The nightmare was real when Little Joe was abducted at five years old by someone he called “the bad man“.  Now, at seventeen, his nightmare returns. Trapped inside his childhood memories, Joe faces the terror of “the bad man” again. Rating T, WC 45,516

The Bad Man

The last guests had just left after the party held in honor of Ben Cartwright’s cousin Harden Matthews’ visit to the Ponderosa.  While Hoss and Little Joe busied themselves moving the furniture in the living room back into place and Adam helped Hop Sing in the kitchen, Ben and Harden sat in the study.

“I’m going to miss the Ponderosa, Ben.  It’s been such a nice visit, and it’s been great catching up with you and your boys,” Harden announced as he raised his brandy up to toast his host.

Ben smiled and nodded to the other man.  “Well, then you’ll just have to come back for another visit just as soon as you’re settled at your new place in San Francisco!”

Harden leaned back in his chair and sighed.  “You’re forgetting that I’ll be pretty busy running that newspaper.  I doubt I’ll get a vacation any time soon.”

“Oh, I know it’ll be a while, but just as soon as you have some time the boy’s and I would love to have you come back and see us.  And of course, Hop Sing would too— he enjoys cooking for people who appreciate him.”

Hoss approached the two men and grinned over at his father.  “Me and Joe’s got the living room put back together, Pa.”

Ben leaned forward in his chair, glancing over to the fireplace and returned, “Good job, Son.  But where did your little brother go?”

Hoss gave a slight shrug to his shoulders and answered, “He said he was tired, and went up to bed.”

“I’d have thought he’d say goodnight.  Wasn’t he feeling well?” Ben questioned, a bit of concern in his tone of voice.  It just wasn’t like Joseph not to say goodnight.

“Relax, Pa – he’s fine.  The kid probably wore himself out breaking horses today,” Adam sang out coming into the room and reading the typical worry on his father’s face.

“Little Joe got tossed around a lot, but he hung on,” Hoss laughed.  “If he’s this good at seventeen, Pa – that kid will be a sought-after wrangler before he’s twenty.  I hope we can keep him with us.”

“I believe we can, Hoss,” Ben chuckled.  “No one can out bid us with wages – not to mention the special bonuses I give you three boys!”

“Speaking of wages –,” Harden began.  He stood and set his glass down on top of the desk.  “I’ve got a job that’s starting in just a few days, and I’ll be leaving on the stage tomorrow.  I guess I’d better turn in.  Oh, thank you for the party, Ben – it was a lot of fun.”

Ben stood and approached the man, placing a hand on his shoulder.  “I’m glad you had a nice time.  You go and get a good night’s sleep, Harden.  We’ll get you to that stage on time.  It won’t be leaving until after one, so you have time to sleep in if you want to.”

“Thanks, Ben.  Goodnight Hoss – Adam,” he nodded to his hosts and walked into the guest quarters off to the left of the dining room.

“It’s sure been good to have your cousin here, Pa.  I’m glad he decided to leave St. Joe and come out this way,” Adam smiled over at his father.

“Yeah, he tells some great stories too,” Hoss interjected.

Ben placed a hand on each of his sons’ shoulders and replied, “Yes, it’s been nice to have Harden here.  But you boys can tell some pretty good stories yourselves.  The only difference is he gets paid to make up his yarns – at least the ones that he writes for the newspapers.  Now why don’t the three of us go up and get some sleep?”

The three men walked up the staircase and bid each other goodnight before heading to their rooms.  It had been a long day, and it didn’t take any of the Cartwrights very long to fall to sleep.

---

Ben rolled from his back and onto his side upon hearing the light tapping on his bedroom door.   He wasn’t quite sure if he had been dreaming or not but, once the knocking grew a bit louder, he sat up in his bed and tried to get his bearings.

“Ben?” Harden quietly called through the door, unsure if his cousin had heard him.

Donning his robe and slippers, Ben hurried to the door and opened it to see Harden there in the hall with a very strange expression on his face.  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I heard a sound in the kitchen – it woke me up.  I decided I’d better go see what it was – and found Little Joe in there.  Ben – he’s acting strangely – you’d better handle this.”

“Strangely?” he returned, perplexed by what the man had said.  Ben moved out into the hallway and headed for the staircase.  “What’s the boy doing?”

“He’s in the pitch dark sitting on the floor in the corner of the room.  He just keeps repeating the same couple of words.”

A sudden reminiscent feeling of dread filled Ben’s mind as he increased his pace down the hall and hurriedly descended the staircase.  With Harden trailing behind him, he made his way to the kitchen, grabbing up the oil lamp that his cousin had left just outside the guest room.  Cautiously Ben made his way to the far-right corner of the kitchen just to the side of the sink.  Little Joe was hunkered down with his arms tightly wrapped around his knees that were pulled up to his chest.   His eyes wide open reflecting the fear he was experiencing Joe didn’t move a muscle as his father set the lamp onto the floor and reached for his arm.

“Joseph?” Ben called softly trying not to spook the boy.  He used the same approach that he would’ve used with a frightened animal, quiet and gentle.   Ben had seen his son in that exact same place on the floor several times over the past twelve years, but the appearance of fear on the boy’s face never ceased to alarm him.  “Son, are you alright?”

“The – bad – man’s – coming,” Little Joe answered in a broken whisper and held the index finger of his left hand up to his lips warning his pa to be quiet.  He hesitantly leaned forward, his eyes darting back and forth as though he was expecting someone to suddenly jump out from the darkness and steal him away.

Knowing that his former worry had been realized, Ben cast an uncomfortable glance back at Harden.  “I’ll handle this – why don’t you go on back to sleep?”

Harden placed a comforting hand onto his cousin’s shoulder and whispered, “Ben – what is it?  What’s the boy talking about?”

Ben drew himself up off the floor and pulled the other man back a bit to explain.  “What Joe’s going through is a bit like sleepwalking.  We can’t try to wake him or it’ll make matters worse.  I’ll get him settled back in his bedroom.  There’s nothing that you can do right now.”

With a hesitant nod, Harden turned out of the kitchen not wanting to do anything that might prove detrimental to Joe’s well-being.  He walked back inside the guest room to give his cousin time to tend to his son.

Dropping down onto one knee, Ben reached for Little Joe’s shoulder and coaxed him calmly, “Joseph, son – let’s get you back up to your room now.”

“But the bad man’s coming – Pa,” He returned, sounding very agitated over his father’s dismissiveness.  Sliding back against the corner of the room to make sure that he couldn’t be seen by the hidden abductor, Joe drew his knees to his chest again and held onto them as tightly as he could.  He wasn’t willing to budge from the corner where he had sought shelter.

“No, he’s not coming, Boy – he’s not coming back ever again,” Ben continued and carefully reached for Joe’s elbow.  He slowly eased the boy to his feet and wrapped an arm around his shoulder to reassure him that all was well.

“Don’t let him find me – Pa,” Little Joe whimpered as he looked back down to the corner where he had purposely hidden.

“It’s okay, Joseph – your Pa’s here now.  He won’t find you ever again.  He’s gone,” Ben cajoled the boy.  Making their way out of the kitchen one coaxed step after the other, Ben patiently maneuvered his son across the living room.  He knew that he needed to get the boy back into his bed.  They climbed the staircase slowly and every other second Joe’s gaze was directed down into the darkened room, expecting to see the person he had hidden from earlier.

“The bad man always finds me, Pa,” Little Joe whispered, a note of despondency in his tone.

“No, he won’t find you again, Joseph – because he’s never coming back.  Now – let’s get you settled down some, Son,” Ben returned quietly as he threw the covers back so the boy could crawl into bed.  “There you go,” Ben said as he watched Little Joe’s head ease down onto the pillow.  “That’s right, Joseph, you close those eyes now and get some sleep.”

