the situation.  Ezra Davenport was an important man, and I was told that his brother Charles has been instigating the whole thing.  He has ties with some of the local authorities due to his family’s importance in Savannah.”

“Did they take Rene into the jail and he escaped?” Ben re-entered the conversation trying to piece it all together in his mind.

James sighed and shook his head, “No, Ben – they never got him into a jailcell.  The minute they had him cornered Rene fought off three officers and escaped.  That was quite a few months ago.  But now a reward has been issued for his capture.  So, if anyone lays eyes on him, I’m afraid that they’ll try to kill Rene just for the money and he’ll never make it to trial.”

“I was with him that whole night – I’ll swear to it in court!” Joe fumed, his temper flaring over the persecution he’d already gone through down in Savannah.

“Joe – I don’t know how much help that’ll be.  You were very sick with the fever and a bit out of your head at the time.  If they interrogate you too thoroughly, they might insist that there wasn’t any way you could vouch for Rene during the times you were lying sick somewhere.  By now they probably know that you were on the run with Rene for quite some time.”

“I’ll lie if it means saving that man – he risked his life to help me!” Joe swore angrily.

“Joseph,” Ben had to try to quell his son’s mounting outrage over what had happened to him.  “You won’t have to lie – just tell the truth – that should be enough.”

“I wired you because I hoped that you’d be able to find Rene, Joseph,” James continued.  “I’d be willing to pay for any counsel he needs.  Clay was my friend – and I know how much he cared for Rene.”

Ben popped the lid to his pocket watch and frowned, “Unfortunately our train’s going to leave soon.  I guess all we can do is just try our best to locate Rene and see what we can do for him.  Joseph and I will keep in touch with you, Doctor, and we’ll let you know what’s going on down there.”

James stood from the table, and after witnessing Ben going for his billfold, set a hand on his shoulder.  “No – this one’s on me, Ben.  Now you and Joe take care of yourselves.  I’ll do whatever I can from up here.  I know some of the authorities in Savannah as well.  If you need me just send word and I’ll catch the next train.”

Joe stood along with his father and exchanged handshakes with James.  “Thanks for letting me know about all of this, Doc.  I think I can find Rene – and hopefully clear his name so he won’t have to worry about someone trying to kill him like they did Clay.”

“You both have a safe trip,” James clapped the young man on the back fondly and nodded over to Ben.

“Thank you for all your help.  And I want to thank you for taking care of my son during his bout with yellow fever.  I’ll forever be in your debt for making sure that he found his way home,” Ben smiled warmly over at the doctor.

“My pleasure.  Good luck – and you both stay safe,” James smiled and then watched as both Ben and Joe turned out of the tavern.  He prayed for their safety as he sat back down at the table.

---

Ben stared over at his son who sat leaning against the window inside the coach of the final train that would take them to their destination.  They had changed trains in Macon and Ben had been told that they would be arriving in Savannah around ten o’clock that night.  He noticed how Joe seemed to be lost inside his thoughts again, as he had been on most of the journey.  Though the glow of the coach’s lanterns wasn’t very bright, Ben could still read the pensive look on his son’s face.  He wondered what Joe was thinking about.  There were so many terrible memories from the boy’s trip the previous year and Ben wondered if his son was caught inside one of them.

“Joseph?” Ben called quietly, leaning over to try and get his son’s attention.

Shaking himself from his internal musings, Joe turned to stare into his father’s eyes.  “Yeah, Pa?”

“Are you alright?  You looked a bit lost in whatever you were thinking about,” Ben responded, and draped an arm across the boy’s shoulder hoping that it might help.

“It’s this place, Pa,” Joe paused and dropped his head a bit.  “We’re close to where I left that horse that gave out on me when I was trying to get to Doc’s place in Atlanta.  I don’t have any good memories of that trip – except for my time with Clay before everyone got sick.  The rest of it is just one big nightmare, Pa.”

“I know Joseph – and I’m sorry that — due to the circumstances– we’re heading right back to where it all happened,” Ben tried to think of something that might help ease the boy’s mind but was having a very tough time coming up with anything positive to say.

“I know, Pa,” Joe nodded and then drew in a deep breath.  “I know you’ve heard about everything that happened to me last summer.  You don’t have to say anything.  I’m just glad that you’re with me this time.”

Pulling his son close, Ben whispered, “So am I, Son.”

---

The train had arrived on time and just a little past ten that night both Ben and Joe had retrieved their luggage and hailed a carriage to take them to the very posh Pulaski House.  The soft glow from the corner lamp posts lit the way as they passed by the various squares that divided the downtown area.  The unusual rhapsody made by the sound of horse’s hooves hitting against the cobblestone streets lulled Little Joe back inside his memories again.  He couldn’t help recalling the day that his brother introduced him to Rene. The giant of a man had simply popped up from a tunnel entrance in Chippewa Square.  It had just about scared the daylights out of Little Joe to see Rene coming up out of the ground like an oversized gopher.  Shaking himself from his thoughts, Joe became aware of the carriage driver’s call that they had reached their destination.

The carriage pulled up right in front of the lavish hotel and a porter hurried out to assist the two men with their bags.  While Pa paid the driver, Joe grabbed the carpet bag he’d bought in Carson City, intent on maintaining possession of it due to the contents.  They followed the porter to the front desk and a tall, formally dressed man greeted them.

“Good evening, gentlemen, and welcome to the Pulaski House.  Have you reservations with us or are you seeking lodging for the night?”

Ben leaned forward and nodded to the man.  “I’m Ben Cartwright – and this is my son Joseph.  We haven’t made reservations – we’ve just arrived here in Savannah after a very long trip from out west.  I’m not sure how long we’ll need a room – but at least for a few days.”

“Very good, Sir,” The man replied and turned the registry book to face his patron.  “My name is Eustace Somersby.  If I could just have your signature here, I’ll see to your accommodations.”

Ben dipped the pen in the inkwell and with a quick flick of his wrist signed the registry.  “Do you have a two-room suite available, Mister Somersby?”

“Certainly,” He nodded and then smiled at the silver- haired man.  “And you can just call me Eustace.”

Joe scanned the parlor taking notice of the opulent furniture and the expensive decor.  It sure wasn’t Virginia City, he thought.  Though Joe had stayed at the Copeland Estate on his last trip, the Pulaski House topped the furnishings that had been there.  And that was saying something because Annabelle’s father, Beauregard Copeland prided himself on his impeccable good taste.

“Here you are,” Eustace said and offered Ben a room key.  “Second floor – the porter will show you the way and bring your bags.  Enjoy your stay here at the Pulaski House and in our fair city.”

“Thank you very much,” Ben smiled warmly at the desk clerk and then turned to see the teenaged porter standing there in front of him waiting.

“Sirs,” the young man called, “If you’d please follow me?”

“Thank you,” Ben replied and patted Joe’s shoulder to shake him from his thoughts.   “Let’s go, Son.”

Little Joe watched the young black porter, his arms laden down with the four bags.  “Hey, I’ll help you with that!” he offered.

Ben shook his head as he cast an uneasy glance over his shoulder to the desk clerk who was frowning.

“No, Sir – I’ve got it,” the porter insisted, walking in front of the two men.

Joe exchanged an uneasy glance with his father, wondering why he was looking at him so strangely.  They were led to their suite and the porter brought in the luggage.

“If there’s anything you need – anything at all – you’ve only got to ask,” the young man offered after setting the bags in the parlor to the suite.

“Thank you, Young Man,” Ben smiled and reached inside the pocket of his vest.  He pulled out a silver dollar and handed it to the porter.

“This is too much, Sir – I can’t take it.”

“Take it,” Ben insisted and closed the boy’s hand around it.  “We’ll let you know if there’s anything we need.”

“Thank you, Sir,” He smiled gratefully and turned out of the room.

Ben stared at his son noticing the confused look he wore.  “Joseph?  What’s wrong?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Joe sighed.  “Did you see the way that desk clerk looked when I offered to help the kid with our luggage?  He looked like I’d cursed or something!  What would it have hurt for me to help the boy with our bags, Pa?”

Clearing his throat, Ben moved closer to his son and dropped his hand down onto his shoulder.  “Joseph, you’ve got to remember that this is the Deep South.  You know the trouble that’s been brewing these last couple of years.  I don’t think it’s going to be too much longer before the talk of succession becomes a reality.”

“I still don’t understand, Pa.  So, you’re not supposed to help someone just because they’ve got a different skin color than you?”

“Joseph – you wouldn’t have wanted to make it harder on that boy, would you?”

“No, Sir – but I still don’t understand.”

Ben offered his son a patient smile and replied, “I don’t either, Joseph – but you would’ve made it rough on that boy if you’d have insisted on helping him with our bags.”

Joe frowned and nodded.  “Just another reason why I hate the South and their old worn-out prejudices.”

“I know, Son,” He sighed.  “But right now we have other matters to attend to.  We can’t solve the nation’s problems – at least not right now.  Are you hungry?”

“No, Pa – those sandwiches we had on the train filled me up.  But I’ll go with you if you want something to eat?” Joe returned, knowing that his father had been right.  There were enough problems to tend to with handling the Copeland Estate and trying to find Rene.

“I’m fine until breakfast,” he nodded and reached for two of the bags.  “Well, you take that room over there,” Ben pointed to the right.  “And I’ll take this one,” he pointed in the opposite direction.

“Yes, Sir,” Joe nodded and grabbed the two bags on the floor along with the one he had carried inside the room himself.

A knock sounded on the door and both men exchanged surprised glances.  Joe walked across the room and answered it.

“Here you are, Sir,” the same porter stood there with a tray.  “I’ve brought you up some coffee from the kitchen and a few pastries in case you were hungry,” he announced and walked inside the room.  He set the tray down on the table in front of the sofa.  “Will there be anything else, Sir?” He asked, staring over at Ben.

“No,” Ben returned smiling.  “Thank you once again, Young Man.”

“No thanks needed, Sir.”

“What’s your name?” Joe asked, nearing the boy.

The porter looked at Joe confused over what he had asked.  “I answer to Boy around here.”

“You’ve got to have a name,” Joe persisted.  “So, what is it?”

“William, Sir.”

Grinning at the teenager, Joe reached inside his pants pocket and pulled out a silver dollar.  “Okay, William, this is for you – for bringing all of this up for us.”

“It’s not needed, Sir — I don’t expect money every time I help you.”

“Just the same, William, I want you to have it.  Now go ahead and take it.”

“Thank you, Sir,” the boy nodded gratefully and tucked the money inside his shirt pocket.  “I wish you two gentleman a good night,” he said and then hurried back out into the hall closing the door behind him.

Ben nodded over at his son, knowing why he’d done what he had.  Clearing his throat he said, “Well, you’ve got to admit the service here is good.  Now drop those bags of yours and let’s have some coffee before cleaning up a bit.”

Joe attempted to pull himself out of his earlier indignant mood over the way the staff was being treated.  It was his and Pa’s first night together in Savannah and he just wanted to forget about everything else for a while.

“I could get spoiled with all of this, Pa,” He grinned.  Setting his bags back down he joined his father on the sofa.

“Don’t tell Hop Sing that you want room service,” Ben chuckled and poured the coffee.

---

Ben finished his coffee and withdrew to his room to wash off and put away his clothes.  He had only been inside his room for a couple of minutes when he heard his son whistling through his teeth in the next room.  Ben chuckled, knowing why the boy had done it.  He walked across the parlor and peered in on his son.

Little Joe turned upon hearing his father’s approach.  He grinned over at him and said, “As Mister Copeland would say, “we’re walking in tall cotton now!” Joe laughed.  “Would you just look at this bed, Pa?  Have you ever seen such a thing before?  It’s gigantic! And just look at the dresser – and that full length mirror!”

Arms folded across his chest and with amusement painting his face, Ben thought to himself *** Joseph – I need to take you out to the big city a bit more often! ***

“Yes, Son – I have the same in my own room,” he smiled knowingly at the boy.

“Makes me want to fix up my room back at the ranch,” Joe winked.  “I think I need a little more refinement.”

“Goodnight, Joseph,” Ben laughed and slowly closed the bedroom door.

---

The following morning after having eaten the breakfast which the staff had brought up to their room, Ben and Joe readied themselves to locate Clay’s attorney about the Copeland Estate.

“Hey, Pa?” Joe called across the suite.

“Yes?” Ben entered his son’s bedroom and stared at the carpet bag which sat on top of the bed.

“Do you think we could do a little shopping after we meet with that attorney?” Joe asked as he tucked his shirt inside his pants.

“Shopping?  Joseph, we’ve packed enough for a year – what do you need now?” he asked exasperated.

Shrugging his shoulders and trying to look innocent, Joe returned, “Oh – just thought I could use a topcoat of some kind.”

“A topcoat?  Hop Sing packed your blue suit – I think that’s about as formal as you’re going to need around here.”

Shaking his head, Joe offered his father a sly grin.  “It doesn’t need to be formal, Pa – just something to put over my clothes.  Oh – and it wouldn’t be a bad idea if you bought one for you too.”

Ben groaned and sat down on the bottom of his son’s bed.  He eyed the carpet bag that he’d wondered about for the past three weeks.  “I’m not spending one red cent until you tell me what’s inside of that,” He pointed over to the bag.

“Oh – it’s just a little insurance that I bought in Carson City, Pa.”

“Insurance?  What kind of insurance?”

“Okay– – I guess it’s time I showed you,” Joe nodded and plopped down on the bed next to the bag.  “Pa – have you seen the brand new eighteen sixty-one Savage?”

Holding a hand up to his mouth and staring back and forth between his son and the bag sitting on the bed, Ben finally understood why Joe had held onto his little “surprise” the whole trip.

“The gun?” Ben asked, confusion on his face.

“No, Pa – not “the” gun – these “guns”,” he quipped and opened the carpet bag.  He carefully pulled out the two weapons.  “Aren’t they something?”

Ben reached for one of the two guns, taking it into his hand and examining it thoroughly.  “I’ve only seen pictures of these – they just came out earlier this year.  How did you get your hands on them?”

Joe hefted one of the two guns in his hand and grinned.  “Thomas Webber in Carson City had them in his shop.  You know that gunsmith gets his hands on every new kind of pistol just as soon as it’s made!  I emptied out my bank account just to get these for us.  It cost me my entire life savings too.”

“We packed our Colts – so why do we need these, Joseph?”

“Oh, c’mon, Pa!  It’s what all the folks in the Deep South are now carrying underneath their fancy coats.  I wasn’t about to be holding a little derringer and have somebody sneak up on me packing this kind of fire power!  I needed something with some range, you know?  This gun will drop a man from across the street if need be.  And it’s a heck of a lot faster to get a slug into them!”

“But the Colts—why not just use them?  I don’t follow?” Ben continued, raising his eyebrows.  His son’s eagerness to shoot somebody was beginning to alarm him.

“We just can’t walk around the streets of Savannah wearing our holsters, Pa.  Trust me, it’s just not done around here.  But with the right kind of a coat these will blend right in,” Joe explained enthusiastically.

Shaking his head, still not convinced, Ben returned, “Son, these are heavy pieces made for the military.  Why on earth did you buy them?  I think our Colts would’ve been fine.”

“But Pa – just look at the action of that thing!” he exclaimed exuberantly.

Ben reluctantly slipped his right middle finger into the lower loop of the figure-eight guard and his index finger onto the top trigger.

“Pa – pull the bottom lever back – it’s okay it’s not loaded yet,” Joe urged, the excitement over the new weapon easily detected in his voice.

Pulling back the bottom lower loop Ben heard the click clack sound as the hammer cocked itself back and locked the cylinder.

“Now you’re ready to fire.  Your thumb never has to leave the grip to cock the hammer.  You never know who might come after us here, Pa, and you sure don’t want to be fumbling around to cock a gun.  All you’ll have to do is just squeeze the bottom, pull the top and it’ll keep working no matter how many rounds you fire.”

“Joseph,” Ben sighed and shook his head.  He did appreciate a good firearm but still didn’t think what he was holding in his hand was worth getting excited about.  “It’s as heavy as an anvil!”

“But that’s the beauty of it, Pa!  The cylinder actually moves forward and seals right against the barrel before it fires.  It stops the hot gas and black powder grease from spraying out the sides.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that – it would save your hand from getting burned in a tight scuffle,” Ben nodded.

“Yes, Sir – and if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my last stay here in Savannah- – -you just never know when someone’s gonna come after you.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve thought about what kind of ammunition we’ll need?”

Joe grinned and reached down to the bottom of the carpet bag pulling up the cigar box he’d carried for over two thousand miles.  “I thought about that – and Mister Webber supplied me with a good amount of these, so we won’t have to try to buy or make them ourselves,” Joe explained as he opened the box and the oiled pouch inside.  He held some of the ammunition in his hand.  “It takes ought thirty- six caliber round lead balls, and I’ve got plenty in here.  Pa – I got us everything we need for these two guns – well –everything but a topcoat.”

“Your entire life savings, huh?” Ben grinned knowingly at the boy.  “And just how much was that, Son?”

“Between the two guns and the ammunition – I guess about fifty dollars.  But it’ll be worth it if it keeps the two of us alive, Pa,” he insisted.

Examining his son’s face, Ben carefully weighed what he was going to say next.  It was easy to see that Joe was determined to use the weapon he had purchased and there wouldn’t be any talking him out of it.  Besides that, was the fear his son still carried inside of him due to what had happened to his brother.  Losing Clay in front of his very eyes had changed his son and had made him extremely wary to be back in Georgia again.  Ben decided for Joe’s sake that he would go along with his choice of weapons.

Wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze, Ben smiled and said, “Alright, Joseph – we’ll play it your way this time.  But I want you to be careful!  If you were to fall into the Savannah River carrying that gun in your coat you’d sink right down to the bottom like an anchor.”

Joe grinned and nodded over at his father, glad that he hadn’t objected to the weapons he had chosen.

“So?  Do we get the topcoats?”

“Yes, Joseph,” Ben sighed and set the gun back inside the carpet bag.  “I hope buying two topcoats in this town won’t cost me my entire life savings,” He groaned. “Now stow these somewhere safe until we get back.”

Joe placed his gun inside the bag next to his father’s and closed it up.  He hid it from view, placing the bag underneath the bed and pulling the dust ruffle down to conceal it from prying eyes.

“Let’s go,” Ben announced as he stood from the bed and made his way out into the parlor with his son following right behind.

---

Walking through the lobby on their way out to find Clay’s attorney, Ben and Joe stopped when they heard the voice calling to them.

“Mister Cartwright – if I might have a word?” The desk clerk asked, trying to stop the two men before they left the hotel.

Ben and Joe approached the front desk wondering what the man wanted.

“Yes? What is it, Mister Somersby?” Ben returned.

“This message was left with me a little while ago.  It’s for your son,” He explained and handed his guest the piece of paper and Ben turned around, relinquishing it to Joe.

Studying the note, Joe shook his head and sighed.  “News travels fast around here,” He whispered to his father who shot him a questioning gaze.  “It’s from Inspector Townsend – the man Doc said was investigating that disappearance.  He wants to meet with me later tonight, Pa.”

Ben took the message from his son’s hand and read it quickly.  He frowned at the persistence of the inspector.  “I guess we’ll deal with this later.  Let’s go, Son.”

“Thank you,” Joe nodded to the desk clerk and then followed his father out through the door and down to the street.

---

It was the first time Ben Cartwright had gotten a good look at Savannah in the daylight since they had arrived in the dark the previous night.  He stared at the live oak trees and the beautiful pink azalea bushes which were in full bloom.  Ben hadn’t wanted to mention to his son that he thought that the city was stunningly beautiful because he knew that Joseph had quite the opposite opinion of the place.  He knew that when Joe looked at the various squares interspersed between the brick and clapboard houses lining the roads along with their well-manicured lawns, his thoughts were only filled with sadness due to the loss of his brother.  Ben knew that his son would never be able to appreciate the beauty of the city of Savannah, not with the painful memories which still haunted him.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Ben asked as he watched his son looking both ways as they stepped across the street and over to a grassy area.

“Chippewa Square,” Joe muttered, his attention focused on the far end of the small plot of land.  He half expected to see Rene’s head popping up from the tunnel below the square as he had the first time they’d met.  “We take the road over there – Pa – it’s Bull Street – and it should take us straight down to the courthouse and the attorney’s office.”

Nodding his head, Ben replied, “Lead on, Son – I’ll follow.”

It took ten minutes of walking in between the numerous carriages and people who milled about the city before both men were standing in front of a row of offices that lined Bay Street.

“Guess we’re here,” Joe announced as he spotted the sign on the door to attorney Milton Hardigree’s office.  They pushed their way inside and noticed a young law clerk sitting behind a desk.

“Can I help you?” he asked approaching the two men.

Joe cast a quick glance over at his father and saw him nodding his way.  “We’re here to see Mister Hardigree.  He was my brother Clay Stafford’s attorney.”

As if on cue, a well-dressed middle-aged man walked down the hall just to the left of the reception area.  He sent a welcoming smile in the direction of the two visitors.

“You must be Joseph Cartwright,” he announced reaching out his hand.  “Attorney Milton Hardigree at your service.”

“Yes, Sir, I’m Joseph Cartwright,” Joe answered and returned the gesture before making the introductions.  “Mister Hardigree, this is my father, Ben Cartwright.”

Ben and the attorney exchanged handshakes and the man replied, “I was told by Doctor Hardin that you’d both be coming to Savannah.  Please – come into my office.”

Following the attorney down the hallway, they turned into a rather formal looking room.  Bookshelves filled with law books and artwork lined the four walls.

“Please have a seat, gentlemen,” Milton directed them to the two chairs in front of his desk as he took a seat behind it.   “I noticed the resemblance you bear to Clay, and, Joseph, I’d like to offer you my deepest condolences on your loss.  I was most grieved to learn about your brother’s death.  Clay was both my client and a friend ever since he first came to our city with the desire to begin a new life here with Annabelle.”

“Thank you, Sir.  I don’t recall seeing you at his wedding,” Joe remarked, wondering just how well the man had actually known his brother.

“Yes, I was sorry to have missed it – but it was unavoidable at the time.  Last July I was in Virginia to settle my late father’s estate.”

Joe shifted a bit nervously in his chair.  He realized that lately he was wary of everyone in Savannah due to what had transpired the previous year.  “Sorry for your loss,” He nodded to the man.

“Thank you.  Now – how long do you both plan to be in Savannah?”

“Not long,” Ben entered the conversation.  “We were sent word by Doctor Hardin that the Copeland Estate needed to be settled and that there were a few other issues which required our attention.”

Leaning back in his chair, Milton carefully examined the faces there before him.  “Clay’s friend Rene of course – would that be one of those issues, Mister Cartwright?”

Ben nodded, “Yes – have you any information regarding his whereabouts?”

“No – nothing other than what I’ve already told James.  He’s still out there somewhere I suppose but it’s anyone’s guess as to where.”

“Did you know Rene?” Joe questioned, still ill at ease.

“No – well – I have seen him around – but we’ve never met.  I knew that Clay was very fond of the big man,” Milton explained.

“Do you know Charles Davenport?” Joe continued questioning the attorney.

Drawing in a deep breath the attorney frowned.  “Yes, I’m afraid he’s quite the troublemaker.  His brother’s disappearance has been shaking up the whole city of Savannah.  Well, the family is from old money as we say here — and they have some political pull.”

Joe leaned forward, resting his elbows on the other man’s desktop.  “I don’t know how much you’ve been told about what happened to Clay.  But after that fire Rene took care of me.  In fact, I owe him my life.  I’d come down with yellow fever just like Clay and Annabelle – along with Mister Copeland.  The night that the “good people” of this city set fire to the plantation house Clay must’ve told Rene to take care of me before he–,” Joe paused, not wanting to go much further into his brother’s death than he already had.

“A frightened town – and an angry mob of people – Joseph – it’s a bad combination,” Milton tried to explain, noting the anger well displayed on the young man’s face.

“I find it a little bit ironic that people are more worried about the disappearance of one man than they are in investigating a case of pure murder!” Joe insisted loudly.

Ben placed a hand on his son’s arm and tried to calm him.  “Joseph – settle down now.”

Coughing to clear his throat while attempting to control the rage spreading across Joe’s face, Milton added, “Here in the Deep South just the very words “yellow fever” instills fear in the heart of any town.  It’s a terrible thing.  I’m so sorry that you were embroiled in all that, Joseph.  And I share in your outrage over what happened to Clay and Annabelle -along with Mister Copeland.  I’ve made my own inquiries about what happened that night, but I don’t have the kind of clout that the Davenport family have in Savannah.  Now – if we might get back to the reason that you’ve come?”

“Go ahead,” Joe sighed and leaned back in his chair.  “What do I have to do with the estate?”

“By default, you are the only legal inheritor of all of the profits from any sale of the Copeland plantation as well as the sole beneficiary to all Mister Copeland’s assets.”

“You’ve checked to make sure there aren’t any distant relatives of Mister Copeland who might have a claim to any of that?” Ben asked, hoping that he could keep his son away from the responsibility involved with handling the property and the large inheritance.

“A thorough search was done which was why it took me this long before contacting James.  I had been told that he knew how to reach you, Joseph.  Clay told me he had a brother in Nevada, but I never knew any of the particulars about you.  Now, I can have the disposition of the estate and monies ready within three days.  Have you considered what you want to do about the plantation, Joseph?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Joe shot a quick glance at his father and then back to the attorney.  “No – I don’t really care much about it.  It’s just a lot of bad memories for me now.  They burnt down the house – and everything that mattered to me along with it.”

“Well, I can surely understand that.  Would you like me to try to find you a buyer?  It might take a little while, but I’m sure I could locate someone who would be interested in it.”

“Fine by me,” Joe nodded.  “I just wanted to get all this settled and then help Rene before someone tries to kill him too.”

“Where are you men staying?”

“We’re at the Pulaski House,” Ben answered.

“You do know that there’s a caretaker’s cabin on the Copeland plantation, right?”

Joe nodded, “Doc told us about it – why?”

Milton smiled knowingly and said, “Because if you’re trying to find Rene then perhaps it would be a bit easier to evade prying eyes if you weren’t parading around downtown Savannah while doing it?  I’m sure that Inspector Townsend has already been told that you’re here.”

“As a matter of fact,” Joe paused and shot his father another quick glance.  Ben nodded to him that it was safe to produce the note he’d received earlier.  Reaching inside his shirt he removed the message he’d gotten from the desk clerk.  He handed it to Milton who read it and looked over at both men.

“I should’ve known,” He replied, shaking his head and frowning.  “Are you going to meet him tonight?”

“We’d planned on it,” Joe nodded and cast another quick glance over to his father.

“Do you have any reservations about us doing that?” Ben queried, trying to read the other man’s facial expression.

“Well, I’m not a criminal lawyer, Mister Cartwright – but I suppose if I were one I’d advise you to be very careful with the responses that you give the inspector.”

“I will.  I’m sure he only wants to question me about my relationship with Rene and I don’t trust anyone in this city asking me about what happened the night that Clay –” Joe paused, it still hurt too much to admit that his brother was dead not to mention the details of how it had happened.

“Do you know where this gentleman’s club is?” Ben asked as the man handed the note back to his son.

“Yes, that address is a building in Wright Square not far from where you’re staying.  Are you familiar with that area, Joseph?”

Joe nodded and returned, “Yes, Clay took me to that square last summer.  I think I can find it without too much trouble.”

“Shuffling through some papers on his desk, Milton replied, “As I’ve said – just be careful with what you plan to share with the inspector.  You won’t be under oath, but I’d try and be as truthful as you can be.  That doesn’t mean that you must reveal to him anything that you’d prefer to keep close to your vest for now.”

“That caretaker’s cabin – would it suit our needs?” Ben asked, wondering if it might prove to be prudent to move away from prying eyes as the attorney had suggested.

“I believe it would,” Milton smiled.  “I checked on the plantation and that cabin not long ago.  It’s in good shape.  There’s a couple of bunks, linens and the like inside the place so you wouldn’t need much more other than some food.  It would be a good place to settle in while you’re in the area.  There’s a good well and a hand pump right next to the cabin.  There’s also a small two stall barn.”.”

“I’d never met a caretaker while I was staying with the Copelands.”

“Old Cope sent him packing a week or so before the wedding, Joseph.  He caught him stealing.  I guess he didn’t have time to hire a new one due to all that happened,” Milton explained.

Nodding, Joe asked, “And what about a way to get around while we’re here?”

“There’s a livery stable two blocks down from the Pulaski House.  You’ll probably see it on your way back from here.  You men can rent saddle horses or a carriage – whatever suits your needs.  And there’s a general store just a mile from the Copeland estate.  You’ll pass it on the way down there.  It’s the best place to get food and any supplies you’ll need if you plan to hold up there while you try to locate Rene.”

Ben stood in preparation to leave and Joe followed his lead.  “Of course, everything we’ve just told you would be considered attorney client privilege, right?”

Milton stood and walked around his desk.  “Yes, Sir.  Joseph, I’ll put all the paperwork in order – that is if you’re now my client?” he asked smiling at the young man.

Joe shook the attorney’s hand and nodded his way.  “You’re hired – if Clay put a lot of stock in you than so do I.”

“Why don’t you come back here – let’s say Thursday?  That’ll give me the chance to get everything lined up for you and see what I can do about finding a potential buyer for the plantation?”

“That’ll be fine,” Joe agreed as he and his father turned for the hall.

“Thank you for all your help, Mister Hardigree,” Ben offered his own handshake and a quick smile.

“My pleasure, Sir,” He returned and escorted them both to the reception area.

“One last thing,” Joe said pausing at the door.  “Where’s the best place to buy a couple of topcoats?”

Ben rolled his eyes at his son’s persistence.  He might have known that Joseph wasn’t about to give up on his pursuit in trying to hide the weapons he’d brought with him.

“There’s a tailor down on River Street – just go left as you leave here and head to the river – you can’t miss the place.  The sign will read “Davis and Johnson” – it’ll be right above the door.”

“Thank you,” Joe smiled.  “We’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Goodbye for now, Gentlemen,” Milton smiled as the two men exited the office.

---

“Now, Joseph,” Ben began as they stepped out of the carriage and he handed the driver the fare.  He stared at his son as he reached up to adjust the boy’s string tie.  “This is not Virginia City – and the man you’re going to meet isn’t Sheriff Coffee.  I want you to control that temper of yours.  Inspector Townsend will be watching how you conduct yourself when he’s asking you about your last trip here,” Ben cautioned, never exactly sure what to expect from his youngest, especially where his temper was concerned.

Ignoring his father’s warning, Joe smiled at him.  “Hey aren’t these topcoats great?  You can barely feel those Savages we’re carrying what with those leather pouches that are sewn inside of them!”

“Joseph?  Are you listening to your father?” Ben continued, getting a bit exasperated with his son.

“Sure, Pa – I always listen to my father,” He winked.

Groaning, Ben shook his head and replied, “Well, that’s the first lie of the night.  I hope you’ll do better with the inspector.”

“Come here a minute, Pa,” Joe insisted and grabbed his father’s arm leading him to the far end of Wright Square.  “Look there!” He pointed at one of the live oak trees that lined all four sides of the square.

“A tree—very nice.  Now getting back to what I was saying –” Ben started but was cut off in midsentence.

“No—not just the tree, Pa – look at the Spanish moss on all those oaks.  See it?”

“See what?” Ben complained, trying to get his son to focus on the issue at hand and not on the live oaks that surrounded them.

“There’s no Spanish moss on this tree – but plenty of it on all those other oaks all around this square!” Joe explained, trying to get his point across.

Ben stepped back and stared around the square finally witnessing what his son had been referring to.  He had no idea where Joe was going with his oddly timed tale, but he presumed that the boy would soon tell him.  “Yes, I see.  And you’re telling me this now, why?”

“Clay brought me here late one night, Pa.  Don’t you remember me telling you that he tried to spook me by spouting a bunch of ghost stories about Savannah?  Well, one of them was about this square.  It’s the place where they hung the first woman in Georgia back in the seventeen hundreds.”

“And?”

“And –” Joe paused and pointed to the tree that didn’t have any Spanish moss on it.  “That tree was where she was hung.  They say she cursed this whole square and that’s why it grows on every single tree except where they strung her up.”

Ben placed an arm around his son’s shoulder and looked at him strangely.  “Son, you are aware of the precarious nature of your upcoming interview with that inspector, aren’t you?”

“I know, Pa – I just wanted to remember,” Joe responded quietly looking down at the grass.  “I was just thinking about Clay – and how he’d told me that story.”

Sighing, Ben finally understood why it had been so important for Joe to tell him the story of the square as a way of keeping the memory of his brother alive.  “It was an interesting story, Joseph, and you told it very well.  Clay would be proud of you for remembering how it went.  Thank you for sharing it with me,” He offered the boy a smile along with a pat to his shoulder.

“Okay, Pa,” Joe nodded to his father.  Reluctantly he set aside one of the few precious memories he had of his time with Clay the previous summer, knowing that it was time to deal with the present.  “I’ll do my best to keep it together in there.”

“I know you will,” Ben responded, trying to offer a note of confidence in his tone of voice.  He turned with Joe at his side and they walked up the steps of the building.

---

Ben and Joe came out of their topcoats as they made their way inside the club.  Though they had been approached by the head waiter to allow the staff to hang the coats up in the cloakroom, they declined the offer and simply carried them to a table and placed them on the backs of their chairs.

Looking around a bit apprehensively, Joe directed his attention to his father.  “What now?”

Ben cast a wary gaze over to the same door they had just come in and replied in a whisper.  “I guess we’ll just sit here until Inspector Townshend makes his presence known.  Relax, Son.”

“What will you have, Gentlemen?” A waiter asked with a smile as he neared their table.

Little Joe once again deferred to his father, not knowing if there would be beer in the place since everyone was dressed in very formal attire.  He and Pa were decked out in their finest blue suits and they blended right in with the other patrons inside the club.

“We’d both like a glass of Bordeaux Claret, thank you,” Ben nodded to the man and watched as he turned to get their drinks.

“Sounds fancy to me – and probably expensive too, Pa – but I’d sooner have rotgut,” Joe muttered as he spotted a man coming in the door and looking around the room.  “I bet you that’s him, Pa,” He whispered, leaning over to his father.  “He just looks the type.”

Ben drew in a deep breath and nodded, “That Bordeaux is expensive, Joseph, so don’t order another glass.  You already made me spend a small fortune on these topcoats today.”  He announced and then paused, sizing up the man heading their way.  “Right now, I’d prefer some rotgut too, Son, – but the man you pointed out is staring directly at us.  I think you’re right – it’s him.”

A short thin man with a bushy mustache that was far too big for his face, made his way across the room stopping there next to both men.  He produced a card, placing it on the table right in front of Joe.

“Inspector Jacob Townsend,” He announced and studied the two faces in front of him.  “Are you Joseph Cartwright?”

Taking a quick breath, Joe nodded as he stood.  “That’s me alright — and this is my father, Ben Cartwright.”

“Might I share your table?” He asked politely, surreptitiously glancing at the coats that both men had hanging on the backs of their chairs.

“Go ahead,” Joe replied flatly as he retook his seat.  He presumed that there wasn’t a chance in hell that the man was going to simply walk away if he’d said differently.

“Thank you,” Inspector Townsend nodded and placed his drink on the table.  “I understand you men just arrived in our fair city yesterday, is that right?”

“You know it is,” Joe returned, unamused by the other man’s false pretenses.  He presumed that the inspector had seen their arrival the night before and had been watching their every move all day.

Shooting his son a cautionary gaze, Ben turned when the waiter placed the two wine glasses in front of them.

“Well, Joseph, here’s to an interesting trip,” Ben announced with a grin and raised his glass in a toast.

Amused by his father’s gesture, Joe touched glasses with him and then looked back at the inspector.  “I got your message and here I am.  Now what’s this about?”

“You’ve inherited a very nice estate I’m told,” He began.

“What about it?  Is that a crime?” Joe quipped as he sipped his wine.

“Of course, not – I just thought it worth mentioning,” Inspector Townsend replied as he nonchalantly rolled his drink around in his glass.

Ben cleared his throat and said, “We’ve come to settle the Copeland Estate.  Is there something you want to ask my son?  Unfortunately, we’re a bit pressed for time so if you wouldn’t mind getting to the point?”

Townsend studied the two men and the topcoats sitting behind them.  “You two a bit chilly?”

“No, why?” Joe asked warily.

“Our customs are quite different than they are in the wilderness of Nevada.  Gentlemen usually check their coats as they enter a restaurant.  I noticed that you both have your topcoats resting on your chairs.  Would you like me to hail a waiter and have him hang them up?”

“As I just told you – we’re pressed for time.  We have other reservations.  Our coats are just fine sitting where they are for now,” Ben insisted and watched the woeful expression on the inspector’s face.

“I see,” He nodded.  “I certainly don’t want to keep you men any longer than what’s necessary.  Joseph – I heard about your brother Clay’s death.  I’d like to extend my deepest condolences on your loss.”

“Thanks,” Joe responded curtly.  He hadn’t bought the man’s offer of sympathy, and Joe was uneasy over the way he kept looking at his coat.  Joe wondered if the inspector had guessed that there was a gun hidden inside.

“The night that he died –” Townshend continued but Joe immediately cut him off.

“Get your facts right, Inspector, – my brother didn’t just die – he was murdered by an angry mob of superstitious lunatics!” Joe fired back angrily.

“And you were there to see it?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I was there,” Joe nodded.

“But you weren’t injured- – were you?” He continued questioning the young man.

“I had a bad case of yellow fever myself at the time.  My brother pushed me out of the house so I wouldn’t get burnt up the way he did,” Joe fumed, his resolve to control his temper had proven futile.

Ben cleared his throat and then lightly kicked his son’s ankle under the table.

“I see – where did you go once your brother pushed you out of the house?”

“Why?” Joe returned, raising his glass and trying to bite back his ire over being asked so many questions.

“Because there’s a missing person’s case that I’m trying to solve.  There was a man in the crowd by the name of Ezra Davenport.  He was seen by everyone present at the time right before the house caught fire.  However, he was never seen again and is presumed dead.”

“Don’t know the man,” Joe answered, still attempting and failing to hide his anger.

“He was an important man, and his brother Charles has been trying to find out what happened to him.”

“How about you using your resources to find the men who killed my brother?  That’s not a missing person’s case it’s an out and out murder!” Joe fired off only to see his father shaking his head at him, showing his displeasure over his son’s inability to control himself.

“I understand – that was a terrible thing,” the inspector nodded Joe’s way.  “But when a town is under a quarantine and people are dying right and left due to cases of yellow fever tempers run hot.  Your brother, his wife, and her father all had the disease.  People get very spooked over such things.”

“Spooked?” Joe asked angrily, raising his voice.  “No – not spooked — they throw torches!  I watched as they sailed them up onto the roof and the place went up like a powder keg!  I hold every single one of those men in that mob responsible for killing my brother.  So, you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t give a damn about what happened to one of the men who caused that fire!”

Clearing his throat, the inspector stared at Joe hard.  “You had a man with you when you were last spotted leaving that house.  He’s a big man, one who stands about six and a half feet tall, and one who happens to be retarded –”

Cutting the man off, Joe responded vehemently, “just because someone can’t talk doesn’t make them retarded!”

“Joseph,” Ben stated firmly and directed his gaze at him.  “We need to be leaving soon so why don’t you let the inspector finish his questions?”

“Go ahead,” Joe said quietly, dropping his head down a bit.  At that moment he wished he had some rotgut whiskey instead of the much weaker expensive red wine to calm his nerves.

“That man – the one you say isn’t retarded.  Do you have any idea where he is?”

“Why are you looking for him?”

“His name is Rene – apparently a man without a last name.  But we do know that he harbored you after the fire.  Now, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Joe nodded, looking piercingly at the man, “He harbored me as men with hunting dogs and rifles tried to kill me just like they killed my brother.  Rene saved my life.  And, no, I don’t have a clue where he is right now.  I haven’t seen him since I left Savannah last summer.  Something you probably already knew – just like you knew my father and I got into Savannah last night.  Now, have I answered all your questions?”

“We suspect him of killing Ezra Davenport,” He announced and leaned forward, casting a suspicious glare at Joe.

“On what basis?” Ben interjected, watching the blind rage spreading across Joe’s face.

“Eyewitness accounts, Mister Cartwright.”

“Oh?  Eyewitness accounts, huh? The same eyewitnesses that threw torches at a house where a man sick with the fever was mourning the death of his new bride?” Joe returned caustically.

Once again clearing his throat, the inspector looked back and forth between Ben and Joe and waited until tempers cooled before continuing.  “As I’ve told you, I’m trying to locate your friend.  And I don’t need any interference by you.  I don’t know where your travels will take you here in Savannah, Joseph, but I’d advise you to stay away from your friend.  I wouldn’t want to have to take you into our jail.”

“On what charge?” Joe spat back, his anger surging almost to the point of being seconds away from turning over the table there in front of him.  If it wasn’t for the fact that his father was firing a warning look at him at that moment he would have done it regardless of the repercussions.

“Aiding and abetting a fugitive from justice,” The inspector announced cooly.

Laughing due to the irony of the situation, Joe shook his head in dismay before speaking.  He finally choked out, “Justice?  Justice in this city?  Justice like my brother got?  Or is it perfectly acceptable to murder a person who doesn’t carry political clout like a Davenport?”

“Joseph,” Ben called as he stood from the table.  He drew out his pocket watch and stared at the time.  “We’re going to miss our reservations if we don’t leave soon.  Inspector Townsend—are you finished?”

“Yes,” He nodded as he stood.  “I’m done for now.  Thank you for your time.  I do hope you’ll conclude your business speedily.  I suggest you both do everything in your power to do just that, so you can be on your way back west,” Townsend announced invoking a pronounced warning in the tone he had used to get his point across.

“I agree,” Joe answered as he stood next to his father.  “You see neither of us wants to stay any longer than necessary because we don’t share a love for your city or for its people.”

Ben retrieved the billfold from his vest and placed the money for their drinks on the table.  Donning their coats he and Joe exited the building leaving the inspector wondering what they were up to and how far they’d go to help the fugitive.

---

Watching his son hurrying down the steps in front of the building they had just vacated, Ben shook his head sadly.  He knew that the boy was still suffering from the loss of his brother and after speaking with the inspector it had only opened old wounds that hadn’t had time to heal.  He slowly approached the boy who was out in the square leaning against the only tree that didn’t hold any Spanish moss on its branches.

“Joseph?” Ben whispered as he approached his son.  He settled a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder and waited.

“Did you hear him, Pa?” Joe questioned, his voice sounding strained.  “He said that Rene was fleeing from justice.  What kind of justice is there here in Savannah?” Joe asked and stared up at the tree he was leaning against.  “The same kind of justice that got an innocent woman hung in this square?  Or the type of justice that got my brother killed?”

Witnessing the unbridled indignation and pain there on his son’s face, Ben pulled the boy against his chest and whispered, “I know you’re still grieving the loss of your brother, Joseph.  And it’s not helping your being here.”

“Pa –” Joe began, tears trying to escape his eyes though he was fighting them back with everything he had left inside.  “Her name was Alice Riley—I remember the whole story now.  She was innocent and they hung her right here on this tree.  They waited until she had given birth to a baby by a man who took advantage of her.  Two weeks after having the child – she was dragged out here in this square and strung up.  That’s the type of justice that they have in the South.  And it hasn’t changed in over a hundred years!  It’s the kind of justice that makes a teenage boy carry more luggage than a full-grown man could handle.  The kind of justice that labels people due to their skin color!  And the kind of justice that took my brother away from me,” Joe choked out and finally lost his battle to control his tears.  They rolled down his cheeks at the very mention of what had happened to Clay.  “She cursed those who mocked the true meaning of justice and this square, Pa.  And I curse them too – all of them!”

“Oh, Joseph,” Ben sighed as he ran his fingers through his son’s hair trying to calm the tempest in his soul.  “Not everyone in the South is evil.  Granted there are some – just like in any other place in this world.  Are you forgetting all that Doctor Hardin did to help you?  Are you forgetting the kindness that Annabelle and her father showed you?  They were all from right here in Georgia.  And then there’s Rene—he’s from right here too.  You traveled over two thousand miles just to help him – and he’s from Savannah.  Don’t judge a whole city, state, or group of people due to the ignorance and evil caused by one group of men, Son.”

Joe drew in a deep breath as he swiped his hand under his nose, trying to rid his face of the tears which had coursed down his cheeks.  “I guess you’re right, Pa,” He choked out.  “But I’ve just got to find Rene — before anything happens to him because of those same evil men who hunted us down last year.  He doesn’t stand a chance of finding true justice.”

Ben patted the boy’s back.  “We’ll find him, Son.  But as for right now, the two of us are going for a nice walk,” he insisted as he pulled Joseph back and stared into his glazed eyes.  He smiled and adjusted the collar to his son’s coat.  “It’s a nice topcoat even if it did cost me my life’s savings,” He announced with a wink.

Joe understood the gesture and how Pa was doing his best to take his mind off his troubles.  He nodded his way and rewarded his father with a slight smile.  “Thanks, Pa – yours looks good on you too.”

Ben chuckled, “Thank you very much — now—how about that walk?”