Little Joe’s eyelids began to droop as his body conformed to the mattress.  It took several minutes before he began to settle down, but his breathing finally became slow and even.  Just before he went back under the protective blanket of sleep he whispered plaintively to his pa, “The bad man is coming.”

Ben shook his head worriedly as he softly combed his fingers through the boy’s tousled hair lulling his son back to sleep.  He had hoped that Little Joe’s subconscious mind had finally let go of the frightful memories but that hadn’t been the case.  “Rest, Son – just rest,” He crooned.  When he was confident that Joseph had fallen back to sleep, he leaned down and softly kissed the boy’s brow.  Ben stood there next to the bed for a few minutes to make sure that Joseph wasn’t going to get back up.  He felt just as apprehensive as he had the first time that he’d seen his son in that state years ago.  Quietly closing the door, he walked into the hallway.  Ben’s heart fell in his chest thinking back on all that Joe had gone through twelve years prior.  His youngest had endured so much and it didn’t look like he was any closer to getting over what had happened to him when he was just a little boy.

---

Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep due to his worries, Ben slowly walked down the stairs.  He was surprised to see Harden sitting in the living room, a fresh pot of coffee sitting next to him on the table with two cups waiting for his cousin to sit with him.

“I’m sorry – couldn’t you go back down?” Ben sighed wearily as he joined the man next to the fireplace.

“I just wanted to make sure everything was alright, Ben.  I was worried about both you and Little Joe.  Here –,” he said and handed his cousin a cup of coffee.  “I figured we both might need some.”

“Thanks,” Ben nodded gratefully as he leaned back in the red leather chair.  His face was the picture of worry as he stared blankly over at the flames dancing across the firelogs.

“Tell me about it,” Harden insisted and reached over to offer his cousin a reassuring pat to his arm.

Drawing in a deep breath, Ben shifted nervously in the chair.  He decided to tell the story to his cousin though he wasn’t exactly sure why.  He supposed that perhaps by sharing the sad tale that it might help him to quell his anxiety over all that his youngest had gone through.

“It all started back when the boy was five years old.  About four months after we lost Marie something happened to Joe.  It began as a typical day here.  Joseph was a real handful at five.  He was a joy to me and the boy was a constant reminder of Marie.  But sometimes he could fray my nerves, especially when I was busy working at my desk.  It was one of those days – and in hindsight I blame myself for everything that happened.  Little Joe wouldn’t stop running around and making noise and I was at a loss as to what to do.  I didn’t want to yell at him because he wasn’t being bad – just acting out like any normal rambunctious little boy I suppose.  But I had some contracts that needed my attention and a lot of bills to tend to.  I finally had to implore Hop Sing to come and get Joseph and keep him in the kitchen with him for a little while,” Ben stopped as the memory seemed so vivid that it made the horror of the incident feel just as real as it had on that day some twelve years ago.

*** “Joseph, would you please settle down some?” Ben called across the room as he witnessed the little boy running around by the fireplace.

“Papa, I’m just acting!” Little Joe answered innocently as he climbed up onto the coffee table.

Shaking his head, Ben took on a stern countenance and once more tried to get the boy’s attention.  “Joseph, I’ve told you that little boys don’t need to be climbing on that table and that means you.  Feet on the floor right this minute!”

Little Joe cast a confused glance across the room.  “Papa it ain’t a little boy up here – I’m a bear and bears climb on things!” Little Joe protested.

“Joseph – do you want me to come in there?” Ben warned, his voice raised an octave to bring home his point that he was serious.

“Yeah, Papa!  Come on in here so we can play!” Little Joe answered exuberantly, thinking that his father was making an offer and not a threat.

Ben groaned and shook his head.  “I don’t want bears up on the furniture either, Young Man.  Now get down from there – and be careful!”

Sighing, Little Joe jumped off the table and looked back over at his father.  “Do you gotta keep working?  I want you to play with me.  Hoss and Adam are outside setting traps – and I don’t have nobody to play with me.  Ole Hop Sing is busy in the kitchen so he can’t play.”

“You don’t have ANYONE to play with you,” Ben corrected the five-year-old.

“Yep!  Papa that’s what I just told you!” the boy nodded insistently.

Groaning again, Ben set down the stack of bills he was in the process of going through and stared at his boy.  “I need to get this done, Joseph.   I’ll play with you later if you’ll pipe down so I can finish my work.  Now why don’t you look at that new picture book I bought you last week?”

Little Joe walked over to the blue winged back chair and lifted the book up into his hands before turning his attention back to his father.  “That’s what I’m doing, Papa.  I’m acting out the story of the three bears!”  And with that statement, Little Joe began to growl as he climbed up onto the hearth.  “Who’s been sleeping in MY bed!” He shouted.

Ben winced his eyes closed as he massaged his temples.  “Hop Sing!” He bellowed and waited for the man to come in from the kitchen.

“What you want now?  Hop Sing have wash to do – dinner to make!” the man complained, a bit annoyed to have been summoned into Ben’s study.

“Would you please take Little Joe into the kitchen with you and maybe find him something to keep him occupied?  I’ve just got to get this paperwork done!  I’ve already lost half of the afternoon – because of that boy’s very loud performances.”

Hop Sing walked over to the hearth where Little Joe was raising his arms in the air pretending to be a bear.  “You come in kitchen now – must let Papa get work done, Little Joe.” He announced and set a hand onto the boy’s left arm.

“Can you act like an old bear, Hop Sing?” He asked hopefully.  “There’s three bears in this story, but I can play two of them – just need you for the other one, okay?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Hop Sing replied, “No can act like bear – but can give you cookies.  You come now!”

“See you later, Papa!  Get your work done, okay?” Little Joe shouted as he turned and ran full speed into the dining room followed by a very tired-looking Hop Sing.

Ben shook his head fighting his amusement over what the little boy had said.  He focused his attention on the bills and contracts there in front of him. ***

Shaking himself from his memories, Ben looked back over at his cousin.  He hadn’t realized that he had been silent for so long and apologized, “Sorry, Harden – the memories are still quite fresh even after twelve years.”

“Go on, Ben,” Harden coaxed.  He could see how troubled the man was.   Harden knew that it had to be some kind of harrowing event in his life or his cousin wouldn’t have looked as terrified as he did at that moment.

Sighing, Ben continued with his retelling of events.  “Hop Sing had left Little Joe in the kitchen and went outside to hang the wash up on a line we’d strung in the back.  He wasn’t going to be gone long so he’d given the boy some cookies and sat him up at the kitchen table.  Then he told Joseph to stay put until he got back.  The next thing I knew Hop Sing was back in my study frantically shouting out in Chinese.  I just thought that Joseph had gotten into some kind of mischief.  But as soon as he began to speak in English again, he asked me if I’d seen the boy.  I just assumed that Joe must’ve gone out the kitchen door and was somewhere in the yard.  But that hadn’t been the case,” Ben paused again and stood from his chair.  He needed to pace to tell the rest of the tale.  As he walked back and forth in front of the fireplace, Harden never remembered seeing his cousin look so frightened.

“We checked everywhere!  Adam and Hoss had been out trapping in the woods behind the house, so I hollered for them.  Once they got here we all searched the yard, the barn – well – everywhere that we thought he might have gone.  Hop Sing was beside himself with worry.  He was blaming himself for not keeping his eye on Joseph and of course I was blaming myself too – for pushing my son away to begin with.  The only clue that we found was a pile of crumbs on the floor.  They were there in that same corner of the kitchen where you found Joseph tonight.  We later came to believe that the boy must’ve seen someone coming inside and had hidden there with the cookies that Hop Sing had given him.”

Harden’s heart raced upon hearing the story thus far.  He focused his attention on Ben and asked, “You mean someone came right inside your house and took the boy?”

Nodding, Ben returned, “Yes – I don’t know how – how he knew that no one else was around.  You’d think what with all the guns in this house that someone would know better than to just walk in here.  He should’ve known to expect to get a bullet for his trouble if we had seen him.  Evidently the man was watching all our comings and goings.”