Joe nodded and cast one final glance at the tree before stepping out of the square.  Settling an arm over his son’s shoulder, Ben crossed the road with Joe there at his side. Together they made their way back to the hotel.  They hadn’t seen the hulking figure who stood in the shadows watching their every move.

---

“Dad burn kid!” Ben fumed to himself as he stared into the empty room.  He had awakened shortly after two in the morning, sitting up abruptly in his bed.  That old familiar fatherly instinct had kicked in, forcing him to pull on his robe and slide into his slippers.  Ben crossed the parlor to peer in on his son to make sure he was sleeping soundly.  Not only wasn’t Joseph sleeping soundly, but he wasn’t sleeping at all!  The elegant four-poster bed in the far corner of the room that the boy had gawked at the previous night was now dreadfully empty.  Ben turned up the wick to the lamp he had carried with him as he scanned the bedroom.  Realizing that Joe’s topcoat was missing, Ben took that to mean that his son was outside somewhere with his eighteen sixty-one Savage.  *** Inspector Townsend warns that boy to stay out of his investigation and what does Joseph do?  Of course, he sneaks out the first chance he gets heading into trouble as usual!  Just wait until I get my hands on that boy – he’s going to need that Savage by the time I’m done with him! *** Ben hurried out of the bedroom and crossed the parlor making his way back to his own room.  He knew that he’d have to get dressed in a hurry so he could go and find the boy before he did something stupid like getting himself shot or arrested.

Ben tossed his clothes on top of the bed and came out of his robe, still fuming over the fact that Joe had slipped out without saying a word to him as to where he was going.  Just before he pulled the nightshirt off over his head, he heard an odd noise coming from across the room.  It sounded like a gentle tapping.  Ben turned towards the noise and walked over to the external door that led to a balcony.  He pulled back the drapes only to see Little Joe standing on the other side of the door smiling at him.

Shaking his head full of both bewilderment and anger, Ben opened the door.

“Thanks, Pa – I couldn’t get back in through mine,” Joe explained as he entered his father’s bedroom and started towards the parlor.  He felt a firm hand on his arm spinning him around.  Joe looked up to see one very perturbed father glaring at him.  “Oh – sorry, Pa – I didn’t want to wake you,” He attempted to calm his father’s nerves which he surmised were on end due to his disappearance.

“Joseph,” Ben began, his voice filled with aggravation.  “Do you want to tell me why you left without saying anything to me – and why you ended up on my balcony?”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Joe tried to explain his actions without further raising his father’s ire.  “Oh – that—well – I couldn’t get back to my room because I ran into a couple of men who no doubt are working with Inspector Townsend.”

“Wait,” Ben groaned, shaking his head over what his son had offered by way of an explanation.  “Sit down – you have a lot to explain to me.”  Ben gestured for the boy to take a seat in the close-by chair as he dropped down on the end of his bed.  He watched as his son did as he had been instructed and sat down.  “Okay, Young Man, this had better be good.”

Fidgeting nervously, Joe began to explain, “Pa – I got to thinking about everything.  I thought I’d heard footsteps behind us last night when we were going back to the hotel.  I figured that Townsend probably has his people watching us, so I thought I’d check it out for myself —” Joe was cut off by his father.

“Why didn’t you say something to me?  Are you trying to get arrested?” Ben raised his voice with mounting aggravation.  “You disappearing like that — wasn’t the wisest thing to do!”

“Just didn’t want to wake you, Pa – I knew you were tired.”

“Oh?  Do you think I’m resting in my bed now?”

“Sorry – if I could’ve gotten back through my balcony I would’ve.  But there’s two men posted at either corner of this place now – too close to where I climbed down earlier,” He continued, still trying to get his father to understand.

“You climbed down from your balcony?  Joseph – do you happen to remember back when you were seventeen?  You didn’t do too well with balconies there in New Orleans!”

“Oh, Pa – that was years ago!” He protested, knowing why Pa had mentioned the fall he had taken from a balcony while being held by a man from his mother’s past named Rene Marchant.  He had almost died from the stunt he had pulled in trying to flee from that man.  Little Joe had jumped between two balconies during a storm and had landed head-first onto the walkway below.

“It was only four years ago,” Ben grumbled, “and you almost got yourself killed!  Are you trying to end up in the hospital again?”

Joe crossed his arms over his chest and waited.  When his father went on a tirade, he knew that it was always best to just let him get it out of his system.  It had taken a few minutes, but Pa finally seemed to be simmering down.

“Sorry, Pa – I wasn’t trying to worry you.  I thought I’d be able to get in and out without you knowing about it.”

“Oh?” Ben replied, raising his eyebrows in gesture.  “How did that work out for you, Young Man?”

“Well, I shimmied down the drainpipe to get out of here but getting back inside was a real trick – but I managed,” He smiled, proud over his ingenuity, and trying to ignore his father’s disapproving gaze.  “I’m sorry I had to wake you up – but I sure couldn’t go in through my balcony, or they’d know that I’d been out snooping around.”

Ben shook his head and sighed, his son never thought things out before heading right off into danger.  “I was wide awake, Joseph –and getting dressed so I could find your ornery hide and drag you back here.”

Little Joe stood and peered out of the window trying to see if Townsend’s men could be spotted from his father’s room.  “Hey, Pa – I saw a total of four men – and by the way they were dressed I think they’re working for Townsend.  They’ve spent most of the night here next to the hotel just watching to see if we’re up to anything.  I was able to get around them, though.  I made my way to the Seaman’s Inn and Tavern on East Broad Street.  I just hung out there for a while and tried to blend in, you know?”

“Why did you do that?” Ben asked, shaking his head frustrated by his son’s apparent ease in getting around the downtown area.

“I just wanted to look around, Pa.  There’s an old tunnel in that place that Clay showed me.  We were there and met up with Rene one night.  The three of us took that tunnel all the way down to the river.  Don’t you remember me telling you about it?”

“Yes,” Ben sighed as he fought back a yawn.  “It sounded like a great place to get shanghaied!  And you could’ve ended up on a ship tonight and I’d never known what happened to my wayward youngest son!”

“No, Pa,” Little Joe grinned and patted his coat.  “Not with my Savage inside here— I’d have stopped anyone who even tried.”

“So, you went through that tunnel and down to the river – why?”

“Because I’d hoped that I might just find Rene.  He knew this city better than just about anyone and frequented the tunnels underneath it.  Pa, I think I can find him if I look hard enough.  But I had to give up this morning because of Townsend’s men.  I think it’d be a good idea to move to that caretaker’s cabin later today.  If they think we’re staying down there, I can give them the slip and come back here and do a more thorough search of those tunnels.”

“It’s late – or early – however you want to look at it.  Go and get some sleep, Son, and we’ll talk about all of that at breakfast,” Ben announced as he stood from his bed.

“Okay, Pa,” Joe agreed as he started for the door.

“Wait!” Ben called over to his son and hurried to the doorway.  He grabbed Joe’s arm and stared at him hard, a warning look in his eyes.  “You stay put; do you understand me?”

Nodding obediently, Joe grinned at his father and replied, “Sure I will, Pa.  Get some sleep.”

Ben groaned as he watched the boy making his way back to his room.  “Get some sleep, Pa – indeed!” He muttered and made his way back to his bed.

---

After several cups of coffee to try to wake himself thoroughly, Ben listened to his son’s plans and agreed that they needed to leave the hotel and move to the caretaker’s quarters on the Copeland Plantation.  They packed their bags and, after renting a carriage and two horses, they loaded their luggage and made their way south.  It had been Little Joe’s idea that they rented both a carriage and two saddle horses, and since he wasn’t paying for the tab, he didn’t mind the expenses his father would incur.  Begrudgingly Ben had settled up with the proprietor at the livery stable and they were given instructions on how to get to the plantation.

Spotting the general store that Milton Hardigree had told them about, they decided to load up on what they’d need.  Unsure of what they would find in the barn there on the plantation, Ben had grabbed some feed for the horses as Joe walked around gathering food and supplies which would tide them over for a couple of days.

“That will be twenty-three dollars and forty cents, Sir,” The storekeeper announced.

Ben opened his billfold to pay the man.  He then frowned over at his son.

“This trip will no doubt break me.  If we don’t get out of here soon, I’ll have to sell the Ponderosa just to break even,” he grumbled.

“It’s okay, Pa,” Joe winked.  “I’m about to come into a small fortune – I’ll pay you back.”

Shaking his head over what the boy had said, Ben paid the storekeeper and they grabbed their purchases and set them all inside the back of the carriage.

---

Little Joe’s heart sank in his chest as they came upon the charred ruins of the plantation house where his brother had perished.  He dropped his head down as tears began to form in his eyes.  The vision of the night of the fire played inside his mind and it seemed just as terrifying as it had nine months ago.  ***Why did you push me out of there, Clay?  I could’ve helped you! *** Little Joe thought as they finally drove past the remnants of the house and were making their way down the road leading to the cabin.

Ben hadn’t missed the way his son had turned away from him trying to hide his tears.  Draping an arm around the boy’s shoulder he whispered, “I’m sorry, Joseph.”

“I absolutely hate this place, Pa,” Joe whispered and swiped a hand across his face to push away his tears.

“I know,” Ben nodded and patted his son’s shoulder.  “We won’t be here long – hopefully.” He tapped the reins to increase the pace of the horse pulling the carriage.

Fifteen minutes later they pulled up in front of the caretaker’s cabin and climbed out of the carriage to look around.

“I’ll go put the saddle horses in that barn, Pa,” Little Joe offered, knowing that he needed a few minutes alone so he could try to pull himself together.

“That’s fine, Son – I’ll go see how it looks in there and then take our bags inside.”

Joe nodded and then untied the horses from behind the carriage, leading them towards the small barn on the side of the cabin.  He took the time to water the two mounts and then walked back to the carriage to help unload the supplies.  It had taken a good part of the afternoon to get to the cabin and then set up housekeeping, but by four o’clock the three horses were settled and Ben and Joe sat at the small table inside.

“Here, let’s see how good the coffee is around these parts,” Ben smiled as he stood and removed the coffeepot from the pot-bellied stove and poured two cups.

“Thanks, Pa,” Little Joe nodded and took a sip.  “I guess coffee is coffee no matter where you go – it tastes the same to me,” He added.

Sitting down in the chair next to his son, Ben stared over at the boy.  Joe had been unusually quiet that afternoon and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was still upset over seeing the remnants of the house or if he had something else weighing on him.

“Let’s hear it—what are you thinking about?” Ben asked sipping his coffee.

Little Joe drew in a deep breath and held it for a minute before exhaling.  He knew what his father was going to say about his idea, but he still was set on telling him about it.  “Pa – now hear me out –before you start yelling about what I’ve come up with. I’ve been thinking about the best plan of action, and I think I’ve come up with one.”

Ben groaned after hearing how his son had phrased his words.  It was never good when Joseph began by saying “hear me out” because it meant that he was planning on doing something hasty.  “I’m too tired to yell, Joseph—because you kept me up half the night.  Go on – spit it out,” He sighed.

“Well, I still think that looking in those tunnels is the best move.  And since I know how to get in and out of them, I think I should head into the city as soon as it gets dark.”

“What about Townsend and his men?  You said they were posted outside of the hotel last night – that means they’re probably looking for Rene and most likely you as well.”

Setting down his coffee cup, Joe stared over at his father and replied, “I’ve thought about all of that and I bet they’ve probably followed us here to make sure we’re really staying on the plantation.  That’s why I’ll leave after dark.  I know where I can tie my horse where it won’t be spotted and then get down into those tunnels.”

“I don’t like it,” Ben announced shaking his head.  “If you’re going to do that, I think I’d better go with you.”

“Pa,” Little Joe paused, dropping a hand down onto his father’s arm.  “Have a little faith in me, will you?  I’ll be careful – I promise!”

“You’ll probably end up either getting shot or arrested!”

“C’mon, Pa,” Joe complained.

“Okay I take it back,” Ben paused and raised his eyebrows.  “You’ll probably get shot while being arrested!”

“No, I won’t!  I told you that I’ll be careful.  I’ll just go and have a look around.  If I can’t find Rene, I’ll come right back.  If the two of us go it’s going to be easier to spot us,” He tried once more to garner his father’s compliance.  Casting a quick smile across the table, Joe added, “Besides, Pa, it’s not very clean under the city – it’s not somewhere you’d enjoy crawling around!”

Leaning back in his chair, Ben studied his son’s face and then shook his head.  “It’s not really somewhere I want YOU crawling around either, Young Man!”

Joe laughed and nodded, “It’s okay, Pa – I’ve been down there once before so I can handle it.  I promise that if I don’t find Rene, I’ll come right back.”

“And what if you do find him, have you thought about that?”
“Yes, Sir — I have.  I’ll try to talk him into letting me get him an attorney to straighten it all out.  All I can do is try, Pa.”

Ben groaned once more, “I still don’t like it.”  He watched as his son stared at him, his eyes reflecting the need for his father’s understanding.  Finally leaning forward, Ben settled a hand onto Joe’s arm and sighed.  “Alright – but you’d better come right back – do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And no taking any unnecessary risks – understand?” Ben reiterated.

“I won’t, Pa – I promise,” Joe answered.

“And,” Ben paused, and offered a penetrating warning in his gaze.  “No getting shot!”

Chuckling, Little Joe nodded, “No getting shot – I understand, Pa.”

“I want you back just as soon as you can too!”

“Yes, Sir – just as soon as I find Rene or make it through the tunnels and don’t find him.”

Ben leaned back and sipped his coffee unsure if he’d made the right decision by letting his son go off on his own.  He had witnessed the fierce determination that Joe wore and decided that he had to allow him to look for his friend or he’d never forgive himself.  Now it would be a matter of waiting and worrying about his son until he returned.

---

Tying the reins of his horse to a wrought iron fence behind the Old Brick Cemetery, Little Joe cautiously made his way to Chippewa Square to the very first tunnel he’d ever seen Rene climb out from.  He suddenly heard the echo of footsteps against the cobblestone walkway not far from the Square and quickly ducked into an alleyway.  Pressing his body up against one of the clapboard sided buildings, he waited for whoever it was to pass by.  After a couple of minutes, the street fell silent once more and Joe ventured over to the hidden entrance to the tunnel. He had brought with him a kerosene lantern but waited until he crawled down into the tunnel before lighting it to avoid detection.  Joe hadn’t spotted any of the same men he’d seen the previous night, but he assumed they were still out hunting for Rene.

The first section of the tunnel was tall enough that he could stand upright, but it channeled off in two different directions, and both of those tunnels weren’t as high, so he had to crawl on his hands and knees.  Lighting the lantern, Joe held it out in front of him as he made his way down the first tunnel, taking note of anything unusual that might have been left by his friend.  He remembered that Rene had some sort of a home base set up not very far from the Chippewa Square entrance where the two of them had spent some time when they had left the swampland south of the plantation house.  Little Joe came upon some old bedding about twenty yards down, but he wasn’t certain if it had been his friend’s.  He thought there was a chance that others might frequent the tunnels and was glad that he’d brought the Savage inside his coat.  Joe had added a compass to his father’s order at the general store and pulled it out to make sure he was still heading in the right direction.  Every now and then the main tunnel stretched out in all different directions and Joe didn’t want to get lost in a maze down below the city.  He wished he had thought of bringing a canteen because he had crawled for more than an hour by the time he stopped to catch his breath.

*** Where are you, Old Friend? Joe thought to himself and took the time to catch his breath before trying to determine which way he should look next.  It was then that he spotted a big brown rat running towards him.  He pulled himself back and hugged the wall to allow it to pass by.  *** Well, I guess seeing a rat is better than running up on a darn alligator! *** He mused.  Joe began to turn around in the tunnel and head back the way he’d come when another rat ran past him, and it was quickly followed by at least a half of a dozen other rodents.  Uh Oh! He thought to himself.  *** That ain’t good!  Wonder what’s got them stirred up?  I hope none of Townsend’s men have followed me down here! *** Joe stopped and listened, holding his breath.  The fingers of his left hand searched inside his coat until they fell on the pistol.   Well, if those rats are going that way – maybe I’d better head that way too? *** He thought and began to crawl in the same direction that the rodents had taken.  It was then that Little Joe heard a sound that almost stopped his heart.

“Jah!”

Spinning around, Joe watched the large shadow turn out of the tunnel heading his way.  The very next minute he was staring at Rene.

“Rene!” Little Joe’s voice rang out.  “Rene, I’ve been looking for you!” He hurriedly crawled in the man’s direction until the two of them were right next to each other.  Little Joe felt himself being swept up into a tight bear hug.

“Jah!” Rene cried and patted the boy’s head happily.  “Jah!”

“How are you, Old Friend?” Joe whispered, pushing aside joyful tears.  He had missed the big man who had saved his life numerous times the previous summer as they both fled from the men who were trying to kill them.

Rene smiled and nodded to Joe.  He couldn’t answer the question other than by the appearance on his face and the smile he’d offered.

Little Joe studied the other man’s tattered clothes and sighed very disheartened.  He knew that Rene had spent months trying to hide from those who had relentlessly pursued him.  “You’ve been on the run again, haven’t you?”

Rene nodded over to Joe and said, “Tun.”

“Yeah – I figured you’d come back to the tunnels.  Listen, Rene – I want to help you.  My father and I’ve come all the way from our ranch out west just to find you.  You remember I told you about him and my brothers?”

“Jah,” He nodded.

“Well, we want to help you – but you’ve got to trust us, okay?”

Rene shook his head warily, showing his fear of being captured.

“I know,” Joe sighed and patted the man’s arm.  “I know you’re afraid – just like I was last year.  But I’ll get you all the help I can.  My father and I will come up with a plan that will help keep those men from getting their hands on you.  Will you trust me?”

Rene still didn’t look convinced.  He simply sat there against the back wall of the tunnel and shook his head again.

“Rene – you can’t run forever, you know?  If you’ll just come back to the plantation then my pa and I will get you some help.  Will you do that – for me?”

“Jah,” Rene said quietly and shook his head once more.  He pointed up to the ceiling of the tunnel.

“I know – those men up there are evil – but you won’t have to deal with them.  Not if my pa and I can help it.  But you’ve just got to try – do it for me, will you?”

Rene thought for a few minutes and finally patted Joe’s arm and nodded.  “Jah.”

Little Joe grinned, “Good.  Now listen – do you think you can make your way out of here safely?  If you’ll meet up with me at the plantation then I’ll take you to meet my father.  He’s good at helping people and I know that you’ll like him.”

“Kah,” Rene said and Joe knew that meant Clay.

“Clay met my pa and he liked him – he liked him a lot.  He’d tell you to go with me – and he’d want you to meet my father,” Joe nodded.

“Kah,” Rene said, rather insistently nodding his head.

Little Joe wasn’t too sure what the big man was getting at but just presumed that he wanted to say something about Clay.

“It’s okay, Rene.  Clay would want you to listen to me.  Now could you get to that oak grove where we hid out those first couple of days after the fire?”

“Jah,” Rene nodded his head.

“Good – now how about we meet at sunset tomorrow?  We’re staying at that old caretaker’s cabin on the plantation.  I’ll meet you there at the oak grove and then the two of us will meet up with my father.  I just want to make sure nobody’s at the cabin before I take you there.  Can you make it there by sunset, Rene?”

“Jah,” Rene nodded and smiled at Joe again.

“That’s right – the two of us – we’ll take on anybody, won’t we?  Heck we even took on those alligators in that swamp!” Little Joe grinned.

Rene smiled broadly and replied, “Ah.”

“Yeah – that’s right – alligators.  At least we won’t have to do that again!”

Rene pointed back to the ceiling of the tunnel.  “Jah.”

“Oh – you think it’s time for me to get back up to high ground now?”

“Jah,” he nodded.

Joe understood what Rene was trying to warn him about.  “Okay – I’ll go.  Now – meet me at that oak grove tomorrow, you hear?”

“Jah, Jah,” Rene answered and patted his friend’s shoulder.

Joe hugged the big man and whispered, “It’s going to be alright, Rene—I promise you.  You got me out of a jam last year – this time it’s my turn to help you.  See you tomorrow.”  He turned and crawled off, leaving his friend sitting there inside the safety of the tunnel that had been his home for so long.

---

“That kid!” Ben fussed as he pulled on his coat in preparation to search for his wayward son.  It was after midnight and Joe had yet to return.  Stepping outside he caught sight of the boy riding up to the cabin.

Dismounting, Little Joe neared his father and asked, “Going somewhere, Pa?”

Ben groaned and shook his head, very agitated.  “Yes, going to look for you, Young Man!  Do you have any idea how late it is?”

Dropping his head down, Joe waited for his father to get it all out of his system before replying.

“Well, I’ll tell you!  It’s after midnight!” Ben continued, venting out his anger and worry.  He neared his son and looked him over trying to detect if he had been hurt.

“No bullet holes just like I promised, Pa,” Joe quipped, hoping to allay his father’s worry as well as tap down his anger.

“Were you put under arrest?”  He asked filled with exasperation.

“No, Sir – didn’t get arrested either.”

“Then why did it take you until the wee hours of the morning to get back here?  You said that you wouldn’t be gone long.”

Little Joe shrugged his shoulders helplessly and stared innocently at his father.  “Ah – Pa?  Could we maybe go inside, and then you can finish yelling at me in there?”

Folding his arms across his chest, Ben struck his normal rigid paternal stance and replied, “You go put that animal up and then get yourself inside so I can give you a piece of my mind.”

“Yes, Sir,” Joe nodded dutifully and reached for his reins.  He briefly turned around and didn’t miss the fact that Pa was still standing there, hands on his hips, glaring over at him.  *** I guess I should’ve stayed down in that tunnel with Rene and those rats! It would’ve been safer than being here with Pa right now.  Looks like it’s gonna be a long night. *** Little Joe sighed as he walked the horse into the barn.

“It doesn’t matter if we’re back home in Nevada or clear across the country — that boy doesn’t mind me worth a darn!” Ben grumbled as he walked back inside the cabin.

---

Before they turned in for the night, Little Joe explained to his father where he had gone and what had happened to him once he had found Rene.  Pa did seem a bit amazed that he’d found the man, but he wasn’t happy about how long it had taken Joe to come back.  He had worried all night due to his constant dread that Townshend was out combing the city of Savannah looking for his son.

“So, tomorrow I’ll go meet Rene at that oak grove and then we’ll come right back here.  You can try to talk to him about getting a lawyer – you know – put his mind at ease the way that only Ben Cartwright can?” Joe announced with a wink as he sipped the last of his coffee.

“Don’t try to butter me up now, Joseph, you’re still not off the hook for coming back so late,” Ben replied sternly, though he was fighting his amusement over what the boy had said but he sure wasn’t going to let him know.

Laughing, Joe patted his father’s arm and said, “Oh c’mon, Pa!  I didn’t get shot and I didn’t get arrested.  I just happened to be a little late – but it took me awhile to get my horse out of the cemetery.”

“The cemetery?” Ben returned, his eyebrows raised with astonishment.  “What was your horse doing in that place?”

Little Joe replied with a smile, “I told you I knew a place where nobody would look for my horse.  Nobody goes into that cemetery at night – it’s supposed to be haunted, you know?”

“This whole town is haunted, Joseph,” Ben sighed wearily.  “Okay, I’ll excuse your lateness this time – but don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now, why didn’t you suggest that Rene come straight here?”

“Because I didn’t know if Townsend’s goons were going to be scoping out this place tomorrow, Pa.  Can’t be too careful.  If we don’t see anyone then I’ll bring Rene right back here.”

Ben stood from the table and dropped a hand onto his son’s shoulder.  “Alright, Joseph.  Now grab one of those bunks and turn in.”

Little Joe stared at the two beds and frowned.  “I miss that magnificent – and very comfortable — four poster bed at the Pulaski House.  I was just getting used to living in the lap of luxury,” he quipped as he stood from the table.

“There’s always the floor, you know?  Perhaps that would be more to your liking?”

Laughing, Joe patted his father’s arm and returned, “Like I was saying – those bunks look just as comfortable as the beds at the hotel.”

Ben walked to one of the two beds and stretched out.  He was far too tired to get into his nightshirt.  “Goodnight, Joseph.  Thank you for not getting shot – or arrested.”

“Goodnight, Pa,” Joe laughed as he sat down on the other bunk across the room.

---

Little Joe turned to look at his father when they heard the loud thump on the cabin door.  The whole day had been uneventful thus far, and they had just tended to the three horses and eaten their lunch when they heard a rider outside and then the knock.

“I’ll get it,” Ben announced standing from the table.  “You just watch what you say if it’s Townsend.”

Joe watched as his father opened the cabin door and addressed the visitor.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Jacob Townsend said with a sly smile on his lips.  “Might I have a word with your son?”

Ben closed his eyes briefly and thought to himself.  *** Lord, I hope the boy isn’t about to get arrested! *** “Come on in”

The inspector walked inside the cabin flanked by Ben.  He drew closer to the table where Little Joe sat calmly sipping his coffee.

“What do you want?” Joe asked flatly, never standing up.

“I just wanted to ask you if you’ve seen your friend, Joseph,” Townsend questioned, and cast a wary eye around the cabin.

“You know I haven’t – I’m sure you’ve been watching us every day since we arrived here.”

“Mind if I take a look around?”

“What for?  Don’t you trust me?” Joe answered sarcastically and stood.

“We’ve got nothing to hide, Joseph.  Why not let the man take a look?” Ben offered, casting a warning glance at his son.

“On one condition,” Joe paused and stared at the man harshly.  “You check the place over and then leave.  We didn’t come down here to be disturbed.”

“Fine – I’ll leave as soon as I’ve checked the place over,” Townsend nodded and began walking around the main room.  “What’s back there?” He pointed to the one room off to the right side of the cabin.

“Go and see for yourself, I don’t give guided tours,” Joe responded caustically.

“Joseph,” Ben whispered and grabbed his son’s arm.  “Easy – it’s alright – settle down.”

Townsend walked into the spare room and searched the rest of the cabin before returning to the main room.

“Looks like you two are well stocked with supplies,” He announced looking at the bags of coffee, sugar, and other food stuffs there in the small kitchen.   “Planning on staying awhile?”

Ben shook his head and answered before his son had the chance to say something ill advised to the inspector.  “As we told you the other night, we’ll be here just long enough to settle the Copeland Estate.”

“I see – and when will that be, Mister Cartwright?”

“We’re to see our attorney on Thursday if you must know,” Ben returned, still eyeing his son and hoping he wouldn’t say anything outrageous.

“Now kindly get off this plantation,” Little Joe insisted.  He walked across the room and flung the door open.  “It’s private property and I’m now the new owner.”

“I’m trying to find a fugitive from justice, I believe I have jurisdiction, Joseph.”

“Then make it legal by getting a search warrant,” Joe fumed.

“If you’ve looked around enough perhaps it might be wise if you left us in peace,” Ben jumped in before Joe did something stupid and got himself arrested.

“Fine – I’ve seen what I wanted, Mister Cartwright.  I hope you both will conclude your business and have a safe trip back to your ranch.  Goodbye now,” he said and walked out the door.

Ben waited until he saw Townsend ride out of the yard and then turned back to his son.  “Joseph – are you trying to get yourself thrown into jail?”  He asked angrily.

Shaking his head, Joe replied, “No, Sir – but that man just grates on my nerves!”

“Being hostile doesn’t win you any points with him.  You need to watch that temper because I don’t want to have to come up with bail money.”

“Okay, Pa,” Joe frowned.  “Now can we talk about this evening?”

Ben walked back to the table and pointed at his son to sit down with him.  “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Joe began as he took a seat at the table next to his father.  “When Rene and I make our way back here – how about you put one of the horses out in that rope corral if you see anyone snooping around?  That way we can see it from a distance and just go another way until it’s safe.”

Sighing to himself, Ben nodded, “Alright, I’ll do that.  One horse in that corral means there’s trouble.  Stay away until you see that the corral is empty.”

“I don’t know how long we can hide Rene here, but I figure that tomorrow we can go talk to Hardigree and he might know a good criminal attorney who’d be willing to help.”

Ben nodded, “I think that’s a good idea.  Perhaps we’ll have to find another place to hide Rene tomorrow when we go back into town?”

“Okay, Pa,” Joe agreed.  “Well, we might just as well have some more coffee and maybe get something to eat before it’s time for me to leave.”

Ben smiled and stood to prepare some food and set the coffeepot back on top of the stove.  “The same rules apply, Joseph, no getting shot or arrested – you hear?”

Laughing, Joe nodded to his pa, “Yes, Sir – I’ve got no desire to do either!”

---

Ben stood behind the cabin as his son readied to leave.  He felt very apprehensive about Joe heading off on foot.

With worry creasing his brow, he set a hand onto the boy’s shoulder and stared at him hard, “You sure you don’t want to take one of the horses, Son?  It’d be faster.”

Little Joe shook his head; noting the deep concern in his father’s tone he tried to put him at ease.  “No, Pa – because there’s just no way that Rene and I could ride double.  He’s just too big!  And I don’t want to be seen pulling another horse behind me in case there’s someone snooping around.  It’ll be easier to hide if I’m on foot anyway.”

“Joseph, you’re sure you don’t want to take that fancy gun that cost you your life savings?”  Ben continued, surprised that the boy would part with the Savage.  Joe had carried it with him constantly.

Grinning, Joe patted his father’s arm and replied, “Oh, Pa – that thing weighs a ton!”

Ben chuckled, “I think I told you that it was as heavy as an anvil when you showed it to me the first time.”

“It’s a good gun to have – but not if you’ve got to be on foot for a good piece.  I’ve got almost two miles to walk, and I’ll make better time both ways if I’m not toting that thing.”

“There’s always your Colt?”

“Relax, Pa – I’m coming right back.”

“How many times have I heard that one?” Ben mused as he raised his eyebrows in gesture.

“No – really.  It shouldn’t take too long to find Rene and bring him right back here.  It’s about dark now — I’d better get going.  Remember to put one of the horses in the corral in case you spot someone!”

Ben nodded, “I will.  Good luck, Son.”  He pulled the boy to his chest and gave him a quick hug.  “You be all-fired careful, you hear?”

“Sure, I will, Pa,” Joe smiled and headed away from the cabin.

*** Relax, Pa – indeed! *** Ben thought to himself shaking his head as he watched his son running off to the south.  He said a quick prayer for his son’s safety as he turned back to the cabin.

---

Little Joe approached the grove of live oaks where he and Rene had hidden right after the plantation house had gone up in flames.  With only the full moon to light his way he walked deeper into the thick forest of pines and oaks, stopping every now and again to try to spot his friend.

“Jah!”

Joe spun around when he heard the sudden call.  He tried to home in on his friend but hadn’t spotted him until a thick arm came around his neck pulling him to the ground.  Joe fought against it for a minute and then realized it was Rene.

“Let up, Rene—you’re choking me,” Joe complained and tried to catch his breath.

Rene held a finger up to his lips and pointed into the forest just to the right of them.  “Jah, Jah!”

“You seen someone, Rene?”

Rene nodded and pointed again.

“You know how many?” Joe continued, hunkering down next to the big man.

Rene held up one finger.

“Let’s head out the other way before he spots us, okay?” Joe whispered.  He was beginning to regret that he hadn’t brought the Savage with him, just as Pa had suggested.

Rene grabbed Joe’s arm and replied, “Swa Jah!”

“Swa?” Little Joe asked, his face taking on a perplexed appearance until dull reality hit him between the eyes.  “Please tell me that you don’t mean swamp!”

Rene nodded insistently and grabbed Joe’s arm, forcefully pulling him along with him.

*** Oh, Dear Lord, please not that swamp again! *** Joe thought as he was dragged along by the giant of a man.  His mind fought back the terrible memories of being in the swamp with Rene while alligators circled around them.  Little Joe could still vividly recall telling his family about his ordeal in the swamp.  He thought back to how he had witnessed Pa and his two brothers hanging on to their seats as though they were experiencing the terrifying events through Joe’s eyes that night.  All three men downed shot after shot of rotgut whiskey as they listened to the frightening tale.  And he had imbibed in the potent alcohol with each word he had relayed to his family members. Joe closed his eyes as the memory flooded his mind.  He recalled every horrifying detail from the previous summer while Rene dragged him down to the swamp for the second time in his life.

*** “Rene – hey you think this will help that fever of mine?” Joe tried to joke in order to sound much more in control than he really was.  It was over ninety degrees outside and here he was in a swamp completely soaked to the bone.

“Jah  Jah,” Rene pointed behind Joe.

“Huh? What is it?  What are you pointing at?”

“Ahh Ahh,” Rene said, and his face wore a mixture of sadness and apprehension.

“I know – I know I miss Annabelle too – we just have to try to stay alive for the two of them,” Joe patted the big man’s shoulder to comfort him.

Rene shook his head excitedly and said once more, “Ahh Ahh!”

“I’m sorry – I must be getting punchy – I just don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me, Old Friend.”

Rene grabbed Joe’s arm, turning him around, so he wasn’t looking towards the shoreline but in the opposite direction.

Joe thought he had to be positively delirious and that his mind was gone.  He blinked hard and tried to see what Rene had motioned towards, but he didn’t see anything.  Finally, he saw them.  Just above the waterline were two eyes that appeared to just float.  He could see the slit to the eyeballs and wondered if it might be a huge snake which would have to be out of a nightmare.

“Ahh Ahh!” Rene called to Joe.

“Ah?” Joe answered trying to home in on what he was seeing and what Rene was saying as well.

“Oh my God!” Joe gasped as the two eyes slipped effortlessly through the water and the tail of whatever it was came closer.  Joe wondered just what could have those kinds of spikes on its back and tail.  It had to be some kind of unknown monster.  He wished that he would wake up and see his father there in his bedroom easing him out of the nightmare.  It couldn’t be real; it was far too big to be real.

“What in the Hell is that?!” Joe shouted over at Rene.

“Ahh Ahh!” Rene replied adamantly.

“Ahh?  I don’t understand – it’s huge and it’s coming this way.  Heck let them sick those dogs on me – let them shoot me I don’t care!  I’m not staying in this water with that monster!” Joe panicked.

Rene grabbed Joe so he wouldn’t get taken by the men out hunting for him.  He lifted him up into his massive arms just as the beast moved close to them.  Joe stared down from his perch in Rene’s arms and saw the thing move precariously close to Rene’s two legs.  Joe figured that the monster had to be at least ten feet long.

“Rene — don’t let it get you!” Joe cried out, worried that his friend would be the first one to get bitten and then he’d be next.

Rene held his hand up to Joe’s mouth so he would be quiet.  Joe fought to get free, but Rene was far stronger and he was weakened due to the fever.

“Jah   Jah — Ahh,” Rene whispered as the beast passed very close to where he stood.

“What is it — what is it Rene?” Joe asked again as he tried to figure out what he had meant by the sound of Ahh.  Finally, a drawing from grade school came into Joe’s troubled and fevered mind.  “Oh my God – Rene — is that – is that an alligator?”

Rene nodded and said, “Ahh.”

“Let’s get out of this swamp, Rene!  Those things eat people — I’ve heard of them – I ain’t seen them until now – and that was really close – closer than I ever want to be again!”

Rene shook his head and lowered Joe back into the water.  “Jah – Jah,” he said and kept his hand on Joe’s shoulder to prevent him from leaving the safety of the swamp.***

Two gunshots rang out just as Rene and Joe reached the banks of the swamp.  Joe briefly got a glimpse of a man wearing a brown derby and a plaid coat standing in the tree line.  He hurriedly pushed Rene down to keep him safe.  It was then that a bullet slammed into Little Joe’s right shoulder.  His breath leaving him due to the impact, Joe spun around and then fell straight down onto the wet ground.

---

Ben paced the cabin floor and snapped the lid to his pocket watch closed for the third time that hour.  Little Joe had been gone for just under two hours, and he couldn’t understand what was keeping the boy.  Ben was acutely aware that his son would know that he would worry, so he was starting to believe that Joe had run into someone on the way to meet up with Rene.  Just when he was about to grab his coat and go out after him, Ben heard bootsteps on the back porch.  He edged over to his topcoat lying on the bottom of his bunk and pulled out the Savage.

“Stand right where you are,” Ben warned as he pointed his gun at a man who was standing there facing away from him not far from the back door of the cabin.  “Now turn around slowly,” He instructed, wondering if it was one of Townsend’s men.

The stranger, dressed all in black, cautiously eased around to face the man with the gun.  He stared at him and then whispered, “Ben?”

His heart firmly planted in his throat, Ben Cartwright stood there speechless.   His mouth dropped open but no sound came out through his lips.

“I’m not a ghost – if that’s what you’re thinking.  And you don’t need that gun,” The man insisted and waited until Ben dropped his weapon down at his side.

“Clay?” Ben choked out, his voice as shaky as his gun-hand was at the time.  “Clay – is it really you?”

“Yes, Sir,” he nodded and watched the confusion spreading across the face of his mother’s husband.

“How?  I don’t understand – how can you be alive when Joseph said you died in the fire?”

“It’s probably best if we go inside and I’ll explain it to you?” He offered quietly.

Ben stepped back and pulled the door open.  He watched as Clay Stafford limped across the back porch, casting a slight smile as he walked past him.

The two men entered the cabin and Ben offered Joe’s brother a chair at the table.  He had noticed how pale and gaunt the man looked; nothing like his former self.  Ben had also noticed Clay’s limp as he crossed the floor and took a seat opposite him.

“I saw Little Joe leave—where’d he go?” Clay asked with worry etched all across his face.

“He’s gone to meet up with your friend Rene,” Ben replied, still trying to get his nerves into check after seeing someone who for all intents and purposes should be dead and buried.

“I hope he’s not encountered any trouble,” Clay sighed and coughed into his fist.

“Here,” Ben insisted as he hurriedly poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Clay.  “It’s not very hot – but it might help that cough.”

“Thanks – it flares up every once and awhile, Ben,” Clay nodded as he took the cup that he’d been offered.  He slowly sipped the warm brew, allowing it to soothe his cough.

Ben sank down into a chair and stared once again at his late wife Marie’s son, Clay.  “I don’t know what to ask you first.  Your brother has been devastated over your death.”

“I know my showing up like this is a shock to you.”

“That’s the understatement of all time,” Ben returned, still overwhelmed by the strange turn of events.  “Why didn’t you tell us?  We’ve been here in this cabin two days now.”

“So much has gone on, Ben – and I really didn’t want to get you or my brother mixed up in all of it.  But when I saw Joe leaving, I was worried about him and thought I’d better come and show myself to you and try to explain.”

“Clay—what’s happened to you – you look ill.”

Clay sipped more of his coffee before responding.  He had so much to tell the other man and was unsure where to begin.  “The night of the fire – I guess Little Joe told you that I pushed him out the door so he wouldn’t get hurt, right?”

“Yes – and he’s carried that with him every single day since then.  He’s mourned over you to the point of getting himself sick.”

“That’s just it, Ben – back then Joe was very sick with the fever.  If I hadn’t kicked him out of the house, he would’ve gone up with it.  I had to somehow protect my brother no matter what it took.”

Ben nodded, “I appreciate that of course – but why the charade?  You survived so why didn’t you tell the boy afterwards?”

“I was so afraid that I’d lose my brother, Ben.  If he’d stayed much longer, he would’ve ended up either dying from the disease or at the hands of the men who were pursuing him.  I had Rene take care of my brother – and later get him on his way to Atlanta.  That’s all I cared about after the fire.”

“But – what happened to you that night?  I thought you were in the house when it went up in flames?”

In low hushed tones, Clay tried his best to describe what had happened that terrible night, “I was in the house getting ready to go up the stairs to be with Annabelle.  It didn’t matter to me that she was already gone – I wasn’t going to let those men take her from me.  Before I could get to her, the walls began to come down around me and suddenly a man was standing there right where the stairs used to be.  He was holding a gun in his hand and he fired at me.  When he missed, I wrestled the pistol out of his hand and that’s when part of the roof came down and killed him.  I still don’t know what happened right after that.  I guess I was knocked out cold – I’m just not sure.  Somehow Rene made his way back to the house and found me.  He carried me here to the caretaker’s cabin.  I was in and out of consciousness for days.  I guess the times when Joe was out of his head due to the fever, Rene was here taking care of me.  He divided his time between the two of us.”

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t let Joseph know you were alive,” Ben said still bewildered by all he had heard so far.

“Ben – you know as well as I do that I couldn’t have gotten Joe to leave if he knew that I had survived.  He’d probably have insisted that I go back to Nevada with him once we were both well.  But he didn’t stand a chance in hell if he’d stayed here – not as sick as he was and with those men out looking for him.  I knew that the only way he could survive was for him to make his way up to Atlanta and then on home to you.  Once Rene let me know that Joe had made it out safely, I thought it was best under the circumstances that everyone believed that I was dead.  I felt dead inside anyway.”

“But – Joseph said he and Rene buried you and Annabelle.  I don’t understand.”

“Annabelle and the man who tried to kill me were buried there at the oak tree where Joe and the two of us carved our initials.  I didn’t want him buried there next to my wife, but I was afraid that someone might find the body on their own and start asking questions.  So, I let Rene pretend that he’d found my body and not the man who tried to kill me.  But a few months later the investigation started.”

“The investigation?” Ben questioned, confused by some of the details Clay had just offered him.  “You mean the missing person’s case?”

“Yes – the man who tried to kill me and died in the fire – it was Ezra Davenport.  I wasn’t sure about it – but after I saw his picture in the paper and found a ring with his initials in the ruins of the house, I realized it was him.  One night not very long ago, Rene and I dug him up and put him back under some of the charred remains of the plantation house.”

Ben reeled from the information and tried to take it all in.  “Why not tell the authorities so they’ll stop hounding Rene?”

“Because they’d probably say one of us murdered the man—there’s no way to prove our innocence, Ben.  Rene knows what’s happening, and he doesn’t want me to go to jail.  He took care of me after he got Joe safely away from here.  I broke my leg during the fire – and I guess I sucked in too much smoke.  I’ve had a nasty cough ever since that night.  But Rene set my leg and doctored me the best that he could.  After I lost Annabelle, nothing really mattered to me because I didn’t want to live after losing her,” Clay suddenly stopped speaking.  The reminder of the loss of the woman he had loved grieved him so much he could still taste the bitterness of it.

Ben reached over and set a hand on Clay’s arm, trying to offer what comfort he could.  “I understand that kind of pain very well.  I felt the same way when I lost your mother.  But you’ve just got to go on.”

Sighing to himself, Clay nodded, “I know that now, Ben.  I’ve been trying to book passage on a ship so I can take Rene away with me and start all over again.  But I’ve not had much luck on the docks.  I’ve got to find someone I can trust so we can safely get out of the harbor.  Rene is so big it’s easy to spot him especially with a reward on his head.

“Are you sure that it wouldn’t be better to just tell your story to Inspector Townsend?”

“Even if we could trust Townsend – which I don’t think we could – there’s the Davenport family that we’d have to contend with.  They’ve got a great deal of pull in this state and they’re out for blood, Ben.  No – if they think I killed Ezra they’ll make sure I end up going to the gallows.”

Ben opened his pocket watch and stared down at the time.  “We’ll think of something.  But right now, I’m concerned about your brother.  Joseph should’ve been back by now.”

“He should be safe if he’s with Rene.  Maybe they’re trying to get back – and are just being extra cautious?”

“I hope so,” Ben nodded.  “Let’s talk while we wait – if he doesn’t get back soon, I’ll go try to find him,” he said and reached for the coffee pot that he’d set back on top of the stove.

---

Rene lifted Joe up in his arms and carried him through the thick reeds and down into the swamp.  He held onto his friend to protect him and kept an eye out for the man who had sent the bullet which had struck the boy.

“Rene?” Little Joe muttered as he slowly returned to consciousness.  He felt the cool water seeping through his boots and suddenly realized where he was.  “Rene – I don’t want to stay in this swamp.  Will you go and get some help?  I can’t run right now—my shoulder is on fire.”

“Jah?  Kah?” Rene asked, his eyes brimming with tears, so worried about his friend’s injury.

For the life of him Joe couldn’t figure out why the big man kept mentioning Clay.  He had to try to get through to him somehow.  “Rene – listen to me, okay?  You can’t get me back to the cabin – I’d just slow you down and what with that man out there somewhere with a gun it’s just not safe for you to stay here.  But if you can just make it to the caretaker’s cabin my Pa will look after you.  He’ll hide you.  My father is a tall man with silver hair – you can’t miss him!  Tell Pa to come on horseback and fetch me out of here.  Then you stay at that cabin until we get back.  It’s safer than being here in the swamp with me – you’re too big of a target, but I’m not.  Besides, I’m just too weak right now – I’d never make it.  Now get going, okay?  Just go to the cabin – Pa will know who you are.  He’s a nice man – he won’t hurt you I promise!  Listen – I told Pa to set one of our horses inside of that rope corral next to the cabin if there’s trouble.  If you see one inside of it then just hide somewhere until the corral is empty and then go get Pa.”

“Jah – Ah!”

Joe’s face paled when he heard Rene’s warning.  From past history he was very keenly aware of what it meant.  Cautiously he looked behind him, and even in the dull light given off by the full moon he could see the alligator gliding along next to the two of them.

“Rene—I won’t hurt them if they don’t hurt me.  Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.  Now please go and get my Pa.  Can you say that word?”