“Then what happened?”

“None of the ranch hands were here at the time – but we sent word for everyone to get here quick.  We took them from all parts of the ranch.  It was the first time that there wasn’t one single wrangler or drover minding the stock.  We needed everyone we could get to try and find the boy.”

“How long did it take to find Little Joe?”

Ben’s face flinched when he thought back on what had transpired and how long it had taken them to get Joseph back.

“We found him on the seventh day after he had been taken,” He responded grimly.  “After that first day we thought there would be a ransom note sent.  But that didn’t happen.  The sheriff got up a posse, and this ranch was swarming with folks looking for Joe.  I put up a reward to find the boy, but nothing ever turned up,” Ben dropped into his chair and placed his head down into his hands.  Just the retelling of the terrible story had filled him with the same overwhelming sadness that he had felt some twelve years earlier.  “For those entire seven days we checked everywhere. There wasn’t one building within thirty miles that wasn’t searched.  We also checked every single well.  None of us knew if maybe the boy had wandered off and perhaps fell– or had been shoved down into one.  You name it – we searched everywhere!   From line shacks and outhouses, and from henhouses to mines in Virginia City, but Joseph was nowhere to be seen.  I was told by everyone who had searched for the boy that there wasn’t anything else left that we could do.  They expected us to just give up and yield to the inevitable, grieve for the boy and go on.”

“I imagine all of you were terrified – and to have it go on for seven days without knowing if Little Joe was still alive had to be emotionally excruciating!”

“It was,” Ben responded bluntly.  “Of course, Adam and Hoss were devastated – as was Hop Sing.  And as for me — well I collapsed the evening of the sixth day.  I hadn’t slept more than an hour or two every night during that whole time.  All I could think about was that I was going to lose the little boy who I loved so much — just like I had lost his mother.  The only reason that I kept going was because of my two older boys – and the hope that I might still find Joseph.”

Harden poured two fresh cups of coffee for both Ben and himself and handed one to his cousin.  “Here – drink, Ben.”

Nodding gratefully, he took the time to sip some of the brew and gather his thoughts.  He hated to rehash such an awful experience, but he supposed it was time.  Ben hadn’t shared the tale with anyone outside of the immediate family before.

“Doctor Martin fixed me up after I went down.  He dosed me up good with some kind of sedative, though I protested.  I guess I slept about eight straight hours for the first time in six days.  When I woke up, I decided that it was time to go and have a talk with my two boys.  I didn’t want to surrender to the awful reality that we would never see Joseph again – but there wasn’t much else to do.  We needed to mourn.”

“How did you find him, Ben?”

“An old friend — someone I first met after buying this place many years ago — stopped by to ask if he could help.  He had been up in the deep north woods and hadn’t known that Joseph had gone missing until the previous day.  Old Jake Sommers jumped on his horse and rode straight through the night to get here and talk to me.  You see he was a trapper and knew this country like the back of his hand.  After I told him where we had searched, he asked if we’d checked some of the caves around here.  I told him we had.  That’s when I learned that there was one not far from here that none of us even knew existed.  He suggested that we might as well search there since we’d looked everywhere else.”

“And that’s where you found the boy?” Harden asked, leaning forward with anticipation spreading across his face.

Ben nodded and returned his coffee cup back down on the table.  “The cave was about five miles from here.  The mouth of it was covered in thick brush which had camouflaged it, keeping it well hidden from sight.  That was why we’d never known it was there.  Thank the Good Lord that Jake knew.  Little Joe was about twenty yards inside the mouth of the cave.  Whoever took him had fashioned a cage of sorts, just a little taller than Joseph and the boy was inside of it.  I used the butt of my gun to break the lock on it and crawled on my hands and knees to get him out.  He was in pretty rough shape.  When I reached for the boy to pull him into my arms he acted just like a frightened animal.  He was there in the dark, shivering and rocking himself back and forth.  I had to gently coax him to let me hold him; something I’d never had to do before.  That little boy and I had always been very close.  But he was in shock and couldn’t say too much of anything for a couple of days.  He was covered in dirt and looked as though he hadn’t had much to eat.  I remember getting him out of there and lifting Joseph up into my arms and hugging him so fiercely that it’s a wonder I didn’t hurt the boy,” Ben had to stop and brush away the sudden appearance of tears.  He coughed into his fist to clear the thick emotion from his voice and then stood and faced the fireplace.

“Was the boy hurt?”

“Doc examined Joseph.  There were a few minor cuts and bruises on him.  We never really found out what all had happened during those extraordinarily horrifying seven days that someone had kept him a prisoner there in that cave.  Doc was afraid of what might happen if we tried to press Joseph too much to find out who had taken him.  It was several days before the boy said anything that made sense.  And when he finally did, he repeated the same words that you heard in the kitchen.  He said the bad man was coming over and over again.

*** “Joseph?  Joseph – what did you say?” Ben asked as he was abruptly awakened from his slumber.  He tried to locate the boy who had sprung up in his bed and was crying.  He had insisted that Little Joe sleep in his room with him, worried that he would end up having nightmares due to his imprisonment.

“The bad man, Papa,” the little boy choked out as tears streamed down his face.

Ben reached over to where his son was sitting on the side of the bed and gathered him up in his arms.  He pressed his lips to Little Joe’s cheek and tried to calm him.  “Tell your Pa what you were dreaming about, Son, maybe I can help you,” he whispered and ran his fingers through the boy’s curls.

“The bad man, Papa – the bad man is coming — I seen him in my dream.  I don’t like the bad man.”

Now he knew why his son had awakened the way he had.  It was obvious that Little Joe had dreamed about the man who had taken him out of the house and held him in the cave.  “The bad man? Is that what his name was, Joseph – the man who took you away?”

Little Joe nodded his head sadly and then threw his arms around his father’s neck hanging on for dear life.  “It was the bad man – he tooked me, Papa!  The bad man is coming!”

Ben patted the little boy’s back trying to calm him.  He whispered, “It’s alright, Joseph, he’s never going to take you away from me again – I promise.  Now let’s lie back and try to get some sleep.”  Pulling his son onto his shoulder, Ben wrapped him in his tight embrace and didn’t let go all night. ***

“Ben?” Harden called over to his cousin, trying to jolt him from his traumatic memories.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Ben apologized, “Sorry – sometimes it seems like just yesterday.   Anyway, we had no clue as to the identity of the man who had stolen the boy from us.  Everyone tried – Jake did his best to find some sign that might have been missed.  But whoever kidnapped Joseph hadn’t left any clue as to where he’d gone.  Whatever tracks he might have left had been brushed over.  So that was that.”

“I’m sure at that point you were just thankful to get the boy back,” Harden nodded over to his cousin.

“We sure were.  And Joseph had dealt with such a traumatic experience that it took a long while to get him to the point where he could go to sleep in his own room.  He stayed with me in mine for a good three months after we got him home,” Ben paused and cast a sentimental smile over to his cousin.  “Of course, part of that was me – I didn’t want to take my eyes off my little boy!  I felt better knowing he was right there where I could reach him at night.  We made sure to lock and bolt every shutter and every single door in this place after that.”

Harden grinned over at his cousin, “I bet you never minded Little Joe making noise and driving you to distraction after that, huh, Ben?”

Ben chuckled and nodded his head.  “You’re quite right about that.  I never complained about that little boy making noise ever again.  I was just so thankful that we had found Joseph alive and I never wanted to chance anything like that happening ever again!”  Sighing to himself, Ben offered a peculiar smile and announced with a hint of guilt on his face, “Oh, I know I’m overly protective of that boy – guess I always will be.”

“I’d say after all that you’d gone through you’ve got the right to be, Ben.”

“I suppose,” He nodded, thankful to have his cousin’s kind words to reassure him.

Harden stared over at his cousin, confusion on his face.  “But – if that happened when Joe was five – why did we find him like we did tonight?  He’s seventeen.”

“As I told you when you found him tonight – Doc says whatever this is seems to be much like sleepwalking.  He says that Joseph’s recurring walk to the kitchen to hide is caused by whatever trauma he went through way back then.  The boy always ends up in the same place.  We think that’s where he hid to escape from whoever came through the kitchen door to take him.  Evidently that was why we found the remnants of those cookies that Hop Sing had given him there in the corner of the room,” Ben paused and drew in another deep breath trying to still the mounting fear that plagued him every time his son had ended up on the kitchen floor.  He looked over at Harden and continued, “It happened the first time when the boy was about seven.  It sure scared all of us too!  Late one night I just had an inkling that something was wrong.  Perhaps one could chalk that up to fatherly instinct.   I quietly walked into Little Joe’s bedroom and he wasn’t there.  I searched the house and was just about ready to wake his brothers when I spotted him in the kitchen.  The boy was huddled up next to the sink in that same corner.  I didn’t realize what was going on and when he said that the bad man was coming, I thought that the intruder had come back.  It was all that I could do to pry Joe out of there!   I carried him with me as I went and got my gun.  Then, room by room, I checked again to see if anyone was in the house.  I tried to get the boy to talk but he just repeated those same words again.  The following day I took him to see the doctor.  Paul wasn’t sure what to do about it.  He hoped that Joe would outgrow it, but he hasn’t yet.  After that first time these spells happen sporadically.  The strange thing is that it always happens at the exact same time of the year that he was abducted.  Sometimes Joseph ends up in the kitchen just for one night and other times he ends up going in there for several.  Then it just stops.  There’s no rhyme or reason to any of it.”

“That’s odd — does Joe know?”

“Not really – at least he’s never brought it up to any of us.  I usually get him up to bed and once he settles down, he goes right back to sleep.  The next morning, he acts like nothing ever happened.  It scares me to death that one of these nights he’ll fall down those stairs while he’s in that trance-like state.”

“And nothing can be done about it?  I’m sure you’ve asked?”

Disheartened, Ben shook his head and replied, “No there’s nothing we can do – I’ve asked his doctor.  Unless Joseph suddenly remembers something about what happened to him when he was five, Doc doesn’t think there’s anything we can do to stop him from having these spells.  Just like Paul, I thought that he’d outgrow all of this, but he hasn’t.  And I don’t want to mention to the boy that he was taken from this house by someone we never caught.  I just can’t imagine that it would help the situation if he knew.  It might create new problems.”

Harden’s face was the picture of confusion as he stared at his cousin.  “He doesn’t even know that he was abducted?” He asked incredulously.

“Well, the boy was only five – and he’s never said anything about it.  Now when he finally began to talk a few days after we brought him home, he did say a couple of things.”

“Like what?  Did he describe the person who took him?”

“No – nothing like that.  He did say that it was the bad man and that he had scared him.  Joseph always calls him that – the bad man.  When he told me that the bad man had scared him the boy got very skittish when I asked him what he did to him.  Then he would start to cry, and I’d just have to hold him for a while until he played himself out and fell to sleep.  I didn’t want to interrogate that little boy—for fear that things would get worse and he’d never shake himself out of the terror that he was feeling.  Of course, I wanted to find out who took my son.  I wanted to kill whoever had harmed my boy.  But, with no idea as to who it was and no evidence to help us, there really wasn’t anything that I could do about any of it.”

Harden stood and patted his cousin’s shoulder.   “I hate that all of that happened to you and the family, Ben.  I hope the boy will be alright.”

Ben nodded over to the other man and returned, “Thank you, Harden.  I guess I’ll have to keep my eye on him for a few nights.  It’s now been two years since the last time, – so I suppose we were due.”  Casting a quick glance over at the grandfather clock, Ben realized the lateness of the hour.   He forced a smile and said, “I’ve kept you up long enough with my troubles, now you go on and go to bed.  You need to get at least a couple of hours before you take that stage tomorrow.”

Harden walked to the dining room and cast a parting glance at Ben.  “Are you going to be able to sleep, Ben?”

“I’m going to do what I always do.  I’ll sit in Joe’s room for a bit.  I doubt he’ll get up again – but since it’s his first night going through this, I’ll wait awhile to make sure.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Ben,” Harden gave a commiserative nod and offered an understanding smile to his cousin before he walked inside the bedroom.

---

Sighing to himself, Ben climbed the stairs and headed for Little Joe’s room.  He quietly opened the bedroom door and crossed the floor.  Looking down at his son he was relieved to see that Joseph was sleeping soundly.

“Oh, Joseph,” Ben sighed as he sat down in the chair next to the bed.  “I wish none of this ever happened to you, Boy.”  He closed his eyes as memories flooded his mind, and all of them were heartbreaking ones.  Ben remembered jogging into the kitchen along with Hop Sing that day.  He had stared down at the cookie crumbs and then hurriedly flung the kitchen door open and shouted the boy’s name.  Joseph was nowhere to be seen.  Ben ran out into the yard and headed straight for the barn.  He knew the little boy loved to go and see the horses and hand them treats.  The barn was empty other than Buck standing in the one stall at the far left.  He had climbed the ladder to the hayloft and searched up there, again with no luck.  Ben heard Hop Sing out in the yard calling out Joe’s name and then urgently crying out in his native tongue.  It was time to call his other boys, and Ben frantically ran towards the woods.  Adam and Hoss were just coming back from setting some rabbit traps when they heard their father’s plaintive call.  They knew that there was some kind of trouble and hurried to get home.

That first night had been like a walking nightmare but Ben hadn’t faltered.  He sent Adam to get a hold of the foreman, Fletcher, and the two of them rode off to rally the other hired hands to join in the search for Little Joe.  When they all gathered in the front yard it was already dark and Joseph had been gone a good eight hours.  Ben dispatched Cody to go fetch Sheriff Coffee and tell him what had happened.  Soon all the hired hands went off in various directions with one solitary thought; to find Little Joe Cartwright.  When Roy had gotten there, he had tried his best to allay Ben’s worry, but it hadn’t worked.  He tried to tell his old friend that the men he had brought with him would locate the boy and for him to settle down and let him do his job.  They were all sure that someone had kidnapped Little Joe and that soon a ransom note would be received.  Ben prayed that would be the case, because at least there was a chance to find Joseph if someone admitted to holding him.  He wouldn’t have cared if he had to sell the Ponderosa to pay the kidnapper just as long as his little boy was returned.

The days went by both slowly and filled with dread after that.  What little hope they had vanished when no note was dropped off.  Ben couldn’t understand how someone could have been so bold to just walk into his house and take his little boy.  He wondered how long the man had been watching the house and why he would take Little Joe.  Ben tried to keep Adam and Hoss’ spirits up even though his own heart was broken.  All he could think about was how he had failed his little boy.  He wished that he hadn’t made such a fuss about all the noise that Joseph had made that day.  Ben prayed for a chance to hear his little boy’s laughter again and vowed if he was returned that he’d never again mention wanting peace and quiet.  Nights were the worst for him.  Ben always knelt next to Joseph’s bed before he went to sleep and listened to the little boy’s prayers before tucking him in.  Now the empty bedroom across the hall from him was a stark reminder that a good-sized piece of his heart was missing.

By the time they had hit the seven-day mark there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.  Though the two older boys tried to be strong for their father’s sake, they had both finally broken down.  Both the seventeen-year-old Adam and the eleven-year-old Hoss were inconsolable.  The thought that the little boy with his big smile and the loving nature was gone and probably would never be coming back had cut them to the very marrow.  Ben had tried to comfort them with reassuring words that Little Joe would be found even though he doubted that would be the case.  He had to try to keep his family together somehow and he did.