“Pah?” Rene repeated, a question in his eyes.

Joe fought off his pain to offer the man a smile, “Good job, Rene!  You just say Pa and he’ll know that you’re talking to him.  He’ll also know if you say Jah that you’re talking about me.  Let him know where I am and to come fetch me on horseback while you stay put, okay?”

Rene nodded and carefully eased the boy down into the reeds closer to the banks of the swamp.  He hunkered down low to the ground and hurried off into the woods towards the cabin.

---

Ben and Clay both heard the racket out on the porch.  Unsure if it was Joe and Rene, Ben grabbed the Savage and slowly inched the back door open.  He saw a hulking figure of a man even taller than his son Hoss.

“It’s okay, Ben – it’s Rene,” Clay sighed with relief as he hurried outside.

“Rene – come in please,” Ben joined the other two men on the porch and offered the man a welcoming smile so he would know that he was safe.  He stood back to allow both Clay and Rene to come in through the back door.

Rene looked at Clay and then at the silver-haired man.  “Pah,” Rene said urgently and pointed at Ben.

Taken aback hearing the large man’s greeting, Ben finally recovered and nodded.  “Yes—that’s right, Rene.  I am Joe’s Pah.”

Rene turned and looked at Clay a distressed expression on his face, “Kah – Jah!  Jah!”

“What about Joe, Rene?  Where is he?” Clay coaxed his friend out with the information.

“Swa—Jah – swa!”

Clay’s face grew pale as he cast a precarious look at Ben.

“What is it?” he questioned.

“Joe is in the swamp, Ben,” Clay announced and looked back at Rene.  “Is he hurt, Rene?”

Rene nodded excitedly and pointed at his shoulder.  “Jah!”

“He got hurt – how, Rene?” Ben questioned, not knowing if the man would be able to explain himself well enough.

Rene made his hand into what looked like a gun and nodded at both men.

“Joe was shot, Rene?” Clay jumped in.

Rene nodded excitedly.  “Pah!  Jah – Pah!” Rene insisted.

“Joe needs me – is that right, Rene?” Ben returned breathlessly.

Rene nodded.

“Look – is there somewhere that the two of you could hide until we get back?”

“Yes – there’s a false floor in the back room of this cabin.  Nobody knows about it – not even the previous caretaker.  Annabelle’s father showed it to me a couple of years ago.”

“Fine – the two of you go down there as soon as I leave.  I’ll call to you when I get in with Joseph.”

“Ben – why don’t I go with you?” Clay offered, fear for his brother’s safety written all over his face.

“No – you stay here with Rene, Clay.  You’re not well.  I’ll take care of the boy.  Now tell me where that swamp is.”

Clay pointed past the back porch and answered, “About two miles south of here.  You can’t miss it – but it’s dangerous, Ben.”

Closing his eyes, Ben thought back to the terrifying stories that Joe had told him about the place.  He cringed at the thought that his son had ended up there again, and this time with a bullet wound in him.  Ben didn’t relish the idea of going there either, but he would have moved heaven and earth to help save his son.

“I’ll take one of the horses — that way we can get back here quickly.  Now you two go and hide – the last thing we need is for whoever shot the boy to show up here!” Ben exclaimed and hurried to get his coat.  He was going to take the gun his son had brought all the way from Nevada just in case they encountered danger; apparently Joseph’s instincts had been correct.

Within minutes, Ben was mounted on his horse, spurring it out of the yard and into the dark of night riding hard so he could get to his son.

---

Little Joe struggled to keep the bullet wound in his right shoulder above the waterline.  It had been bleeding quite a bit, and he didn’t want to draw any of the many predators hiding in the swamp over to him because of the scent that fresh blood would leave in the water.  He couldn’t chance trying to get to shore because he’d be out in the open and the man who had shot him might still be lurking about.  Earlier Joe had watched as the huge black shadow made by Rene had made it safely out of the water and, the last time he’d spotted him, it looked as though he was moving fast trying to get to the cabin and bring back help.  Joe fought back both his increasing nausea and intense fear.  In the pale moonlight he witnessed at least half a dozen alligators slowly gliding past where he stood treading water but trying to be quiet about it.  He prayed that Rene had made it to the cabin safely for his friend’s sake and for himself.  Joe was secure in the fact that once Pa heard that he had been shot he would rush right out to help him.  He was just a little bit worried that his father might not be able to understand the big man.  Joe figured Pa would understand the name Jah because he’d told him that Rene had called him that the previous summer.

Ben ground tied his mount in the tree line just to the east side of the swamp.  He quietly made his way to the water’s edge and peered out in the direction of the tall reeds trying to spot his boy.  Ben didn’t want to yell Joe’s name because he was unsure whether whoever had shot the boy was still around.

“Joseph?” Ben whispered as he slowly waded out into the cool dark water.  His coat ballooned out as his waist dipped lower into the swampy marsh.  Ben wished that he’d been able to take it off, but he had wanted to keep the Savage close in case he spotted the shooter.  “Joseph?  Can you hear me?  Where are you, Boy?”

Joe closed his eyes, getting woozy due to blood loss.  In the past hour he had almost allowed his face to dip down into the water numerous times but then he’d hear splashing sounds that were far too close for comfort.  When he heard something drawing closer to him, Joe became terrified that the blood from his wound had drawn an alligator over to him.  He blinked his eyes open quickly but couldn’t catch sight of what was approaching from somewhere off to his right.  A surge of adrenalin suddenly coursing through his veins, Joe held his breath and waited.

“Joseph?” Ben sang out again and sank down lower in the muddy water.  “Can you hear me, Son?”

Finally realizing that it was his father’s voice that he had heard and not the approach of a reptile, Joe looked to his right and spotted him about seven or eight yards away.  A tremendous wave of relief swept over Joe, causing tears to form in his eyes.  “Pa!” he cried out as he attempted to move closer to the man.

“Just stay put, Son – don’t move!  I’m making my way over to you right now,” Ben answered and carefully waded over to the boy.

“Thank God,” Joe whispered when he felt Pa’s wet fingers searching for his one good shoulder.  He didn’t know when he’d ever felt so relieved to see his father or feel his touch.

Moonlight cut through the swamp as Ben finally got a tight grip on his boy.  Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, he choked out the word, “Joseph.”

“I’m sorry, Pa,” Little Joe moaned weakly.  He felt terrible for having caused his father to come to his rescue out in the dreadful swamp filled with both deadly alligators and water moccasins.

Ben carefully pulled Joe tight against his chest, hugging his son right there in the black waters of the swamp; taking no thought to the danger that he was in at the time.  The fierceness of Pa’s embrace let Joe know, without another word exchanged between them, just how terrified his father had been of losing him, and how relieved he was to have found him alive.  Closing his eyes, Ben pressed his lips against the boy’s clammy forehead and offered a silent prayer, thanking God for watching over his son.  Trying to push aside the terrible thoughts he’d had about finding his son dead, Ben cleared his throat to rid himself of the latent emotion.  “I just knew you’d get shot,” he admonished the boy and then grinned knowingly at him.

Joe winced as the quick movement of his father’s embrace jarred his wound, but he forced his lips to form a tight smile.  It came off a bit lopsided due to the agonizing pain, but he wanted Pa to see it.  He wanted his father to know that the feeling was mutual, and he was equally glad to be held there in his arms.  “You were right, Pa.” Joe coughed, expelling some of the swamp water he had taken in.  With his voice just above a whisper he added, “Unfortunately you always are.”

Ben bent down and briefly examined his son’s wound.  There in the light given off by the full moon he saw enough to know that there was a slug in his son’s shoulder, and it needed to come out.  “Joseph – why didn’t you climb back on the shore instead of staying in this swamp?”

“I couldn’t – Pa.  There’s some lunatic wearing a brown derby and a plaid coat who’s gunning for me.  I’ve heard him moving around a couple of times – whenever I tried to drag myself out of here.  I think he’s over in that stand of trees to our right.  This wound has got me feeling pretty weak – so I didn’t think it was a good idea to try to get out of the swamp until you made it here.  He already shot me once – that’s about all the bullets I need in me right now.  My shoulder feels like a hot knife is going through it.”

“Good thing I’ve got that Savage you bought, Son.  If I get a bead on him, I’ll just even the odds,” Ben tried to sound more confident than he really was at the time.  Presently he had an injured boy on his hands and a possible sniper out in the darkness somewhere.

“Don’t get too wet, Pa – remember that gun is like an anchor and you’ll sink,” Joe attempted to joke about the situation though he was hurting like the blue blazes.

“Fortunately, the Savage is above my waist in that secret pouch inside the lining of my coat or it wouldn’t be any good now.  Let’s start back to shore and I’ll listen out for that man.”

Joe watched as a pair of eyes effortlessly glided on top of the water heading straight for them.  “Pa – don’t move right now,” he choked out his warning and held still.

“Why?”

“Because you’re gonna have to decide which way to point that gun – either toward those trees and the man who may be out there ready to fire off a shot at us or at the monster that’s coming our way,” Joe explained, dreading what could happen if one of the alligators had gotten the scent of his blood.

“Don’t tell me – it’s not one of your ten-foot-long friends, is it, Joseph?” Ben questioned trying his best to hide the increasing fear in his voice.  Slowly turning around, still holding onto the boy, he cast a wary eye at the massive ripples forming in the dark water.

“Yeah, Pa – just hold real still for a few minutes and hopefully it’ll just swim by us.” Joe cautioned, all the while praying that the huge reptile wouldn’t go after his pa.

“Keep that shoulder above the water, Joseph – your wound might make that thing come closer!” Ben insisted as he finally got a good look at the alligator which was now close enough to reach out and touch.

“Just don’t move, Pa,” Joe muttered and held his breath.

For what seemed like hours, but in fact was only a few minutes, the alligator simply stopped its progression through the water and floated there next to them.  Ben and Joe clung to each other without making a sound.  The beast finally thrashed its tail back and forth a few times and then slowly swam past them, finally turning in the opposite direction.

“Whoa – that was a close one,” Ben groaned as he got a better grip on his son, trying to keep Joe from going under.  He could easily tell that the boy’s strength was waning.

“Pa – I’ve counted almost twenty of them while I was waiting for you to show up,” Joe announced weakly.

Ben was just about to comment when he felt his son’s body going lax in his arms until he wasn’t much more than a dead weight.  He surmised that Joe had passed out due to the loss of blood, along with the pain from his wound.  Ben was scared to death over the thought of what could have happened to his son.  He knew that the boy had hung on with all that he had left inside while he waited for help.  If Joseph had fallen out earlier, he would’ve either drowned or he’d have been carried off by one of the alligators.

“I’ve got you, Joseph,” Ben crooned, fighting back the appearance of sudden tears in his eyes.   He pulled his son’s soaking wet body up into his arms, being cognizant of the blood which still dripped from Joe’s shoulder wound.  He knew that the last thing that they needed was to draw more predators to them due to the scent which was now in the water.  Ben carefully waded through the muddy depths and thick reeds as he sloshed his way to the banks of the swamp.  He made his way over to the tall grass and gently placed his son down on the ground out of harm’s way.

Only the bottom half of Ben’s long coat was wet, so he removed it now that they were next to the horse he’d ground tied earlier.  He took a quick second to remove the gun from its pouch and placed it inside the saddlebags.  “Let’s see what you’ve done to yourself this time, Son,” Ben sighed as he checked the wound a bit more thoroughly.  Kneeling next to Joe, Ben reached for the boy’s left shirt sleeve, tearing it loose from the seams at the shoulder.  It being the only part of the material that was even close to being dry, he wadded it up and placed it against Joe’s wound attempting to staunch the flow of blood.  Next, Ben grabbed his coat and wrapped his son inside of it, trying to bundle him tightly enough to warm his body.  He had grown very concerned that Joseph had spent much too long in the cool murky water of the swamp and what with having bled so much from his wound, Ben was worried that the boy might have a touch of hypothermia going on which could bring about a bad case of shock.  That was the last thing that either one of them needed!  The coat wouldn’t offer much by way of warmth, but it was the best that Pa could do for the time being.  He cast a wary glance over to the other stand of trees to make sure that the hidden assailant wasn’t getting ready to send another bullet their way.  Ben didn’t see anyone and he wasn’t planning on sticking around long enough to find out if the sniper was still hiding somewhere.

“Joe— Joseph — can you hear me?” Ben asked as he lightly slapped the boy’s face trying to bring him back around.

A dull moan emanated from Joe’s lips and his eyes rolled back before his eyelids finally opened halfway.  “Pa?” he asked filled with confusion as if he was stuck inside some kind of a foggy dream.

“Joseph – I need you to try to stay with me now– c’mon –keep those eyes open.  I’ve got to get you up in the saddle.  I’m gonna sit you there in front of me – and it won’t be long until you’re safe and warm there in the cabin.”

“Rene?  Pa – did Rene get there okay?”

Ben grinned and shook his head over his son’s question.  Here the boy had a slug buried in his shoulder and he was worried about his friend.  After years of careful observation, Ben wouldn’t have expected anything different from his son.  “Yes – Rene is at the cabin – don’t worry.  Now – let’s get you up into that saddle,” He announced calmly and pulled the boy back up into his arms.  It had been a real chore to get Joe lifted high enough so he could straddle the horse, but he finally succeeded.  Swinging up into the saddle, Ben mounted and reached for the reins.  He held them in his right hand while wrapping his left arm securely around the boy’s waist and pulling him taunt against his chest.  “Let’s go,” Ben announced and kicked at the horse’s sides.

---

The horse snorted loudly as Ben jerked back on the reins upon riding up in front of the cabin.  He was afraid for his son who had passed out just a few minutes after he had been placed there in front of him a half an hour ago.  Ben slid his right leg across the saddle and came down to the ground.  He reached for his son who came down into his arms just as lifeless as a ragdoll.  Ben kept speaking to Joe, though he knew he was beyond hearing him.

“We’ll get you all fixed up, Joseph,” He insisted as he crossed the yard and climbed the three steps to the cabin’s front door.  Carefully shifting the boy’s body a bit, Ben was able to free up one hand so he could pry the door latch open and step inside.

“Here we are, Son,” Ben whispered and spread the boy down onto one of the bunks.  “Now you just lay there for a minute while your pa takes care of a few things.’

Ben pulled off his soaking wet boots and socks, setting them down in front of the potbellied stove.  He decided he’d rather spend the night barefooted than walking around in the mud-filled boots.  Ben reached down and pulled Joe’s boots and socks off his feet as well and placed them next to his.  *** I’ve got to have some help. *** He thought and cast a quick glance at the back room.  “I’ll be right back, Son,” Ben crooned to a boy who was beyond being able to hear his words.

Walking over to the next room, Ben stopped and looked for the secret opening Clay had spoken about.  Unable to locate it, he took the heel of his right foot and pounded on the floor as loudly as he could manage.

“It’s okay, Clay — Rene – we’re back!” Ben sang out and waited.  Just a minute later part of the floor lifted up just a foot away from where he had been standing and he soon faced both men who had hidden down below.

“How’s Joe?” Clay asked breathlessly, staring at the worry-creased face before him.

Ben sighed and fearfully shook his head.  “He’s in rough shape.  I could use some extra hands – Clay – and you too, Rene.”

The two men followed the anxious father into the next room and stared down at Little Joe.

“He’s out of it,” Clay whispered after feeling Joe’s forehead.  “I think he’s worked up a fever, Ben.”

“I know – that slug’s got to come out.  Could you get some hot water going on the stove, Clay?  And if you’ve got some whiskey hidden anywhere it might come in handy.”

“I found some down below that Mister Copeland had stashed away.  I’ll go heat the water and then get it,” Clay nodded and hurried off to assist in his brother’s care.

“Rene?  Could you tear the sheet over there on that other bunk into strips about this wide?” Ben motioned with his hands the size he’d need to bandage the boy.

Rene nodded and walked across the room, hurrying to help his friend.

Ben walked back to Joe’s bunk and tried to decide what he should do next.  “Guess you need to come out of those wet clothes, Young Man,” Ben whispered.  He pulled the coat off his son and tossed it on the bottom of the bunk.  Then Ben loosened the buttons of Joe’s shirt and gently eased it off him, being mindful of the boy’s injury.  He unbuckled Joe’s belt and pulled it out from behind him and then tugged off the water-soaked pants.  Reaching for the blanket, which was lying on the footboard of the bunk, he spread it over his son to prevent him from catching a cold after so many hours in the murky depths of the swamp.  Ben swept the wet bangs off his son’s forehead and sighed.  It wasn’t the first time he’d had to remove a bullet from his youngest, but regardless he was worried over the prospect of doing it.  How he wished that they were back home and Doc Martin was there at his son’s side.  During such times all Ben had to do was hold his son’s hand and encourage him.  But now he’d have to perform the surgery and that wouldn’t be easy.  “Rest, Joseph — your Pa’s right here next to you,” He whispered and leaned forward to leave a kiss on his son’s forehead. Drawing in a deep breath, Ben pulled himself off the bunk to prepare to go after the slug in his son’s shoulder.

---

Clay held the kerosene lamp up at the head of the bed and Rene stood off to his left shoulder waiting and worrying about Joe.  Ben sat there on the right side of the bunk and stared at his son’s wound.  With the knife he had just heated and poured whiskey over in his hand, he readied to remove the slug.  He had hoped that his son would have stayed unconscious but just when he began to carve through the bullet hole, Joe awakened.

“No,” Joe muttered, thrashing his head on the pillow and trying to pull himself away from the feel of the hot metal that was cutting into his flesh.

“Easy, Boy – easy,” Ben tried his best to calm his son.

“Pa?”  Joe whispered, his fevered mind wondering what was going on.  “Pa – the swamp – watch out – there’s one next to you!” He cried and thrashed wildly on the bunk.

“Everything’s okay, Joseph.  We’ve got a bullet that needs to come out of you – so just ease back and let me have at it.  It won’t take long,” he said softly trying to allay the boy’s fears while holding him down with his left hand.

“But – the alligator –it’s almost – it’s almost on top of us – Pa – watch out!” Joe’s pleas grew louder as his body tensed up with fear.

Ben looked up at Clay who stood on the opposite side of the bed still holding the lamp.  “Better go fetch me some of that whiskey in a cup.”

“Pa?” Joe muttered, caught between consciousness and delirium.  He had seen the figure of someone as they passed by the bed.  “Pa – who – who’s that?  Is it one of Townsend’s men?”

There was a bullet that needed to come out of his son, and it needed to come out quickly as Ben was afraid that the boy would end up with blood poisoning if he waited too much longer.  He didn’t want to get into the fact that Clay was alive and assisting him with the operation.  It would be just too much for his son to take in at the present time.  There wasn’t a need for any long, drawn-out explanations, not just yet.

“Everything’s just fine, Joseph.  See your friend Rene standing here?” He motioned to the big man on the left side of the bed.

“Rene?  Rene – you’ve got to get to Pa – he’s at the cabin.  No – no — Pa’s out in the swamp – Rene!  We’ve got to get him out of there – the alligator – it’s closing in on him!” Joe cried out, rapidly blinking his eyes due to the onset of fever-induced delirium.

“Jah,” Rene replied and set one massive hand onto the boy’s left shoulder.

Joe closed his eyes and fought back his nausea and confusion.  “Pa?”

“It’s alright, Joseph, I’m right here next to you.  The two of us made it out of that swamp –and the alligators didn’t get us.  Just settle down now,” Ben responded squeezing his son’s right hand trying to reassure him that he really was there at his side and not back in the swamp fending off alligators.  “Now – you let me get that bullet out of you, Young Man, and then we’ll talk.”

Clay returned with a cup half filled with whiskey.  “Here, Ben,” he said handing it to the man.

“Thirsty,” Joe muttered, his tongue sliding back and forth against his parched lips.  “Thirsty,” he repeated.

Ben traded Clay the knife for the cup in his hand.  He reached down and lifted Joe’s head up a bit and said, “Here you are, Joseph.  Take a couple of good sips of this then you’re going to have to settle back.”

Closing his eyes, Joe’s lips found the edge of the tin cup, and he drank some of the whiskey before nodding to his father that he’d had enough.  Ben dropped the boy’s head back down onto the pillow and handed the cup back to Clay in exchange for the knife.

“Pa?” Joe whispered, his eyelids beginning to droop.

“Yes?”

A single moment of clarity taking over, Joe began to speak, “Pa – they say before you die that you can see people who have passed on – I think I’m dying.  I – I – just saw Clay.”

Chuckling, Ben shook his head and signaled for Clay to come closer.  “You’re not dying, Joseph – and you’re not dreaming.  Your brother is alive – and he’s standing right here next to you now.”

Joe’s eyes blinked open as he watched Clay leaning down closer to him on the left side of the bunk.

“I’ll explain it all to you later, Brother.  But right now, you’ve got to let your Pa get that bullet out,” Clay said and patted Little Joe’s one good shoulder.

“Clay?” Joe whispered, very sure that he was imagining everything due to his fever.

Ben cleared his throat and announced sternly, “Your happy reunion with Clay is going to have to keep for a little while, Son.”

“But –” Joe wanted to know what was going on but the fierce pain from his gunshot wound wouldn’t allow it.

Clay noticed his brother’s face scrunching up in agony and reached for the whiskey that remained in the cup he had set down.  “Here, Joe – sorry I don’t have any of the pulque you’re so fond of, but this is some of Mister Copeland’s finest Tennessee whiskey.  Better get a little more down before your Pa goes after that bullet.”

Hurting too badly to ask any further questions, Little Joe accepted the cup one last time and took in a couple of sips before his brother set it aside and nodded over to Ben.

“Now bite down on this, Joseph,” Ben insisted and placed a piece of leather in the boy’s mouth.  He waited until Joe obliged, clamping his teeth down on it.  Then, giving a slight nod of his head, he let Pa know he was ready.

“Hold that lamp a little closer, Clay,” Ben instructed as he set the blade of the knife against his son’s wound.  Drawing in a deep breath to steady his hand and his nerves, he made an incision through the entrance wound.  Ben witnessed his son’s back arching, and he almost came off the bunk.  “Clay, hold that left shoulder down,” He commanded and waited until the man had a good strong grip on his brother’s shoulder.  Ben cut a line about an inch in length through the jagged hole that the bullet had left in his son.  That was as much as Little Joe could tolerate and he passed out cold.  “Good – you don’t need to be awake for this, Joseph,” He muttered and then went about the arduous task of locating the slug.

---

Ben had insisted that one of the two men take the other bunk and get some sleep while he waited for Joe to come around.  He had removed the bullet from his son’s shoulder and cleaned the area well.  Ben wrapped the wound tightly with the strips of bandage Rene had made from the sheet.  He had watched as Rene had argued with Clay in his own broken vocabulary, insisting that he’d rather sleep there on the floor next to the bunk.  Finally, Clay had given up trying to make the giant of a man lie down somewhere softer and took the extra blankets he’d found in the hidden room below the cabin and made up a pallet on the floor for Rene.  He then did as Ben had asked and spread out on the bunk.