The afternoon of the seventh day Jake Sommers showed up and offered his help.  Ben sat with the man at his desk.  A map of the Ponderosa was spread out on top of it with all the areas where search parties had looked for the boy circled in ink.  He pointed out every single one of them to the trapper.  It was then that Jake mentioned that there was a cave not far from the ranch house, one that Ben hadn’t been aware of.  Knowing it was a last-ditch effort, Ben and his two sons rode along with the man who led the way there.  They had pulled back the heavy overgrowth which covered the mouth of the cave and, with lanterns in hand, the four of them searched inside.  Ben had spotted the small form of the little boy sitting there in the make-shift cage resting against one of the walls of the cave.  His heart leapt in his chest at the sight.  The very first thing Ben did was to silently thank God that his son had been found and found alive.  After breaking the lock off the thing, Ben remembered wanting to just snatch Joseph up into his arms and never let him go.  But he could see that the youngster was scared stiff.  Little Joe was sitting cross-legged on the cold damp ground and was steadily rocking himself back and forth.

“Joseph?  Son – I’ve missed you so much,” Ben whispered as he brushed his fingers through his son’s dirty hair.  He felt the boy pull back momentarily as if he was scared and didn’t want to be touched.  Suddenly, Joe had caught the scent of the man kneeling on the ground in front of him.  It was the familiar mixture of Pa’s Bay Rum cologne along with his pipe tobacco.  Rubbing at his eyes, the boy realized that he had been found by someone who loved him.  It was then that the first tears fell from his eyes.  Ben swept the boy up in his arms.  He kissed his child’s cheeks as he held onto him for dear life.  Ben slowly eased the two of them out of the cage and stood with Joseph held securely in his arms.

“It’s alright, Joseph – your Pa’s got you now.  Nobody’s ever going to take you away from me again,” Ben whispered as he kissed his little boy again, pressing his cheek to Little Joe’s.  “I think you need a bath, Young Man,” Pa grinned as he waved his two older boys over.

“Little Joe, you done scared me to death!” The eleven-year-old Hoss exclaimed and gently patted his brother’s head.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Kid,” Adam whispered, seeing that his youngest brother looked terrified.

Ben looked across the cavern at Jake.  The man was a grizzled old trapper, but he was standing there mopping the tears from his eyes after watching the reunion going on across from him.

“I’ll never be able to thank you, Jake,” Ben called over to the man.  He had to brush aside his own tears as he held out one hand to shake with the trapper.  With Ben’s other hand he securely held his little boy to his chest.  He wasn’t about to let go; not ever.

“Pleasure’s mine, Ben,” Jake smiled as he nodded over to his old friend.

“How about we take you home and get some good food into you, Boy?” Ben asked Little Joe.  He hadn’t expected an answer because it was very evident that the boy was still in shock.  “Hop Sing’s missed you so much, Joseph – as have we all.  Come on everyone let’s get on home,” he announced and led the way out of the cave.

It had taken a group effort to get the boy into a tub that night to clean him up.  Ben shook his head when he saw several cuts and bruises on his five-year-old.  He didn’t know if the kidnapper had caused them or if Joseph had fallen inside the cave while trying to escape.  There were so many unanswered questions.  Ben gently towel-dried the little boy’s hair before pulling the nightshirt over his head.  He continued to talk to his son even though Little Joe hadn’t said anything other than the words the bad man.

Kneeling on the floor in the boy’s bedroom, Ben ruffled a hand through Little Joe’s hair and said to him, “Well, Young Man, you certainly look better.”  He leaned forward and kissed the boy’s cheek and took in a deep breath and chuckled, “And you sure smell better too.”  Ben grinned at the boy and as he stood, he called, “Up you go!” He lifted the child up into his arms.  “Now let’s get you downstairs to see what Hop Sing’s got for you.”  Little Joe buried his face underneath his father’s chin and held onto his neck with such a tight grip that it surprised his pa.  Ben realized that his son was still just as frightened as he had been inside the cave.  “I’ve got you, Joseph.  It’s going to be just fine—you’re home now and that’s where you’re staying,” Ben patted the boy’s back as he carried him down the hall.

Hop Sing made some porridge because he didn’t want anything too heavy on the boy’s stomach to start off with.  He sat with the boy and his brothers and had to coax him to eat and drink.  Ben had gone upstairs to change into his bedclothes now that he knew that Joseph was in the loving care of Hop Sing and the boy’s brothers.

When he came back downstairs, Hop Sing reported to Ben that he’d been able to get Little Joe to eat half a bowl of porridge and drink most of his milk.

“Thank you, Hop Sing,” Ben nodded gratefully to the man.  “Well, Boys, you two get ready for bed now.  But come tell your little brother goodnight before I take him upstairs.”

Hoss and Adam both hugged the little boy and hoped that he would say something to them, but he hadn’t.  Ben had already spoken to the two of them.  He had assured both brothers that Little Joe would be back to normal in a few days but until then he instructed them to just go easy on the boy and not try to ask him anything about what had happened to him.

Ben walked around the house and made sure that every shutter was securely latched and that all the doors were bolted shut.  Once he was content that everything was taken care of, he bid his two older boys goodnight and carried Joseph up to his room.

Ben turned the wick knob on his lamp until the light was down to a soft yellow glow in his bedroom.  He spread out on his bed and pulled the boy over to him.  Settling Little Joe’s head so that it would rest just underneath his chin, Ben wrapped his arms around the boy.  Looking down, he was surprised to see that Joseph’s eyes were still wide open.  Ben assumed that after all the commotion and the warm bath that Little Joe would have fallen right off to sleep.

“Now, Joseph,” He whispered as he softly combed his fingers through the boy’s curls which had finally dried after his bath.  “You go ahead and close those eyes.  I’m not going to leave you, not even for one second.  You’re safe, Boy.  Your Pa isn’t going to let anything happen to you,” Ben tried his best to get Little Joe to settle down.  He could feel the boy’s chest rapidly heaving in and out and watched as the hazel eyes darted around the bedroom.  “Son, it’s going to be alright now.  There’s nothing to be afraid of.  I know it had to be very scary for you while you were away from us.  But you don’t have to be afraid anymore,” Ben pressed his lips to the boy’s cheek and watched as Little Joe’s eyelids began to flutter a bit before finally closing.  Settling back against the pillows, Ben felt the two little arms wrap around his neck.  The child was hanging on to his father as though he was still petrified.  Ben slowly rubbed Little Joe’s back trying to lull him to sleep.  He whispered, “Joseph, I missed you so much.  I know you’ve gone through a lot, but you don’t have to be frightened any longer.  Your Pa isn’t going to let anyone take you ever again. I love you, Son.  Now keep those eyes closed and try to sleep.”  The boy’s respirations finally slowed down, and he eventually fell asleep laying there on his father’s chest.  Ben closed his eyes and thanked God for the boy who was now held in his arms.  Easing the comforter up across Little Joe’s shoulders, he tried to settle down enough to fall to sleep.

“Oh, Joseph,” Ben sighed as he looked over to where his seventeen-year-old son slept.  I’ll never forget finding you, Boy.  I still thank the Good Lord every night that I still have you with me,” He whispered and then leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.

---

“Sorry I slept late, Pa,” Little Joe apologized as he took his seat at the dining table the next morning.

“That’s alright, Son,” Ben smiled over to the boy sitting on his immediate right.

“Little Joe would rather sleep than eat, Cousin Harden,” Hoss laughed.  “That’s why he’s a bit on the puny side!”

“Very funny,” Joe said shaking his head at his brother.

Ben and Harden exchanged glances, both men thinking back to the wee hours of the morning when they had spoken about Joe’s abduction.  It had proven to be exactly as Ben had told the man.  Little Joe had no inkling that he had hunkered down in the kitchen warning that the bad man was coming.

Passing a cup of coffee over to his son, Ben said, “How did you sleep?”