After watching over his son for better than three hours, Ben had finally given in to the exhaustion caused by a very frightening night including his time spent in the swamp and operating on the boy.  He slumbered on in the chair next to Joe’s bunk until just before daybreak when he was awakened by his son stirring in the bed.

“Pa – Pa – what’s going on?” Little Joe whispered, blinking his eyes trying to focus on his father sitting just to the right side of his bunk.

Ben coughed to clear his throat and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands trying to wake up fully.  He leaned forward in the chair and patted the boy’s arm trying to instill calm in him.

“Everything’s fine, Joseph – settle down now,” He cooed and reached for the cup of water he’d left on the small table next to the bunk.  “Here – drink a little bit of this.”

Joe leaned forward and accepted the cup that his father held to his lips.  He drank what he could before waving it away.  “Did you get it out, Pa?”

Chuckling as he set the cup back down, Ben nodded to his son.  “Sure did – it was in pretty deep – and was a bit stubborn but here it is,” He handed Joe the slug.

Studying the bullet, Joe offered a wry smile and remarked, “They come out of a man a lot tougher than they go in, Pa.  Sorry about me getting shot – but at least I didn’t get arrested.”

“Don’t even say that word – we’re not home yet you know?  Nothing that you do surprises me anymore, Young Man.”

Wincing his face as he shifted on the bunk, Joe nodded.  “Yeah, I surprise myself sometimes though.  Like being in a swamp filled with alligators for the second time in my life.   Hey – I must’ve been pretty much out of it, huh?  I had the strangest dream, Pa.”

“Oh?” Ben returned and a knowing smile played upon his lips.  He had pretty much guessed what his son’s next words would be.  “What about?”

“It was Clay, Pa – he was right here in this cabin.  And I dreamed that he was standing just on the other side of this bunk.  It seemed so real,” Joe sighed, shaking his head sadly.

Ben nodded and replied, “Well, if you’ll promise to stay down and try not to move maybe I’ll fill you in on why you had that dream.”

“Huh?”

Pointing across the room over at the other bunk, Ben said, “Clay is in that bed right now, Joseph.  It wasn’t a dream at all.   It’s going to take a lot of explaining – but he’ll tell you all about it shortly.”

“What?” Joe gasped and then witnessed the still form on the other bunk slowly getting up and heading his way.

“I thought I heard your voice, Brother,” Clay smiled as he drew closer to Ben and Joe.

Ben stood from his chair and directed his attention to Clay.  “Now – if you’ll make sure that this boy doesn’t move around, I’ll leave the two of you alone so you can talk for a while.  I’ll stretch out on that bunk you just vacated.  He’s doing okay so far, but I don’t want that wound to start bleeding again,” He warned.  Turning back to stare down at his son he said, “Joseph, settle back and let your brother explain everything to you, but I want you to be quiet, understood?”

Little Joe, his eyes reflecting his bewilderment and his mouth hanging wide open, nodded to his father.

Ben grinned to see the expression of pure awe on his son’s face.  He gently combed his fingers through Joe’s curly hair and then turned and walked over to the bunk so he could lie down for a little while.

“Cla — Clay,” Joe stuttered as his brother took a seat in the chair Pa had just come out of.  “Clay – I don’t understand.”

Smiling down at his brother, Clay patted his left arm and whispered, “It’s really me, Joe – I’m sorry for what I had to do.  I know it hurt you to think I died – but it couldn’t be helped.”

“But – why?  Why didn’t you tell me?  Clay – I thought I’d lost you forever!”

“Joseph!” Ben sang out from across the room, a warning in his tone of voice.

“You’d better be still or your Pa is going to come back over here and get after you,” Clay laughed.  “Now just ease back and I’ll tell you everything.”

Ben watched as his son settled back against his pillows.  When he was satisfied that he was going to stay put, he pulled up the blanket and closed his eyes.

“Joe – I was so afraid that you’d be killed if you stayed inside the house with me that I had to come up with some way to get you to leave.  I had already asked Rene to watch the place and if it looked like the mob was getting ready to do something I told him to take you off someplace where you’d be safe.  Once I witnessed the torches being lit, I knew that I had to get you out of the house before the place was set on fire.”

“But – how – how did you survive the fire?  I watched the torches land on top of the roof and then it spread like a tinderbox.”

Clay sighed and shook his head, “I’m still not exactly sure how it happened, Joe.  I told your father that I was getting ready to go up the staircase when the walls started crashing down around me.  That’s when I spotted a man who had somehow gotten inside and he was aiming a gun at me.  We fought and I wrestled the pistol from his hand when part of the roof came down and killed him.  The next minute I guess something fell on me too.  But Rene came back after he’d taken you into the woods.  He found me somehow and carried me down here to the cabin before going back to look after you.  Rene had to set my leg – it got busted somehow.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were still alive, Clay?  You shouldn’t have let me believe I had lost you!” Little Joe insisted with hurt very evident in his eyes and in his voice.

“Joe,” Clay paused and reached for his brother’s hand, taking it into his own.  “Little Brother, I knew you’d never leave here if you believed that I was alive.  You were so sick and I was worried you’d die if you stayed here.  You were already being pursued by some of those same men who had set the house on fire.  I thought that the only way you’d survive was if Rene helped get you to Atlanta and then on home to the Ponderosa.  All I cared about was you – nothing else mattered to me.”

Little Joe’s face was the picture of both hurt and confusion as he stared up at his brother.  “But – but Rene and I buried you and Annabelle – down at your oak tree.”

“The two of you buried Annabelle and the man who tried to kill me, Joe.  Rene found his body and we thought it best to bury him there, so you’d not try to look for me.  If you didn’t have a body to bury with Annabelle, I was worried that you’d think I was still alive.  I’m sorry – really, I am.  But I was out of my head with the fever and grieving over my loss.  I already said my goodbye to you in that letter I stuck inside your carpet bag.  I figured you’d eventually find it once you’d gotten home and were safe.”

“I found it,” Little Joe choked out as he remembered what Clay had written in his farewell letter.  Joe’s eyes clouded with the onslaught of tears as he stared over at his brother.  “Clay – it hurt – hurt me so bad to lose you.”

Clay leaned forward and carefully wrapped his arms around Little Joe, pulling him to his chest.  The two brothers wept in each other’s arms as they shared a moment together. They were swept up in the memories of the terrible past they had lived through during the yellow fever epidemic and the loss of Annabelle.

“Clay – oh, Clay — I’m so glad I didn’t lose you!” Joe sobbed.

“You’re never going to lose me, Brother,” Clay insisted as he slowly released Joe from his arms and eased back into the chair.

Using the palm of his left hand, Joe wiped away his tears and then said, “That man – the man who tried to kill you – who was he?”

Clay drew in a deep breath and replied, “It was Ezra Davenport – the man they’ve accused Rene of killing.  I don’t know why he was in the house or why he was going to shoot me, Joe.  After you had left for Atlanta, I saw his picture in the paper, and I realized the missing person they were looking for was the same man who you and Rene buried next to Annabelle.  I’d also found a ring with his initials on it there inside what was left of the house.  Not long ago Rene and I dug him back up and put him underneath the ruins of the plantation.  I never did like the fact that his body was buried next to Annabelle.”

“Why not tell the inspector – wouldn’t that clear Rene?”

“No, Joe – they might suspect him of killing Davenport regardless.  If Townsend thinks either of us are still around, he’s going to try and get one or both of us arrested to appease Davenport’s brother Charles.  I told your father that I’ve been wanting to book passage on a ship out of Savannah and take Rene with me.  I need to start over, Little Brother – this place has too many bad memories for me.”

“Why not come back to the Ponderosa with us?  Rene can come too!” Joe insisted hoping that he could talk his brother into going back home with them.

Clay dropped a hand down onto Joe’s shoulder and stared into the eyes that were pleading with him.  “Joe – I can’t – not now.  I need to start all over again – maybe somewhere in Europe.  I almost ended it all a time or two since the fire – but Rene stopped me.  I promised him that I would try to begin my life all over again.”

Little Joe stared down at the blanket that covered him, his eyes misting up again.  “I just found you — and now you’re telling me that I’m going to lose you again?” Joe asked, his voice breaking with sorrow.

Clay grabbed his brother’s hand and held onto it.  “Joe – you’re not going to lose me again.  I’ll stay in touch – I promise.  But I need to get away from everything for a while.  Don’t look so sad – I can’t bear it.”

Little Joe drew in a deep breath and tried his best to put on a brave front for his brother’s sake.  “Okay – at least you’re alive – so there’s always hope that you’ll someday come back to the Ponderosa, right?”

“Yeah, Joe – there’s always hope,” Clay nodded.  “Now – how about getting a little more sleep and we’ll talk again over some breakfast?”

Joe allowed his head to fall back against the pillow but didn’t release Clay’s hand right away.  “You’d better still be here when I wake up – no disappearing on me again.”

Clay chuckled as he stood from the chair.  “I’ll be here.  You rest now, Joe,” He offered his brother a reassuring smile and watched as the hazel eyes finally closed.

“Thank you, Clay,” Ben whispered as he nodded over at the man.  “You handled that well.”

Clay grinned and nodded over to Ben.  Then he pulled a blanket off the footboard of the bunk and sat down on the floor next to where his brother was sleeping.  He leaned back, resting his head on the mattress close to Joe’s and closed his eyes.

---

“Here you are,” Ben announced as he piled some fried ham and biscuits on the two plates there on the table.  “It’s not much but we didn’t have any eggs.”

“Pa’s being too modest – he’s a great cook when he wants to be,” Joe called from the bunk where he had been forced to stay ever since waking.  Leaning back against the pillows which were propped up behind him, Joe slowly sipped the coffee his father had set next to the bunk.

“Pah!” Rene nodded to the man as he dug into the food.

“I think Rene just agreed that your father is a good cook, Joe,” Clay smiled.

Ben grabbed his own plate and sat down at the table next to the other two men.  He thought about the current predicament as he stared over at Clay.  “After we eat it might be a good idea if we kept a watch out for Townsend and his men.  He showed up unannounced yesterday.  Of course, your brother made it a point to rile the man,” Ben paused and cast a displeased look over at his son who offered him a grin in response to what he had said.  “So, he might just come back again.”

“I can take care of that fool,” Joe sang out only to be met by his father’s stern countenance.

“Joe’s trying his best to get arrested,” Ben grumbled as he sipped his coffee.

Clay laughed and replied, “That’s my brother!”

“Hey – what are we gonna do – has anybody come up with a way that we can get out of this jam?” Little Joe asked.  He slowly pulled himself to the side of the bed.

“You stay put for now, Young Man!” Ben warned with a finger pointed directly over at his son.

Reluctantly Joe acquiesced and slid back against his pillows frowning.  “I’m fine.”

“I need to get your brother to a doctor today to have that wound looked at,” Ben ignored his son’s protests and stared at Clay.

“There’s one on River Street not far from my attorney’s office, Ben.”

Ben thought for a few quiet moments and then stared back over at his son who was acting far too obedient at the time.   He knew that it wouldn’t last long.  “I think I might just have a solution to some of this.”

“Yeah, Pa?  What is it?” Joe’s ears perked up after hearing what his father had offered.

“Well, we have the estate issue to contend with and more importantly a body that needs to get found.  Maybe we can handle both of those today if you like what I’ve come up with.”

Clay looked back over to Joe and then turned his attention on Ben.  “You think we should tell Townsend about Davenport’s body, Ben?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Ben offered a sly grin and returned, “Well – yes – in a way.”

Ben stood from the chair and walked over to his son.  “Joseph?  Where’s that locket of your mother’s that both you and your brother have a penchant for giving back and forth to each other?”

“Huh?” Joe questioned, wondering why his father would ask about it.  “It’s in my jacket, Pa – I didn’t go into the swamp with it this time.”

Ben walked over to where their bags had been stowed and searched until he’d come up with his son’s green jacket.  He pulled the locket out from the pocket and gathered a change of clothes for his son.

“I think you two boys could use your mother’s help in getting out of this situation,” Ben grinned as he held the locket in his hand.  “I’ll explain everything in a minute.” He paused and brought the clothes over to Joe.  “Here—you can get dressed but then ease back on that bunk, Joseph.  You lost a lot of blood last night and I had to lug you in here once due to you passing out – I don’t need to pick you up off the floor again today.”

Grinning, Joe nodded to his father as he accepted the change of clothes from him.  “Relax, Pa, I heal fast!”

Ben groaned and rolled his eyes at his son.  He then turned back to the table and continued with what he had been saying.  “Now as for this estate – Clay what do you want us to do about it?  Legally it’s yours you know?”

Just as his father had predicted, Joe couldn’t stay silent or on the bunk any longer.  He finished dressing and pulled himself up and walked over to the table holding his right arm against his chest.

“Jah!” Rene shouted and pointed back to the bunk, worried for his friend.

Little Joe set a calming hand on Rene’s shoulder and said, “I’m okay, Old Friend.”

“Joseph,” Ben warned narrowing his eyebrows.

“I’ll go sit down in a minute, Pa,” Joe insisted and then focused in on his brother.  “Clay, your attorney offered to help find a buyer for this place.  I don’t want any part of it or Mister Copeland’s money.  Tell me what to do.”

Clay stood from the table and dropped a hand down onto his brother’s left shoulder and stared into his troubled eyes.  “Joe – I don’t want anything to do with it either.  But you’ve just got to play along with this ruse.  I don’t want anyone to know that I’m alive – at least no one in Savannah.”

“So, what should I do about the plantation?”

Clay thought for a few minutes, pondering the situation in his head.  “Joe – there’s only one person who would take care of this place the way that I think Mister Copeland and Annabelle would have liked.”

“Who?”

“James – Doc that is.  He’d make sure that the main house would be rebuilt, and he’d also take care of that oak tree.  Get the deed from Milton and when you leave to go back home stop in Atlanta and give it to Doc for me.”

“But – is it gonna be legal?” Joe asked, shaking his head.

“The estate would have gone to me and I’m giving it to you to do with as you see fit,” He nodded to his brother.

Ben sighed as he stood from the table and drew closer to the two brothers, settling a hand onto both of their shoulders.  “Well, I guess that takes care of the estate problem.  Now all we have to do is square things with Townsend and find a way to get you aboard a ship.”

“Kah!” Rene sang out as he joined the other three men.

Clay smiled and patted the big man’s arm and returned, “It’s okay, Rene – you’re going with me – Ben knows that!”

Rene grinned as he looked over at Ben and said, “Pah!”

Joe’s laughter filled the cabin as he watched the smile spreading across his father’s face.  “I think he likes you, Pa.”

Ben turned and patted Rene on the shoulder and nodded, “I like him too!”

“Alright, tell us what we’re going to do about Townsend, Pa,” Joe said with anticipation in his voice.

Again, Ben held up Marie’s locket and grinned, “It’s about time that you found this locket—which has been under the ruins of that house, Joseph.”

The other three men had a quizzical appearance on their faces as they wondered what Ben was about to tell them.

---

Ben and Little Joe Cartwright walked into the courthouse and over to the front desk where a man stood looking through some paperwork.

“Excuse me,” Ben began and offered the man a welcoming smile.  “We were told that we’d find Inspector Townsend here.  Might we have a word with him?”

Staring over at the two strangers he replied, “Just who are you and what’s this about?”

Jacob Townsend walked down the hallway and came out from behind where the man was beginning to give the two Cartwrights the third degree trying to ascertain why they wanted to see him.

“It’s alright, Reynolds,” He called to the man at the desk.  “I know them.  If you’ll step into my office, Gentlemen?”

“Thank you,” Ben nodded to the inspector and nudged his son’s arm, reminding Joe with his stern gaze that he expected him to say exactly what they had rehearsed earlier and for him to behave himself.

Together the three men walked to a small room in the back and Townsend offered them both a chair.  Joe wasn’t surprised to see that the inspector had another visitor who was already seated across the room from them.  It was a middle-aged man who happened to be wearing a plaid coat and a brown derby.  He shot his father a peculiar grin and then looked back over to where the inspector was now seated behind his desk.

“Now – what can I help you with?” Townsend began, studying the faces staring pensively his way.

“I think it might be wise if we spoke in private,” Ben returned as he motioned to the man sitting across from them.

“Oh—where are my manners?” Townsend smiled graciously and pointed over at the man to his left.  “This is Charles Davenport.  He just happened to stop by to find out if I had any further information on his brother’s disappearance.”

“I bet he did,” Joe muttered underneath his breath only to get a slight jab to his side by his father’s elbow.

“This is Ben Cartwright – and his son Joseph,” Townsend made the introduction and Charles merely nodded over at the two men.

“Then – it’s alright to speak in front of him?” Ben continued, raising his eyebrows.  He’d already suspected that the man who sat opposite them had fired the bullet which had careened into his son’s shoulder the prior night.

“Yes, of course it is,” Townsend nodded.  “Joseph?  I see your arm is in a sling – did you have an accident?”

*** As if you don’t already know! *** Joe mused to himself before answering.  “Ah – no – in fact I was shot last night.  I just left the doctor’s office.”

“Oh – I’m sorry to hear that.  Have you come to make a police report regarding the incident?”

“No, I’ve come to clear some things up.  I pretty much know who shot me,” Joe returned, casting an accusatory gaze across the room.  He was fighting the urge to head over to Charles Davenport and punch him for shooting him and almost killing Rene.

“You have news about the missing person’s case?” Townsend asked.

“I do,” Joe nodded and stood from the chair, casting a quick glance down at his father who shot him another warning look.  “After you stopped by yesterday, I decided to go back to what remained of the plantation house where my brother was killed.  You see I’d given my brother Clay something very important to me.  It was our mother’s locket with her portrait inside.  It’s not very valuable — but to the two of us who lost her at such a young age it meant something to us that went far beyond anything monetary.”

“You had left it in your brother’s care?” Townsend questioned warily.

“Yes – but he was going to return it to me – that is –before a mob of arsonists torched the place and caused his death.”

“Go on,” Townsend nodded, sharing an uneasy glance with Davenport.

“I dug around the place for hours – almost until dark – but I found it,” Joe explained and pulled the locket from his pants pocket, holding it up in his hand.

Townsend reached for it and Joe reluctantly let him hold it for a few minutes to prove that he was telling the truth.

“I’m glad you found it – she was a lovely woman,” Townsend nodded, snapping the lid down and then returning the locket back to Joe.

“Yes, she was,” Little Joe paused and shared a meaningful glance with his father before turning back to the inspector.  “I found this and right before I was getting ready to go back to the cabin where we’ve been staying, I found something else.”

“What was that?”

“I found a body – or what was left of one,” Joe answered and paused again, to see how the story was being received by both men.

“A body?” Townsend asked, confused by the young man’s story.  “Where?”

“It was buried down deep underneath the rubble – not far from where I’d found the locket,” Joe paused and reached into his other pocket.  He pulled something out and handed it over to the inspector.  “The body still had that ring on one of its fingers,” Joe insisted.

Townsend knew the family crest on the ring because Ezra’s brother Charles was sitting there with one just like it but with his own initials.  “Where is the body now?”

“I left it where I found it – but I covered it up with a blanket out of respect for the dead,” Joe answered, fighting back his anger at the dead man who had tried to kill Clay.

Charles stood and took the ring from the inspector and then stared at Joe.  “This is my brother’s.” He announced frowning.

“I guess that solves the missing person’s case now,” Townsend sighed.

“Not quite,” Ben insisted sternly, as he arose from his chair.  “Joseph – tell Inspector Townsend what happened yesterday once you left the ruins of the plantation house.”

Joe nodded and turned back to stare down at Townsend.  “I was walking back to the cabin when I spotted my friend Rene.  He was in rough shape from having to hide for so many months.  I talked with him – he could say a few words and the rest I figured out by the responses he gave me to my questions. I told you – Inspector – that man was far from being retarded!   Maybe he was a little bit different — but he was a far better man than most that I’ve encountered here in the South,” Joe said, glaring at both the inspector and Charles. “Rene wanted to turn himself in.  He was very frightened because he was sure someone was running around trying to kill him,” Joe paused again and stared directly over at the man wearing the brown derby who dropped his head down a bit in response to the boy’s story.  “Anyway, I told him that I’d get him safely to you, Inspector.  I told him to meet me in that old oak grove where he’d hidden me last year and I’d bring him here to see you.”

Townsend studied both Ben and Joe’s faces wondering what they were about to reveal to him.

“Go on, Joseph,” Townsend nodded to the young man.

“I got to that oak grove to meet him just when it turned dark – like we had planned.  I figured that we stood a better chance coming here at night so nobody would try to kill Rene.  I was wrong.  Someone was already waiting for us in that oak grove.  Rene heard them and he began to drag me to the swamp – where he figured it would be safe.  But it wasn’t.”

“Is that how you got hurt?” Townsend inquired as he cast a suspicious glance over at Charles.

“Yes— someone followed us to the tree line not far from the swamp.  I got shot first—and then Rene was hit.  He fell forward into the swamp,” Joe paused and pushed aside some tears.

Ben had to fight off a smile to see his son going into one of the best acting performances of his life.  Joe had honed his skills well over the years, he thought.  But then again, he figured that his son had endured such a terrifying ordeal after being shot the previous night and ending up in the swamp full of alligators, that it wasn’t too hard for him to produce tears from his eyes.

“I tried to save him – but he was bleeding so badly – and Rene was just too big for me to carry!  I tried to pull him out of the swamp but that’s when the alligators came!  I couldn’t get a good hold on him – and two of them clamped down on Rene and dragged him away, finally pulling him underneath the water.  It wasn’t long before there wasn’t anything left of him.”

Ben set a calming hand on his son’s shoulder and whispered, “It’s alright, Son – it wasn’t your fault.  You did the best that you could to try and save Rene, Joseph.”

“He was my friend, Pa!  And he was innocent!” Joe replied angrily and then stared over at Charles.  “He was going to turn himself in even though he had nothing to do with the death of Ezra Davenport!  Rene was with me the entire night that the plantation house burnt down – he couldn’t have done anything to that man.  Somebody took the law into their own hands – just like they did the night that they killed my brother!”

Inspector Townsend fell back into his chair, lifting a hand up to his mouth as he processed what Joe Cartwright had just told him.  “I’m sorry that your friend was killed, Joseph,” He offered.

“Sorry doesn’t bring Rene back.  Or here in Savannah is it okay to gun down an innocent man?”

“No – it’s not – but there’s little that I can do about it now.  I’ve no way of knowing who shot Rene,” Townsend replied.

Joe’s eyebrows narrowed and he cast a piercing look over at Charles.  “I got a glimpse of the man who shot us – it was someone wearing a plaid coat and a brown derby.”

Townsend coughed nervously when he spotted the coat and hat that Charles was now wearing.  It matched Joe’s description perfectly.

“I hope you’re not suggesting that I had anything to do with that shooting?”  Charles piped up indignantly, feigning innocence.

“Why of course not,” Ben answered drolly, glaring scathingly over at the man.  “It must be purely coincidental that you’re wearing the exact same outfit that my son told me that the man who shot him wore.  I had to fetch my boy out of that swamp.  What with Joseph’s gunshot wound and all the blood that was pouring from it — we barely made it out of there alive due to some of those same alligators that got a hold of Rene!”

“Yeah – and all because of Ezra Davenport – who caused this whole investigation into his disappearance,” Joe paused and stared menacingly at Charles.  “It never would’ve happened if he hadn’t been one of the men who torched my brother Clay’s house and killed him!  Ezra Davenport died because he must’ve gotten too close to that fire.  So – two innocent men are dead now, my brother and my friend – and nothing’s ever going to bring them back!  I think it’s easy to figure out who shot both Rene and me – and they’re responsible for his death.  That’s no missing person’s case either.”

Inspector Townsend rose from his desk and frowned over at Joe.  He could read the pain and sorrow on the young man’s face, and he knew that it was warranted.  Townsend knew that Joe had lost his brother and his friend and furthermore he’d been shot, most likely by the man who sat opposite from him now.  “Do you want to press charges, Joseph?”

Little Joe let out a short ironic laugh and answered, “No – because I’ve learned that justice in Savannah is just a word you people use.   It doesn’t mean a damn thing.  My father and I are leaving to go back to Nevada tomorrow – and I hope that I never have to see this place again.”

Townsend shook his head and replied, “I hope that you both will have a pleasant trip back to your ranch.  Thank you for all your help.  At least Mister Davenport here will be able to bury his brother in peace now.”

“Good day,” Ben nodded to the inspector, offering one final woeful glance over at the man who had shot his son, he turned out of the office with Joe at his side.

---

The two Cartwrights walked out onto East Bay Street where they had left their carriage.  Ben witnessed the slow burn on his son’s face, and he knew that the boy wanted to go after Charles Davenport for shooting him and for pursuing Rene for months.  He draped an arm across the boy’s shoulder and remarked, “I’m proud of you, Joseph.  You gave a brilliant performance.  Your story sounded very believable – I could tell that Inspector Townsend was satisfied and has closed the case.  But best of all — you didn’t get yourself arrested!”

Little Joe offered his father a wry smile.  He knew why Pa had said what he had, because Joe was never any good at hiding his anger, something his father was keenly aware of.  “Yeah – but I came close, Pa.  I wanted to slug Davenport good for that bullet he put into me – not to mention making you go out into that swamp last night to rescue me.”

“I know,” Ben nodded.  “But it’s best that you left it alone.  Now we can get your brother and Rene out of town safely.  Let’s be on our way,” He announced with a quick pat to his son’s back.

---

Clay peered out the one window inside the caretaker’s cabin as the carriage pulled up in front.  He was relieved to see both Ben and Joe had made it back and without Inspector Townsend tagging along behind them.  Both he and Rene walked to the front door to welcome them back.

“Nobody followed you?” Clay asked as first Ben and then Little Joe walked inside.

Joe grinned over at his brother and answered, “No – and I don’t think you’ve got to worry about that happening now.”

Ben nodded over to Clay and Rene as he closed the door.  “Yes, thanks to your brother here and his well-honed knack for stretching the truth – I doubt we’ll see the good inspector ever again.”

Rene pointed to Joe’s arm and there was a question in his voice, “Jah?”

Joe patted the big man’s shoulder and quipped, “Oh – my shoulder’s fine, Rene.  My Pa is an excellent surgeon.”

Ben sighed as he shook his head, “Yes—Joseph is just fine.  The doctor had to put about a dozen stitches in his shoulder, and he’ll have to keep that sling on for six weeks.”

“Oh, Pa – you know I’ve had a lot worse,” Joe chuckled as he walked over to the table.

“Isn’t that the truth,” Ben groaned as he took a seat at the table and tried to catch his breath.

“So?  What now, Ben?” Clay asked as he stood next to Joe.

“Well, you and Rene need to pack up whatever you both want to take with you on the ship that sails tonight around ten,” Ben announced and noticed the surprised glances that passed between the two men.

“You found us a ship?” Clay questioned, very surprised to hear the news.

Little Joe walked behind his father and dropped a hand down onto his shoulder.  “Oh, you know my pa, Clay, he knows every captain who has ever sailed the seven seas– no matter the port!”

Ben shook his head and grinned upon hearing what the boy had just said, “Though I appreciate you thinking that your father is that well known, it’s not necessarily true, Joseph.  I’ve not been aboard a ship in many years – so not that many sailors would remember that long ago sea captain named Ben Cartwright.  However, I was lucky enough to spot Phineas McGrew’s boy, Jonathan.  His father was my first mate for many years – we sailed out of Portsmouth back when I was much younger.  And his son is now the captain aboard the Savannah Sovereign.  Joseph and I were on our way to the doctor’s office on River Street when I spotted Jonathan coming out of the Oyster Bar.  He remembered me and after I told him about our situation, he promised to get you and Rene aboard a skiff that’ll take you both to the Sovereign.  It’ll be waiting for you next to the pier just down from the south end of River Street at ten o’clock tonight.”

Clay broke into a big smile and patted Rene’s arm fondly.  “That’s great news, Sir.  What do you think, Rene?  You ready to see what the Atlantic Ocean looks like far away from Savannah?”

“Pah!” Rene sang out and dropped a grateful hand onto Ben’s arm.  The man was obviously happy to hear the news of their departure after he’d been on the run for so long.

Little Joe’s laughter filled the room as he witnessed the pure joy on his friend’s face.  “No, Rene, Pa can’t go with you and Clay – I need him to help get me back home,” He teased.

Rene reached over and grabbed Joe’s left arm and stared up at him.  He almost looked as though he was going to cry at the prospect of saying goodbye to the boy once again.

“It’s okay, Old Friend – we’ll see each other again,” Joe nodded to the big man.  “Besides I need you to take care of my brother.”

Rene nodded and stared at Clay and said, “Kah.”

“That’s right – the two of us, Rene,” Clay returned.  He focused his attention back to Ben and asked, “What happened with Townsend?”

“I think you and Rene will be just fine now,” Ben nodded.  “Like I said – your brother told the man exactly what we’d rehearsed.  I think both Townsend and Charles Davenport will be coming back to the plantation later today to recover Ezra’s body.  There’s nothing to worry about now — that case is closed.  Let’s all pack up so we can get on up the road before they arrive.  Joseph and I will check back in to the Pulaski House while you and Rene take off on the two saddle horses.  We’ll meet up on River Street later tonight.”

“Pa?” Joe interrupted, casting a quick glance over at his brother.  “Is it okay if Clay and I go outside for a few minutes?  We won’t be long.”

Ben stared over at his son.  He could already read the sadness on the boy’s face, and he knew Joe would soon be saying another goodbye to his brother, something that wouldn’t be easy for him to do.  “That’ll be fine, Joseph, Rene and I will start getting our gear ready.  You both go ahead.”

Clay opened the door for his brother as the two of them made their way out onto the porch.

Slinging an arm across Joe’s shoulder Clay said, “No sad goodbyes, Joe.  Besides we’ll see each other later tonight.”

Nodding, Little Joe fought back the tears which were already pooling inside his eyes.  He cleared his throat and returned, “I still hate that you’re leaving, Clay.  I wish you could come back to the ranch with Pa and me.”

“Maybe someday, Brother – but not right now.  I’ve got to get away from everything for a little while.”

Clay began to cough and Joe’s face filled with worry over his brother’s health.  “Let me get you something to drink!” He insisted.

Waving away his brother’s concern, Clay pulled a handkerchief out from his coat and whispered, “No – Brother – I’m fine now.  That sea air will help clear up this cough in no time.”

Not convinced by his brother’s performance, Joe hurriedly turned into the cabin, coming back with a cup of water.  He handed it to his brother and made sure that he polished it off.

“You worry too much, Brother,” Clay chuckled and placed the empty cup on the small table on the porch.  I’m going to be just fine, Joe,” he reassured the boy.

“Yeah — well — we both worry about each other,” Joe said with a quick nod to his head and then reached inside his coat.  He pulled out an official looking document and showed it to his brother.  “I’ll hold onto this deed to the plantation that Milton gave me – and I’ll give it to Doc for you when we get to Atlanta.”

“Listen — when you give that deed to Doc give him this letter from me too –it’ll explain everything.  He’s the only other soul who’ll know that I’m still alive — other than your family of course,” Clay nodded to his brother and handed him a letter.  “I also let him know that Rene is safe.”

Little Joe tucked both the deed and Clay’s letter inside his jacket and nodded, “Okay.  Now – here.  This is the money that Mister Copeland left for you.  There’s over ten thousand dollars inside.  You need to take it.”  He pulled a large envelope out from his other pocket and handed it to his brother.

Clay held up his hand, waving the envelope away.  Joe forcefully pushed it into his brother’s hand and insisted firmly, “No – now you know as well as I do that Annabelle would want you to have it – and so would her father.  They loved you, Clay – and they’d want you to use it to start over again.”

Frowning, Clay closed his eyes at the mere mention of his wife.  “Money really doesn’t mean anything to me, Joe.”

Little Joe hugged his brother and whispered, “I know it doesn’t – but use it to build a new life for yourself – and take care of Rene with it.  That’s what Annabelle would have wanted you to do.”

Giving up on trying to talk his brother into keeping the money, Clay stuffed it inside the pocket of his coat.  “Alright, Joe,” he relented with a heavy-hearted sigh.

His face taking on a perplexed appearance, Little Joe stared at his brother and said, “There’s one thing I’ve been thinking about all day – and I can’t figure it out.  It’s got me flummoxed.”

“What’s that, Brother?”

“The night when Rene and I buried Annabelle and that man down at your oak tree,” Joe paused and stared pensively into his brother’s eyes.

“What about it?”

“We were walking away – but I happened to turn back for just a couple of seconds – and I could’ve sworn that I saw both you and Annabelle standing there.  I even told my Pa about it when I got back home.  But now it just doesn’t make any sense.  Back then I thought that maybe I’d seen your spirits – but now I guess I must’ve imagined the whole thing, huh?”

Clay wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulder, pulling him close before responding to what he’d just told him.  His eyes misting with tears, he replied, “No – Joe – I don’t think you imagined it – not the way you think.  I watched you and Rene – I had to be there – because of Annabelle.  But I was in rough shape.  Not only was I sick with the fever, but Rene had just set my leg while you were sleeping out in that oak grove where he hid you.  I told Rene to get you away from our oak tree just as soon as you said that prayer over the grave.  But I guess you turned around just when I came out from behind the tree.  You did see me—and as for Annabelle – I’d felt her there myself.  Though I never saw her – maybe her spirit made an appearance to you.  She loved you too, you know?”

“I know,” Joe nodded as he pushed away the tears which had begun to roll down his cheeks.  “That tree – where we all carved our initials – I’ll never forget it – or her.”

Clay patted his brother’s shoulder and said, “I’m sure that Doc will take good care of it—and this place.”

Ben walked out onto the porch; his arms loaded down with the luggage.  “I hate to interrupt the two of you – but we’d all best be going before we have company.”

Both Clay and Joe brushed aside their tears and walked into the cabin so they could help Ben load the carriage and get ready to leave the plantation.

Little more than a half an hour after they had begun to pack up their belongings, Ben and Joe stepped into the carriage and looked over at Clay and Rene.

“We’ll go check back into the Pulaski House for the night and then get our tickets for the train leaving Savannah tomorrow.  Meanwhile the two of you get whatever you want to take with you.  I doubt anyone’s looking for Rene now but just watch yourselves.  When you get back to the city, find a safe place to leave those two saddle horses and Joe and I will take them back to the livery in the morning.  You both be careful and we’ll meet you at the dock at the end of River Street around nine thirty,” Ben said as he loosened the reins off the footboard.

“We’ll be there.  Thanks, Ben,” Clay nodded as he and Rene prepared to mount up.

“See you soon,” Joe waved to his brother and Rene as Pa sent the carriage into motion.

---

Ben and Little Joe stood on the south end of River Street and waited close to the pier for both Clay and Rene to appear.  At Joe’s insistence, they both wore their long coats with the faithful Savages hidden away in the leather pouches sewn into the lining.  He wasn’t taking any chances, and neither was his father.  Their time in Savannah had proven that anything could happen.  Little Joe’s heart was in his throat as he wondered how he could ever say goodbye to his brother.  Ben could see how the boy was standing there fighting to hold his emotions in check.

Dropping an arm across Little Joe’s shoulder Ben tried to find the right words that he could offer to make the boy feel better about what was about to happen.  He whispered, “Joseph, this isn’t really goodbye, you know?  You’ll see Clay again – I’m sure of it.”

Joe dropped his head down and sighed, he knew that his father was right and yet his heart felt as though it was breaking from the thought that it might be a long time before he’d ever be reunited with his brother.  “I know, Pa – but I just found him again.”

“Just two days ago you thought he was dead, Son,” Ben reminded him.  “Like Clay told you – there’s always hope.”

Before he could respond, Joe spotted a shadow coming towards them and relying solely on pure instinct, he hurriedly pulled his father into an alleyway with him.

“Joseph,” Ben groaned and loosened his son’s grip on his arm.  “Relax, it’s them.”

Sighing over the fact that his nerves were still raw due to all that had transpired in Savannah, Joe eased back out onto the cobblestone walkway to see both Clay and Rene heading their way.

“Did you have any trouble?” Ben asked as he shook the two outstretched hands.

“No, Sir – and we didn’t see Townsend or Davenport when we left the plantation,” Clay nodded.

“Good,” Ben stared down at the two duffle bags that Clay and Rene dropped next to their feet.

“I just don’t know what to say, Ben – there aren’t enough words to tell you how much we appreciate all you’ve done for us.”

Settling a hand onto Clay’s arm, Ben stared into his eyes and replied, “Clay – there’s something I need to say to you.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“You’re Marie’s boy – and that makes you my son too.  You always have a home waiting for you – whenever you want it.  You take care of yourself,” Ben pulled Clay into a quick embrace.

Clay’s eyes filled with tears, and he choked up due to what the man had just told him.  “Thank you, Sir.”

“Now, Rene — ,” Ben began, pulling himself back and looking at the big man.  He clapped a hand on Rene’s back and continued, “You have a home too – if you ever need one, Rene.”

“Pah!” Rene said and wrapped an arm around the man.

Joe knew that it was time for him to say his goodbyes and he dreaded it.  He drew in a deep breath and moved next to his brother.  “Come here for a minute, will you?” He directed his brother off to the side so he could talk to him privately.

“Now don’t go making me cry, Brother,” Clay insisted as he was already getting emotional just thinking about leaving Joe standing on the dock as they rowed away.

“Here,” Little Joe said, and reached inside his coat.  He pulled out a locket.  “This is for you.”

“No, Joe – I don’t want our mother’s locket—not this time,” Clay protested.

Joe pulled his brother closer to the nearby streetlamp.  “It’s not Ma’s.  The first day Pa and I got to town we went out to buy these coats – and well, we passed by the place where we had those pictures taken last summer.  I spoke with the owner who remembered me – and you.  It just so happens he still had the plates he used for the pictures that you and Annabelle had made for your wedding.  I wanted a picture — to remember how happy the two of you were on your wedding day.  When Pa and I got back here this afternoon, we had him make it into the size that would fit in this locket.  I have the picture of you and me hanging back at the ranch.  This was meant for you – Pa and I wanted you to have it.”

Clay opened the locket and saw the smiling face of Annabelle standing next to him.  He couldn’t hide his tears any longer.  Joe stood there and waited, he knew how much the gift would mean to his brother.

“It’s alright, Clay,” Joe whispered and wrapped his arms around Clay, pulling him close.

Swiping a hand across his face, Clay choked out, “Joe – this means more to me than anything anyone could ever give me.  Thank you, Brother.”

Joe looked at his brother with tears rolling down his cheeks.  “Promise that you’ll let me know how you’re doing?”

“I promise,” Clay nodded and hugged his brother one last time before turning back around and heading over to Ben and Rene.  “Thank you, Ben – this locket means the world to me.”

“Glad you like it,” Ben smiled and patted Clay’s shoulder.  “You know I was watching the two of you boys a few minutes ago and I thought about your mother.  She sure would’ve loved to see her sons together like this – who knows – maybe she still can?”

“I’d like to think that she can, Ben,” Clay nodded and looked over at his brother who nodded as well.

“Rene – we didn’t forget about you,” Joe said and mopped his eyes with the sleeve of his coat before looking up at the big man.  He reached inside the bag he had brought with him.  “My Pa and I went to a bookstore to see if they had something for you.  Here,” Joe said and handed the book to Rene who seemed puzzled by the gift.  He had never learned to read and felt a bit self-conscious about it.

Ben noticed Rene’s confusion and piped up.  “It’s a book that has pictures in it and very few words, which Clay will explain to you, Rene.  It’s so you can learn to speak with your hands if you’d like.”

“That’s right,” Joe nodded and smiled at his friend.  “When you’re out at sea and you get bored – well – we thought you might like to learn sign language to pass the time.”

Rene finally understood the meaning behind the gift they had given him.  He wrapped a large arm around Little Joe, pulling him to his chest.  “Jah!”

“I’ll miss you too, Old Friend,” Joe whispered and returned the man’s hug.  “Now – I want you to take care of yourself – and take care of my brother for me, okay?”

“Kah,” Rene said and nodded.  He finally released Joe from his embrace and looked at Ben.  “Pah!” He called and wrapped an arm around Ben, pulling him into a hug as well.

Ben smiled as he stared up at the hulking figure who had him locked tightly in his embrace, “Rene – thank you for saving Joseph last summer – and for all you’ve done to keep Clay safe.  Now you take care of yourself.”

Clay spotted a lantern being waved down at the waterline at the far end of the pier.  “Unfortunately, it looks like we’ve got to get to that skiff now.”

Little Joe moved over to his brother and stared into his eyes.  The next minute he felt Clay’s arms around him pulling him to his chest.

“I love you, Brother,” Clay whispered.

“I love you too, Clay,” Joe choked out.  “Please take care of yourself – and write me so I’ll know that you’re doing alright.”

“I promise,” Clay nodded and reluctantly pulled himself away from his brother.   “Goodbye for now – Joe – Ben,” he said, forcing a smile for them to remember him by.  He lifted his duffle off the cobblestone walkway.

“Be happy, Son,” Ben said, fighting his own tears.  “You take care, Rene.”

“Jah – Pah,” Rene nodded and turned with Clay towards the pier.

---

Ben and Little Joe stood side by side as they watched both men walk to the end of the pier and climb down the ladder where a skiff was waiting to take them across to the Savannah Sovereign which was anchored out in the middle of the river.  They watched from the dock without speaking as the tiny light in the skiff bobbed one final time, pulling alongside the towering Sovereign, and then went dark.  Both Clay and Rene were gone from sight, swallowed by the shadow of the hulking ship.

“Well, Son,” Ben coughed into his fist to release the heavy emotion in his voice before continuing.  “They’re safely on their way now.”

Little Joe couldn’t speak; his heart was too heavy over having to say goodbye to his brother again.  It felt as though that was all he had done ever since they had been reunited with each other three years ago and it just plain hurt.

Witnessing the very evident sorrow on his son’s face, Ben wrapped an arm around Joe’s waist and said, “How about we take our final walk around Savannah?  It’s a nice night for one.”

Joe simply nodded, he knew that words weren’t needed.  Pa understood; he always had.  He drew in a deep breath and then turned with his father as they slowly made their way down River Street.

“I never asked Clay where he left the horses,” Joe muttered as they crossed over to Bay Street on their way in the direction of the hotel.

Ben chuckled and replied, “Oh, when you and Rene were saying your goodbyes – he told me where they are.  You and your brother are cut from the same cloth, Joseph!”

“Huh?” Joe finally looked up at his father, wondering what the big secret was.

Ben ruffled a hand through his son’s curly hair and announced, “He left those darn nags tied up at that haunted cemetery of yours and now we’ve got to go fetch them!”

Little Joe grinned and nodded over to his father.  “Well, at least I won’t have to go there alone this time, Pa.  Even if it’s haunted it’s a whole lot safer than where we ended up last night.”

“Oh?  You mean when you got shot and made me go wading out in that swamp with those alligators, Joseph?”  Ben teased.

“Yeah, I got shot – but just remember — I didn’t get arrested, Pa,” Joe quipped.  He was glad to have the light-hearted banter temporarily take his mind off his brother leaving to begin a new life.

Ben patted his son’s one good shoulder and replied sternly, “The night’s not over yet.”

Father and son walked down Bull Street and then over to the Old Brick Cemetery to retrieve the horses oblivious to the fact that it might be haunted.  After what they had already experienced that week ghosts would seem tame in comparison.

---

Ben crossed the parlor of the suite to say goodnight to his son.  The boy hadn’t said much once they had found the two saddle horses and brought them back to the stable next to the hotel.  Both men had taken a bath and changed into their night clothes after having a late supper brought up to their suite.  Afterwards, Joe had called a very subdued “goodnight, Pa” but hadn’t made another sound.

“Joseph?” Ben called quietly as he walked into his son’s room.   He gently eased down on the bed next to him.  “I imagine you feel better after that good long soak in the tub.  I know that I do.  It was nice to get the feel and smell of that swamp off me.”

Little Joe seemed a bit preoccupied, but he finally looked up and replied, “Yeah, Pa – it felt good to get cleaned up after being in that alligator infested water last night.  I wish I didn’t have to keep this darn sling on my arm though.”

“No complaining about keeping your arm inside of that for now – you’ve got quite a few stitches in you and the last thing we need is for them to pull out on our trip home, Young Man.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he frowned and tried to get comfortable on the bed.  The wound in his shoulder was smarting quite a bit, but he hadn’t wanted to worry his father about it, or Pa would’ve insisted that they stay in Savannah a few more days.  Now that Clay was gone, Little Joe was done with the South and just wanted to go home without any further delay.

Ben could tell that his son’s wound was hurting him, though the boy was trying his best to pretend that he was just fine.  He reached over and adjusted the pillows behind Joe and gently eased him back against them.  “There – now that’s better,” Ben smiled as he watched his son leaning back looking a bit more relaxed.

Amused over the way his father always fussed over him when he was hurt, Little Joe nodded to him gratefully and said, “thanks, Pa.”  He adjusted his sling so that it rested across his chest and let out a tired sigh.