Rubbing the back of his neck and frowning, Joe replied, “I don’t exactly know, Pa.  I must’ve had some wild dreams because I woke up just as tired as I was when I went down last night.”

Adam piped up, “He’s just saying that Harden, so he’ll get out of the haying we’ve got to tackle today.”

Harden laughed and nodded over to Joe.  “I don’t blame you, Little Joe.  I don’t think I’d enjoy that type of job either.”

Little Joe smiled and responded, “Yeah – how about seeing if you can get me a job on that newspaper?  It’d sure be better than getting all dirty and itchy!”

Ben reached over and patted Joe’s arm and stated, “Oh no, I’ll not have any mutiny on my ship!”

“I guess that’s a no, Little Joe.  Besides I can’t really hire anyone until I prove myself as an editor and writer for the paper first,” Harden laughed.

Adam stood and put his hand on Joe’s shoulder and said, “You’re not getting out of that haying, Joe.  Now eat fast and then get moving so we can get into town and see Cousin Harden off at one.  You’ve held us up long enough.  Meet you outside.  C’mon, Hoss, we’ll get the horses saddled.”

Little Joe just groaned and sipped his coffee in response.

Hoss stood and walked around the table, dropping a hand down onto Harden’s shoulder.  “We’re all glad you came for a visit.  We’ll see you in Virginia City.”

“Thanks, Hoss.  Your father has insisted that I come back here soon.  So hopefully I’ll be seeing all four of you again – maybe as early as the fall.”

Adam reached out his hand to shake with the man.  “Hope you can make it back here just as soon as you get settled in your new job.  We’ll meet you in town before that stage pulls out.  But first I’ve got to get my brothers working on that haying job so they can earn their keep.”

“Thank you all for your hospitality,” Harden nodded to both Hoss and Adam as they filtered out of the room.

Little Joe stood from the table, sticking a piece of toast inside the pocket of his shirt.  “I’d better get going too.  I don’t need Adam raking on me all day about holding him up.  See you this afternoon.”

“Okay, Little Joe,” He smiled up at the boy.

“Pa – see you in town,” Joe grinned over at his father.

“Don’t give Adam too much trouble, Joseph.”

Little Joe laughed in response to his father’s remark.  He grabbed his hat and holster and hurried to meet up with his brothers.

As soon as the front door opened and closed, Harden looked over at his cousin and said, “Well, you were right.  That boy acted like nothing happened last night.”

Ben sighed as he set down his coffee cup.  “I know – it never ceases to amaze me.”

“He did look a bit worn out though.  I don’t know how long Little Joe was in the kitchen before I heard him and went to get you.”

“Yes, I noticed that Joseph looked tired.  I always ask how he’s slept trying to gauge if the boy remembers what he’s done the previous night.  Up until now he hasn’t said anything about being down in the kitchen nor anything about me taking him back up to his room afterwards.  I’ll have to tell his brothers about it later today when Joe’s not around.  Then they’ll know to listen out for him in case I don’t hear him getting up.”

Harden set down his coffee and replied, “Ben – have you ever thought about hypnosis?  I hear they’re doing a lot of that in the medical community now.  I wonder if it would help with Joe’s problem?”

“Doctor Martin brought that up to me a couple of years ago.  But he thought it might make matters worse.  If Joe recovers the memory of being abducted, it might be too much on him — so we didn’t go down that avenue.”

“I can understand that.  But wouldn’t you like to find out who took Little Joe?  It has to be an awful feeling — not knowing?”

“It is.  But I’m of the opinion that whoever took the boy has long since left the area or has died.  It has been twelve years now.”

“True,” Harden nodded.  “Well, I’d best finish packing,” he said and stood from the table.

“You have time – don’t rush,” Ben reminded the man as he watched him walk into the guest room.

---

Ben and Harden waited just outside of the Overland Stage Depot later that afternoon.  They had been watching for the arrival of Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe, but as time grew closer to the stage’s departure, they had just about given up on them.  As the driver jumped down from his position atop the stagecoach and readied for the passengers to board, all three young men finally appeared riding down the street.

“Sorry we’re late,” Adam announced as he swung down from his saddle.  “These two brothers of mine are slow as molasses today!”

Hoss shook his head as he dismounted next to his older brother.  “It wasn’t me — it was Little Joe.”

“Sure – I’m always to blame,” Little Joe sighed and came down from his saddle.

“Just glad you three made it,” Ben replied.

“Have a safe trip, Harden,” Adam said and shook the man’s hand.

“Thank you,” the man nodded.

“Yeah – and come back and see us real soon!” Hoss exclaimed and shook Ben’s cousin’s hand.

“Thanks, Hoss, I will.”

Little Joe pushed his two brothers aside and reached over to shake hands with Harden.  “Don’t forget to find me a real nice cushiony job with the newspaper,” Joe quipped.

“I said no mutinies!” Ben interjected and patted the shoulder of his youngest. “Write and let us know how you’re doing.”

“I will, Ben – and thanks again!” he replied and shook the man’s outstretched hand.

“Don’t forget that job!” Little Joe sang out.

Harden laughed and climbed aboard the stagecoach and waved goodbye as it hurriedly pulled away from the depot.

Ben turned and looked at all three of his sons and took on a stern appearance.  “Did you boys get the rest of that hay put up?”

“Of course,” Adam smiled.  “That’s why we were late, Pa.  Now — since it’s a Friday afternoon, we were all hoping for some time here in town.”

“That sounds good to me,” Hoss agreed, casting a hopeful look at his father.

Ben pursed his lips and thought about what his boys had suggested.  He wanted to prolong their anticipation even though he’d already decided to give them the afternoon off long before they had suggested it.

“Well— since you boys worked so hard this week – I guess an afternoon off is in order,” He responded still keeping up the appearance that it had been their idea and not his.

“Thanks, Pa!” Joe exclaimed, eager to go to the Silver Dollar and down a beer or two.  The haying had been a hot and itchy job, and he just wanted to relax.

Ben smiled at the enthusiasm of his youngest.  “Oh, that’s alright, Joseph.  Now – I’ve got a good idea.”

“Yeah, Pa?”

“You and I are going over to the barber shop.  Both of us could use a haircut,” Ben announced.

Little Joe frowned and tugged the collar of his jacket up a bit to hide the length of his locks.  “I don’t really need a haircut, Pa.”

“You’re not getting out of it again.  Just look at this,” Ben reached over and pulled out the good three inches of hair that was hidden underneath the boy’s jacket.

“Well, we’re going over to the Silver Dollar,” Adam said and tugged on Hoss’ arm.  “Have fun at the barber shop, Kid.”

“C’mon, Pa – give me some time, will you?” Joe protested.

Ben frowned and shook his head.  “That’s what you told me last month – and as a matter of fact the month before that too!”

“Just a few days?” Joe turned his eyes on his father and tried to look pathetic.

Ben groaned, “Okay, you have until this time next week, Young Man.  But if I don’t see the nape of your neck by next Friday then I’m going to take you into the barbershop myself.  Understood?”

“Sure, Pa,” Little Joe smiled and patted his father’s arm.  “Gotta go catch up with my brothers.  Hoss owes me a beer!”

“No more than two, Joseph,” Ben called to the boy as he hurried off.  His warning was met with laughter as Little Joe ran down the walkway.  “Kids,” Ben sighed and walked across the street to get his hair cut.

---

Aram Cullen had been one of the first barbers in the town of Virginia City.  After he had hung up his red and white barber’s pole, he had cut the hair of just about every man in the area over the past twenty plus years.  That included all the Cartwrights.  Ben settled into the barber’s chair and the two men conversed as Aram trimmed his hair.  The barbershop was a gathering place for the men in Virginia City and had been a safe haven where they could complain about their wives or children without fear that it would be carried beyond the walls.

Brushing the loose hairs off from Ben’s neck, Aram smiled.  “That’s about got you, Ben.  You want a shave?”