“Joseph, that was a nice gesture that you made for William.  He sure was surprised when we both gave him two silver dollars when he took our dinner trays away.”

Little Joe nodded and replied, “I wish I could do more for him than just give him money, Pa.  I sure hope that kid will grow up to have a better life – he deserves it.  William is a hard worker – hopefully someday things will straighten out in the South, and he’ll be treated no differently than any other man.”

Ben sighed and returned, “I hope so too, Son.  Hey – what do you have there?” Ben pointed to the letter his son had just dropped down on his lap.

Finally looking over at his father, Joe replied, “Clay – he did it to me again, Pa!  I found this stashed in the carpet bag over there.  Joe pointed to the bag on the floor next to the doorway.  “I was packing up the two Savages for the trip home and I found this inside.  I guess Clay stuffed it in there while you and I were busy loading the carriage this afternoon.”  Joe handed the letter to his father.

“Mind if I read it?” Ben asked.

“Go ahead, Pa, it was meant for the two of us anyhow,” Joe nodded.

*** Dear Joe, this isn’t going to be a long, sad goodbye like my last letter was.  Because I’m still alive and like I told you, there’s always hope.  And I hope to find a new life waiting for me somewhere.  But that doesn’t mean that you won’t always be a part of it.  You’re my brother and you will always be my family.  And I promised you that I would let you know how I’m doing and I’ll keep that promise.  I’ll also let you know how Rene is getting along.  I wish that we had more time, but I cherish every single minute that we were together, and I have faith in my heart that someday we will see each other again.  I want you and your father to have a safe trip home.  Be sure to give my best to Adam and Hoss and of course Hop Sing.  I know due to what happened to all of us in Savannah, it’s hard to think kindly about the place.  But I want you to remember that it wasn’t Savannah that caused any of our troubles – it was just some of the people who live there.  Don’t hate the place, Joe, because Annabelle was born there and she was the best thing to ever happen to me.  Finding her gave my life meaning – just like finding you after so many years of being alone brought me the family that I’d always yearned for.  Please let your father know how much I admire him.  I was lucky to get to know him a little bit better the past couple of days and now I understand why our mother loved him.  He’s a wonderful man so don’t give him any trouble traveling back to the Ponderosa, you hear?  You take care of yourself, Brother, and once I have put down some roots, I’ll let you know so you can write to me too.  Well, your father is hollering that we need to get moving so I’ll close for now.  Don’t worry about me, okay?  It’s taken awhile but now I know that despite what tragedies I’ve had in my life, I’m still blessed, because in this life I was loved by you. Love Always, Your Brother. ***

Ben carefully folded the letter and handed it back to his son who was sitting there against the headboard fighting the tears which were leaving his eyes.

“Well – in this letter your brother mentioned three very important things, Joseph.  Those are faith, hope and love.  And I believe that they’re the secret to starting your life all over again.  I think Clay’s going to be okay,” he reassured his son.

Joe swiped the left sleeve of his nightshirt across his face to blot his tears and then reached across the bed for the envelope that had held the letter.  “I think so too, Pa.  Oh – Clay put this inside with the letter.  It’s for you, Pa,” Joe handed it over to his father.

Reaching inside the envelope, Ben pulled out a small note and a wad of cash that was attached to it.  “What’s this?” He asked confused.  *** Dear Ben, this isn’t from me it’s from Mister Copeland.  It’s just enough to pay for your expenses for the trip.  He’d want you to have it with his compliments.  Thanks for everything, love Clay. ***

Ben handed the money back to Joe.

“There’s about five hundred dollars here, Pa,” Joe announced and handed it back to his father.

Grinning, Ben stuffed the money back inside the envelope and replied, “That was awfully nice of your brother – oh — and Mister Copeland too.”

Joe nodded and winked over to his father, “I guess we can order room service one more time in the morning before we leave.”

Ben chuckled, “Yes, I guess so.  Well, there’s enough here to pay our expenses for this trip – plus we can leave William a nice little surprise too.  I’ll give him an envelope from the two of us before we leave.  He told me that he wants to be one of the first black doctors in Georgia.  Maybe we can help him a little bit with some tuition money should that day ever come?”

“That’s perfect,” Joe agreed and watched as his father stood from the bed.

“Well, I think you should get some rest, Young Man.  The doctor said you need to take care of that shoulder, and we’ve got a long trip back to the Ponderosa.  I wired your brothers that we should be arriving home in about three weeks.”

“Home sounds awfully good, Pa,” Joe sighed as he slid down in the bed.  He was trying his best to forget about the awful things he’d gone through in Savannah and try to remember the place just like Clay and his father had said to do.

“Enjoy your last night in that magnificent bed, Joseph,” Ben grinned as he bent down and kissed his son’s forehead.  “Goodnight, Son.”

“Goodnight, Pa – and thanks for everything you did for my brother and for Rene.”

Ben winked over to his son and said, “Thank you too, Joseph.”

“Huh?  What are you thanking me for?”

“Well, though it’s true that you got shot –just like I said you would – however, you didn’t get arrested.  And what with that temper of yours — I’d say that was a miracle!”  he nodded with a wry smile on his lips.

Joe grinned over at what his father had said.   “Pa, don’t be too quick to congratulate me about that — we haven’t made it back home yet.  Anything’s possible!”

Groaning, Ben walked to the doorway and returned sternly, “That’s just fine, Joseph – you go ahead and get yourself into some more trouble before that train pulls out of here tomorrow.  But if you end up back in that swamp, you’ll have to contend with those alligators all by yourself.  I’m going to bed!”

“I won’t get into any more trouble, Pa — and I never want to see another alligator as long as I live,” He returned and heard his father’s laughter as and he walked out into the parlor.

Pulling the covers up around his shoulders, Joe sighed to himself and closed his eyes.  Though he was having a hard time trying to come to terms with the fact that his brother Clay was now sailing away from him, he had hope in his heart that they would someday be reunited.  He had faith that Clay would write to him, and he had the love that they shared to tide him over until then.  Pa had said that was all that anyone needed, and Joe knew that he was right.

---

The piercing, metallic shriek of the locomotive’s steam whistle shattered the late afternoon air at Atlanta’s Union Depot, signaling the immediate departure.  Ben and Little Joe had taken their seats and watched as the wave of people standing around waiting on other trains disappeared as the engine began to pick up speed and soon, they were heading north.

Ben pointed at the carpet bag sitting there at his son’s feet.  He smiled as he stared at Joe and said, “You still guarding those Savages, Son?  We’ve got over two thousand miles to go before we’re back in Carson City.”

Winking, Joe replied, “Never can be too careful, Pa.  You’ve heard of train robberies, haven’t you?”

Shifting nervously on the seat, Ben groaned and said, “Very funny.  All I want is a peaceful trip home.  After this past week it would be a nice change.”

Joe kicked the bag over to his left to allow for some room to stretch his legs.  “It’s too bad we couldn’t stay and talk with Doc longer.  I’d love to see his face when he opens that envelope and finds out Clay is alive and that he left him the plantation.”

Ben grinned and nodded to his son, “I’m just glad that Doctor Hardin could meet us before our train left.  I’m sure he’ll be both shocked and happy when he reads your brother’s letter.  I’m glad you were able to tell him that Rene made it out of town safely without giving away your brother’s surprise.  After what Doc said he read in the Savannah paper, he presumed that the big man was dead.”

“Yeah, Townsend really believed my story, and he sure made it a point to spread the news all over too.  Rene got the last laugh after he’d been running away from Davenport and his madmen for so many months,” Joe replied, his anger still apparent in his tone of voice.

Ben draped his arm across his son’s shoulder, “It all worked out – and that’s all that matters now, Joseph.”

Directing his attention down at the bag which held the two Savages, Joe grinned and remarked, “I wish I’d gotten the chance to fire one of those, Pa.”

“Well, they won’t be much use back home – your Colt will serve you better than those fancy-triggered things!”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” Joe nodded and smiled over at his father.  “But they’ll be a great addition to your gun collection behind the desk in your study.”

“Oh?” Ben questioned, raising his eyebrows.  “You going to part with those things?  How much is it going to cost me this time?”

Joe patted his father’s arm with his left hand and returned, “No—I’m giving them to you, Pa – no charge.”

“You are?” Ben asked, surprised by what his son had said.  “But they cost you your entire life savings.”

Joe grinned, “Speaking of “life savings” —you saved my life by rescuing me from that swamp – I’d say you earned them, Pa.  I bet you never wanted to go down into that water after hearing what happened to me there last summer.”

Groaning, Ben shook his head.  “No – I didn’t – especially because of your ten-foot-long friends in there.  Of course, the ones that I saw that night looked more like twenty-footers!”

“At least,” Joe smiled knowingly.  “They get bigger every time you tell the story, Pa.”

Chuckling, Ben patted his son’s shoulder and leaned back against the seat.  “Might as well get comfortable, Joseph.  We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”

Little Joe watched as his father dipped his hat over his eyes and grew quiet.  He thought about the way he had felt heading down to Georgia and how he had believed Clay to be dead.  A wave of relief fell over him as he pulled his hat down over his eyes just as Pa had done and fell off to sleep.

---

Joe stood in the aisle of the coach car and craned his neck to look out of one of the windows.  He was beginning to get worried when his father hadn’t made it back inside and the train was about to pull out of the station.  They had just enough time to board due to the tight schedule and now he was growing anxious that Pa might not get back inside before the whistle sounded that they were pulling away from the station.

Ben finally appeared just a minute before the loud blast of the whistle broke the silence inside the train car and it lurched forward.

“Sorry – that telegraph office was a madhouse,” Ben explained as he fell into the seat next to his son.

“Don’t do that again, Pa – I was worried and almost got off to go look for you!”

Ben placed the bag of sandwiches onto the seat to his right and turned back around. He patted his son’s arm.  “I told you that I’d make it.  Now – how’s that shoulder of yours doing?”

Joe shook his head, “Pa – I don’t even think I need this stupid sling – I’m fine.”

“It stays put until we’re home and Doc Martin gets a chance to look at that wound of yours.  Now settle back.  We’re only a little more than a third of the way home.  Oh – I’ve got some news for you.  Remember how I just said that the telegrapher’s office was busy?”

“Yeah?”

Ben opened his coat and pulled out a copy of the St. Louis Democrat Newspaper.  “This is the reason why there were so many people waiting for wires from back east.  I guess we got out of Savannah in the nick of time.”  He handed it over to Joe.

“Sunday, April thirteenth, eighteen sixty-one.  Fort Sumter attacked,” Joe read the headline and stared over at his father.  “War, Pa?”

Ben nodded, his appearance turning suddenly grim. “I told you when we left that talk of succession has been going on for quite a while – this is only the start I’m afraid.”

Scanning the article, Little Joe looked up at his father again.  “Civil war – it’s going to be bad isn’t it, Pa?”

“I’m afraid it is, Son.  But – sometimes these things are needed – to fix some of a nation’s problems.”

“Do you think this means that slavery will finally be abolished?”

“In time, Joseph – in time,” Ben nodded and placed an arm around his son.

“I hope so – then maybe things will be different for William – and for others like him.”

Ben sighed, he knew that the country would be fractured and the cost would run steep in lives that would be lost.

“Best thing we can do now is to pray, Joseph – pray that it won’t last too long and that it all will be worth it in the end,” Ben added and leaned back in his seat.

“I’m glad that Clay and Rene got out in time too, Pa.’

“So am I, Joseph, — so am I,” he whispered and closed his eyes to offer a prayer for all of those who would be placed in the middle of the conflict.

---

Little Joe sat on the hearth of the large fireplace in the living room of the Ponderosa ranch house.  He didn’t know when he’d ever been happier to be home than he was that night.  The trip home had been a long one, but his heart was lighter in knowing that his brother Clay was alive and well and hopefully was well on his way to starting a happier chapter in his life.  As he stared over at Hoss and Adam, who were seated on the settee opposite him he realized just how much he had missed his brothers.  With Pa sitting in his red leather chair to the other side of him, Joe had told the story of how Clay had survived the fire at the plantation and what had happened to all four of them in Savannah earlier in the month.  To say that Adam and Hoss were shocked to hear about Clay’s sudden reappearance after he had been presumed dead would have been an understatement.  Both men sat quietly while their brother went to great lengths to explain every detail about what had transpired with one exception.  Though he had casually made the mention of having to wait in the swamp after he had been shot, Little Joe had simply winked over to his father and hadn’t said anything more about it.  Pa had earlier asked Joe to allow him to tell the part about the frightening appearance of the alligators which had gotten too close to them that night.

“That sure was one amazing story, Little Brother,” Hoss sighed after Joe had finally signaled that his story had reached its conclusion.

“It sure was, Kid,” Adam added and nodded over to Joe.  “I should’ve guessed that you’d somehow end up getting hurt – even with Pa there with you.”

“He’s just mad because he lost a dollar to me,” Hoss laughed over at Adam.
“A dollar?” Joe asked.  “Why?”

“Oh, I bet him that you’d get hurt somehow and when you showed up there on that train platform this afternoon, I made Adam pay up,” Hoss grinned.  “I caught sight of that sling of yours and made Adam give me the dollar before you or Pa even made it down the steps!”

“Don’t laugh, Hoss,” Adam returned, a satisfied grin taking over his face.  “I got that dollar right back, remember?”

Hoss frowned and shook his head over the fact he hadn’t held onto his winnings for more than a couple of minutes.

“How did your brother win his dollar back, Hoss?” Ben asked as he set his coffee cup on the table and stared over at his two older boys.

“Oh, Adam bet me that somehow Little Joe would make me carry his luggage.  I told him that there was no way that he could get me to do that.”

Little Joe winked over at Hoss and said, “Now – Hoss, you didn’t expect me to lift those heavy bags what with me being in a sling did you?”

“Go ahead and milk that shoulder wound as long as you can, Little Brother – I’ll put you to work just as soon as Doc says you’re all better,” Hoss warned.

Ben cleared his throat to bring the room to attention.  “Well, it was a lot better trip than either of us thought it would be – even with all your little brother’s drama.  Knowing that Clay is alive and well – and that he’s going to try to find a new life made the whole trip worthwhile.”

“Amen to that,” Adam nodded.

“Yeah – I guess you and that other brother of yours are a lot alike, Little Brother,” Hoss smiled.  “Both of you’ve got more lives than a cat!”

Little Joe laughed and set his coffee cup down next to his father’s and stared over at him.  “Pa?  You want to tell them about your harrowing experience now?” He asked.  A quick grin played on Joe’s lips while amusement danced in his eyes.  He figured that it was safe to relive their experience in the swamp now that they were landlocked in Nevada far away from Savannah.

Leaning forward in his chair, Ben nodded over to his son and replied, “So – your little brother here had been shot, and his friend Rene came to that cabin to get me.  And I hurried out to save the boy when — ,”  He was abruptly cut off in midsentence by his youngest.

“Hold on a second, Pa – before you start with that part of the story!  I’ll be right back.  Hey – Hoss come and help me, will you?” Little Joe called out insistently as he jumped from the hearth and made his way to the study.

Hoss stood and lumbered off to join his brother to see what the boy was up to now.

Joe motioned to the bottom of the bookcase to the right of Ben’s desk.  “Hoss,” he whispered, “Adam stashed some rotgut in there – I saw him do it before we left.  Go pull it out for me – I’ve only got one working arm right now.”

Hoss bent down and opened the cabinet door there at the bottom and pulled out a full bottle of whiskey.  *** Dang that kid sure has a good memory for these kinds of things! *** He thought to himself and smiled.

“Grab those four glasses next to Pa’s brandy – I’ll carry the rotgut,” Joe pointed to the table just to the right of his father’s desk.

Hoss handed the whiskey bottle over to his little brother while he grabbed the four glasses.  He had pretty much figured out why Joe had been so insistent on there being a need for some alcohol that night.  Soon they had both the glasses and the bottle of rotgut laid out on top of the coffee table.  Little Joe pulled the cork out of the bottle using his teeth and bent forward to fill each of the glasses.

It was at that moment when Hop Sing walked out from the kitchen to check on the family to see if they wanted more coffee before he retired for the night.  When he spotted Little Joe handing glasses to his father and both of his brothers, all brimming with whiskey, he stopped just behind Ben’s chair.

“What you do, Little Joe?” Hop Sing called over to the boy, his facial expression giving away his displeasure.

Joe spun around to look at the cook and replied, “It’s okay, Hop Sing, Pa needs it for this part of his story!”

Ben leaned forward in his chair and held up his glass.  “Here’s to a very interesting time in Savannah and to the miracle that we ever made it home in one piece!” He toasted his three boys.

“Not again!” Hop Sing exclaimed loudly.  He vividly remembered when Little Joe had returned from Savannah in the fall and how all four men had imbibed in far too much alcohol.  The boy had told his family about his time spent with alligators in the swamps of Georgia and they had all ended up with hangovers the next morning to the cook’s great chagrin.

Hop Sing shook his head, and just as he had said some five months earlier, he sounded out loudly in his own inimitable way, “Confucius say father with no sense make sons with no sense!”  He shot his chin up in the air indignantly and turned back for the kitchen.

“I’ve got a feeling that we’re not going to get served any breakfast tomorrow,” Adam laughed as he sipped his whiskey.

“That’s okay,” Little Joe winked.  “I doubt we’ll be in any condition to eat breakfast once we’re done listening to Pa’s story.  Go ahead and tell them.”   He cast a wry smile over to his father as he retook his position on the hearth.

Taking a good long sip of the rotgut, Ben began his tale.  “So, there I was wading out into the dark foreboding murky depths of that alligator infested swamp–”  He began and sent a quick wink over to his youngest.

Little Joe grinned to see his brothers beginning to lean forward on the settee in rapt attention as Pa continued his story and the length of the alligators in the swamp grew to epic proportions.  It was quite a tale and by the time that his father was done telling it, a full two hours later, there wasn’t one sober Cartwright inside the ranch house that night.

---

Epilogue

Little Joe Cartwright dismounted and tied Cochise’s reins up to a plum tree that was in full bloom.  He slowly walked up the well-worn path that led to his mother’s gravesite.  Removing his hat, he bent down and placed the handful of wildflowers next to the granite headstone and stood once again.  His thoughts fell back to the three times he’d been to his mother’s grave during the past year, and each time believing that his brother Clay was dead.

“I guess you knew all along that Clay was still alive,” Joe whispered as he looked at the grave before him and spoke to his mother as though she was still there with him.  “He’s starting a new life, Ma – one that will hopefully make him happy.  Clay’s been through so much – I can only pray that he’ll find whatever he’s searching for.”

Hearing bootsteps coming up the path, Little Joe turned to see his father standing there.  He watched as Pa came closer and placed an arm around his shoulder.

“You were awfully quiet this morning, Joseph,” Ben began as he tried to examine the boy’s face to see how he was really feeling.  “I’d thought you’d come here now that we’ve been home a few days.”

Nodding his head, Joe explained, “I just needed to talk to her, Pa.  I’ve been thinking about Clay – where he is – and if he’s doing okay.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Ben insisted, offering his son the comfort of his shoulder by pulling him closer to him.  “Your brother has been out at sea for almost a month now.  Maybe he’ll get to a port and send you word soon?”

“Yeah – I hope so,” Joe nodded.  “Guess I can get rid of this,” he said and bent down.  He pulled the weathered envelope off from where he’d set it next to Marie’s headstone more than a month ago and stood back up.

“Your mother would have been so happy to see her two boys together there in Savannah,” Ben smiled.  “Who knows?  Maybe he’ll come back to the Ponderosa someday?”

“Do you think so, Pa?”

Ben patted his son’s shoulder and nodded, “That’s where both faith and hope come in, Joseph.”

“You’re right,” Joe said and drew in a deep breath.

“I told you faith, hope and love – those are the only things you really need in life, Son.”

Little Joe closed his eyes and thought back to the letter that Clay had left for him in Savannah.  He had written those same three things that his father had just mentioned.  Joe thought about how his brother had closed his letter by writing the part that had meant the most to him.

*** It’s taken awhile but now I know that despite what tragedies I’ve had in my life, I’m still blessed, because in this life I was loved by you. ***

When Joe grew quiet again, Ben wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.   “Are you alright, Son?”

Drawing in a deep breath, Little Joe looked up at his father and forced a slight grin, attempting to ease his mind.  He decided to have some of that faith that Pa had just spoken about and would use it to believe that he would someday be reunited with Clay.

“Sure, I am, Pa.  Let’s go on home, okay?” he whispered, trying his best to push aside his constant thoughts about his brother’s safety and when he’d ever see him again.

Ben nodded and the two of them turned down the path heading towards the horses with no further words exchanged between them.

Though his son had made a valiant attempt to reassure him with that fake grin he had offered, Ben knew better.  His youngest boy had always been easy to read, especially when things were weighing heavily on his mind and in his heart.  Ben knew it would take Joseph a while to process what had happened on their trip and come to terms with never knowing exactly where his brother was or how he was faring with his search for a new life.  Hoping to lighten his son’s mood, he grinned over at the boy and asked, “Joseph – have I ever told you about the time that I waded out into the dark foreboding murky depths of an alligator infested swamp to rescue my son?”

“Oh – you mean that swamp with those twenty-foot-long alligators in it, Pa?” Little Joe played right along.

“No, you’re mistaken – they were at least twenty-five feet long, Joseph,” He corrected as they moved over to Buck and Cochise.  “Of course, you might not have been paying much attention – because they were a lot closer to me than they were to you.  And you were a bit out of your head at the time,” he said with a wink.

“Sure, Pa.  And the next time you tell that story those alligators will be a good thirty-five feet long and you’ll describe how you had to wrestle me out from one of their mouths!” Little Joe laughed as he swung into his saddle.

Ben grinned as he nodded over to his son.  After months of sorrow spent believing that his brother Clay was dead and now realizing that he was alive, it was gratifying to finally see Joseph wearing a genuine smile on his face and to hear that truly unique laughter again.  Everything was going to be okay, and Ben was certain that they would hear from Clay again; he had faith along with a good dose of hope, along with the love he’d always had for the boy riding there at his side.

“Let the world stop turning, let the sun stop burning, let them tell me love’s not worth going through.  If it all falls apart, I will know deep in my heart, the only dream that mattered had come true.  In this life I was loved by you.”

The End

Written by Wrangler

9-9-2026

(Dedicated to Rob the story consultant and someone who knows a lot about alligators of all sizes.  And to Rosalyn, because she had to read this lengthy tale as it came to life piece by piece and encouraged me every step of the way!)

***The character of Clay Stafford from “The First Born”, written for the Bonanza series by Judy and George W. George and Frank Cleaver. ***

*** The mention of Little Joe falling from a balcony in New Orleans was from my story “Always My Son.” ***