Ben ran a hand underneath his chin and shook his head.  “No, it’s not too bad and besides it’s a bit late in the day for that.  Next time, Aram.”

“I thought you said you were bringing that youngest boy of yours in with you today?  Where’s Little Joe?”

“Oh, you know Joseph, you’ve been cutting his hair his whole life!  I just about have to grab that boy by his ear and drag him in here kicking and screaming before he’ll get into this chair,” Ben sighed and reached inside his pocket to pull out two silver dollars which included a good tip for the man.  “Here you are, Aram.”

“Thank you, Ben,” He nodded and placed the money over on the counter.  “Little Joe’s hair grows fast – always has.  It’s thick too,” He paused as his eyes caught on his reflection in the mirror behind the barber chair.  Aram frowned when he thought about the fact that he was almost completely bald.  He had lost most of his hair early in life due to contracting scarlet fever as a child.  And now, at the age of fifty-five, he looked much older than he should because of it.  “When’s the boy coming in?”

“He has one week.  I told him that if he’s not in this barber chair by next Friday the following day, I’ll bring him in here myself,” Ben returned as he stood.  “So, I’m expecting Little Joe to be in to see you that day.  Like always – he’ll wait until he’s pushed me to my limits!”

Aram smiled as Ben turned for the door.  “Okay, then I’ll look for the boy next Friday.  Goodbye, Ben.”

“Thanks, Aram,” Ben nodded and walked outside.

---

The Cartwright brothers had a good time in Virginia City that afternoon, but it had taken Adam to round up both Hoss and Joe to make them leave the Silver Dollar before it got dark.  They arrived back home just in time for dinner.

“We’ve got a lot of strays to round up tomorrow, Boys,” Ben announced as he passed around the platters of food.

“I was hoping to go on out with Adam to start marking those trees for cutting, Pa,” Hoss replied as he helped himself to the potatoes.

“Give it here!” Joe fussed after watching his brother removing half of the potatoes from the bowl.

“Mind your elders, Short Shanks,” Hoss grinned and took out a couple more tablespoons of potatoes from the bowl before passing it across the table.

Little Joe shook his head as he stared at what was left inside the bowl, which wasn’t much. He scraped the little bit that remained and put it onto his plate.  “Hey, Pa.  I don’t mind rounding up those strays.”

“Fine, Son.  Okay, Hoss you and Adam get a start at marking those trees tomorrow.”

“Pa – Aram did a good job with your haircut,” Adam called over to his father and then shot a look at Joe.  “I’m surprised that Little Joe’s hair is still just as long though.”

“Eat your dinner,” Joe fussed staring over at Adam.

“Joseph is going to get a haircut real soon.  Right?” Ben turned his eyes on his youngest.

Little Joe piled the roast beef into his mouth and didn’t reply.

“Joseph?” Ben reiterated raising his eyebrows.

“Sure is good roast beef, Pa.  Hop Sing outdid himself,” Little Joe grinned, avoiding replying to what his father had said.

“You wouldn’t want me to take you by the hand and walk you into that barbershop, now, would you?” Ben returned sternly.

“Oh, Pa – I’ve got until next Friday, remember?  I’ll have it cut by then – don’t worry.”

“I think you should take him by the hand, Pa,” Hoss laughed.

“Eat your potatoes!” Joe fumed and shot Hoss an indignant glare.

“You have until next Friday, Joseph,” Ben insisted.

Little Joe didn’t answer.  He just finished eating and stood from the table.  “I’m kind of tired – goodnight!” He called across the table and hurriedly walked into the living room and then jogged up the stairs.

Ben watched as his youngest hightailed it up to his room and he reasoned that it had been due to the reminder that he would be getting a haircut.  He then turned his attention on his two older boys.

“I ain’t never seen a boy who hates to go to the barbershop more than that youngin,” Hoss laughed.

“He’s been like that his whole life, Hoss,” Adam nodded.

Ben cleared his throat, wanting to talk to his sons when Joe wasn’t around.  “I’m glad that your brother has gone up to his room.  I’ve got to talk to you boys.”

“What is it, Pa?” Hoss asked as he polished off the food on his plate.

“I found your brother cowered down in the kitchen last night,” Ben returned somberly.

“Oh, no – not again!” Adam sighed.  “Was he saying those same words?”

Ben nodded, “Yes – he just kept repeating the bad man is coming – just like he has for years.”

“Gosh, Pa – I’d have thought Little Joe would’ve grown out of that by now.  It’s been a while since the last time, right?” Hoss continued.

“Yes – your brother was about fifteen the last time that this happened.”

Adam stared over at his father, knowing that his brother’s situation had always worried him.  “Did you hear him going downstairs last night, Pa?”

Ben leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine before responding.  “No, it was Harden actually.  He heard something in the kitchen and found Joseph in there next to the sink just like before.  He came and woke me – and I got the boy settled down before coming back down here.  I told Harden what happened to Joe when he was five.”

“I guess it must’ve shocked him, huh, Pa?” Hoss asked.

Nodding over to his middle boy he replied, “Yes, it did.  I haven’t told that story in a long time.”

“What did he say about it?” Adam continued, figuring that his father needed to get it all off his chest.

“He wondered how the boy could make it down here in the state that he was in.  I told him that it scares me that Joe is going to fall down the stairs one of these days.”

“We’d better listen out for him – in case it happens again tonight,” Hoss announced worriedly.

Ben set his napkin down onto the table and stood.  “Yes – if either of you hear your brother come and get me.  It’s usually best if I get him back to his room myself.”

“You get some sleep, Pa – I’m sure you didn’t go back down for a long while last night,” Adam offered as he stood also.  “Hoss and I’ll listen out for Little Joe – don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Son.  I’ve got to admit I am tired.  See you both in the morning.  Hopefully Joseph will sleep uninterrupted tonight.”

“Goodnight, Pa,” Hoss called across the room as he watched his father heading to the stairs.

“Wish we could figure out a way to get Joe to stop waking up like he does.  It’s not good for him – and it’s not good for Pa either,” Adam said to Hoss.

“Yeah – hey come and get me if you hear him leave his room tonight, will you?  I’d rather let Pa gets some rest.”

“The way you sleep I’ll have to slam your bedroom door to get you up!” Adam laughed.

“I know – I know.  But come wake me just the same,” Hoss insisted as he stood from the table.

“Okay,” Adam nodded and the two men settled down in the living room next to the fireplace.

---

Ben had tried to listen out for Little Joe that night but by two in the morning he had succumbed to his fatigue and fell into a deep sleep.  Knowing that Hoss could sleep through just about anything, Adam also listened out for Joe.  Just a little after four in the morning he thought he had heard a door opening.  By the time Adam had donned his robe and slippers and made his way out into the hall he noticed that his little brother’s bedroom door was wide open.  He hurriedly made his way down the stairs and crossed the living room, heading to the kitchen.  It was too dark to see a thing, so Adam grabbed the lamp which was on top of the China cabinet.  He struck a match and soon spied Little Joe hunkering down on the floor next to the sink just as he had been the previous night.

“Joe?” Adam whispered and set the lamp on the floor next to the two of them.

“The bad man is coming,” he responded insistently.

“No – Kid – nobody is in here but the two of us.  Let’s get you back up to your room,” Adam calmly called to the boy and reached for Joe’s arm.

“The bad man’s coming!” Little Joe grew louder with his warning and pulled away from his brother’s touch.

“I’ve got it, Son.”

Adam turned around and saw his father’s silhouette there just inside the kitchen.

“Pa – I was hoping to handle this for you tonight, so you’d get some rest,” He returned as he pulled himself off the floor and moved closer to his father.

“I’m fine – I got some good sleep.  You go on up and get some more,” Ben nodded to his eldest and patted his shoulder.

“You sure you don’t need any help?”

Ben shook his head and watched as Adam turned into the dining room.  “Goodnight, Pa.”

“Goodnight.”

Walking quietly across the floor and over to his youngest, Ben knelt next to the sink and dropped a hand down onto Joe’s left arm.  “Joseph – it’s alright now.”

“The bad man is coming, Pa,” he repeated but indicated that he knew his father was with him now.

“No, Son – the bad man isn’t coming back.  Now let’s get you up into your room, Young Man,” He whispered and gently tugged the boy’s arm until he stood next to him.  Then, just like he had the previous night, Ben walked his son up to his bedroom.  He settled Joe back down in his bed and pulled the covers up around his shoulders.

Little Joe slowly closed his eyes, but before he fell back to sleep, he muttered the same words one final time.  Ben sighed wearily as he swept a hand across his son’s forehead.  It bothered him just as much as it had every single time that the boy had relived the trauma from his youth.  “Sleep, Joseph,” He whispered and waited there by the bed until he was certain that his son wouldn’t get back up.

---

As was typical, no one said a word to Joe about what had happened the previous night.  They spoke only to each other about the boy getting up early that morning and finding him back on the kitchen floor.  All conversation about the event ended the minute that the youngest made it down for breakfast and then they pretended that they had all slept soundly.  Adam and Hoss headed right out for the timber camp shortly after eating and soon thereafter Little Joe rode off to try and round up some of the stray calves which had run off the previous day.  Ben stayed at the house working on his ledgers and comparing prices on some equipment needed for several projects on the ranch.  His mind was preoccupied due to what had been going on with his youngest.  It bothered him so much, in fact, that by late that afternoon Ben decided to ride out to see how the boy was getting along.

“Where’s Little Joe? Have you seen the boy?” Ben called over to Fletcher as he rode up alongside him.  The foreman was actively rounding up strays as well.

“He’s over yonder!” the other man pointing towards the east.  “We’ve got most of them stupid cows rounded up but the youngin’ rode off that-a-way because he spotted a few more.”

“I guess I’ll go check on him,” Ben returned casting a quick glance in the direction that the man had indicated.

“You’re nothing but an old mother hen when it comes to those kids of yours, Ben,” Fletcher said with a big grin on his face.  “Time to let them out of the coop and then watch them fly off somewhere!”

Ben frowned over at his foreman who never ceased from speaking his mind.  “Just how many kids do you have now, Fletcher?” He responded with aggravation in his tone of voice.

The other man laughed heartily and reached across his saddle, patting his boss’ arm.  “Now – I don’t rightly know, Ben.  Might be at least twenty or thirty of them – but none’s ever found me yet!”

“And they’re better off for it,” Ben quipped and then chuckled.  “Let me go check on the boy it’s getting late.”

“I’ll see you, Ben.  I ain’t yelled at hardly anyone all day so I’ve got to find Cody — he’s around here somewhere,” Fletcher announced and kicked at his horse’s sides.

*** Old Fletcher Ben thought to himself and smiled.  Well, I guess Cody is fair game since Joseph isn’t around.  That man’s going to get an earful, that’s for sure! *** “Let’s go, Buck.”

---

Little Joe had chased the one remaining stray that he had been trying to get a rope around all afternoon.  He had been able to get a lasso around every calf he’d gone after all day but one and he wasn’t going to let it get the better of him.  Joe spotted the tracks as it had gone around the small stream and headed into the dense forest.  Finally, he saw it and realized that the calf had gotten tangled up in some thick underbrush.  Joe reined Cochise back and jumped from his saddle.

“Now maybe you know why you need to stay with your momma,” Little Joe said to the calf as he released it from the trappings of sticks and thick brush there on the ground.  He wrapped the end of his lariat around its neck and looped the other end around his saddle horn.

Before climbing back atop his horse, Joe’s attention was drawn over to his right side.  There was the opening of a cave which had almost gone undetected due to numerous fallen branches and thick overgrowth around the area.   Wondering why he’d never noticed it before; Little Joe tied his reins to a heavy branch lying on the ground and ventured closer to the mouth of the cave.  He decided to go inside and check it out to see how deep it went.

---

Ben had ridden all over the area where his foreman had pointed out to him but hadn’t spotted his youngest anywhere.  He had just about decided that the boy must have headed for home when he spotted Cochise and the calf standing alongside her.  Ben quickened Buck’s pace and soon was next to his son’s horse.  Dismounting, he looked around for his son but didn’t see him anywhere.

“Joseph!”  Ben shouted and waited to hear his boy’s reply.  It hadn’t come.  Only then did Ben realize where he was.  He turned around and looked at the opening of the cave.  Shaking his head, his face took on an all too familiar appearance of foreboding.  Coincidentally it just happened to be the cave where he had found his son some twelve years ago.  Ben hadn’t been back there since that day and had hoped that the heavy overgrowth would camouflage it like it had been twelve years prior.  He never wanted to see the place again but apparently fate had brought both Cartwrights there that day.

After he had secured Buck’s reins to the same fallen branch that held Cochise’s, Ben reached inside his saddle bags and pulled out a tallow candle that had been left inside.  His heart sank in his chest as he drew closer to the opening and lit it.  Stepping inside, Ben called his son’s name again but only heard the echo of his own voice.

“Joseph!”  He shouted out once more as he made his way deeper inside the cave.  It wasn’t long until he was at the same spot where he had found the boy years ago.  There on the floor of the cave lay the broken remnants of the cage that had held Joseph as a prisoner.  Also there, sitting cross-legged on the ground, was Little Joe.

“Joseph?” Ben whispered, kneeling next to him.  “You okay, Boy?”

Little Joe still sat there as though he hadn’t heard his father’s voice.  His eyes staring into nothingness, the boy slowly rocked back and forth; a fearful reminder of the way he had found his son on that fateful day.

“Son?  Joseph – can you hear me?” Ben continued and set a hand onto Joe’s shoulder.

Finally, the boy spoke out in a hushed tone of voice, “He – he took it – he shouldn’t have.  It was mine.”

“What?  Who took what, Joseph?”

“The bad man – he took my best one,” Little Joe whimpered.  He lifted his left hand and combed his fingers through his bangs, pulling them out from his forehead.  “Papa the bad man – he tooked it.”

Ben felt his breath leave him as he was suddenly catapulted back in time.  Up until that moment he had forgotten all about what his five-year-old had told him one night a couple of weeks after he had been found.  Ben closed his eyes as he recalled the boy’s tearful confession.

---

The sound awakened the sleeping father in the middle of the night.  His hand swept across the covers searching frantically for the little boy who had been sleeping right alongside him earlier.  Unable to find Little Joe, Ben reached over to his nightstand and turned the wick knob of his lamp.  Soon the room was bathed in the soft glow from the light.  The boy wasn’t up on the bed.  Feeling overwhelmed with a familiar dread, Ben jumped off the bed and peered around the room to where the sound was coming from.  There, in one of the corners of his room Ben spotted Little Joe sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest.

“Joseph?”  He called out to his son and hurried over to him.  “What are you doing down there, Boy?”

“He – he tooked it –,” came the quiet stuttered response.

Ben went down on one knee and pulled the boy’s chin up so he could see his face better.  There were tears streaming down Joe’s cheeks.  “He?  Who, Son?”

“The bad man—he tooked it,” Joe answered staring into his pa’s compassionate eyes.

“He took what, Joseph?” Ben responded with confusion framing his expression.

“My curl, Papa – he tooked my best curl,” Little Joe cried and put his left hand up to his forehead.  The little fingers combed through his bangs and then looked sadly up at his father.

Ben drew in a deep breath and gathered the boy up into his arms.  He walked back to the bed and sat down, placing Little Joe in his lap.  Softly caressing his son’s cheeks, Ben pushed back the advancing tears from his face.  “Now you tell your Pa what’s got you so worked up.”

“This,” Little Joe whispered and pulled his bangs up to show his father.  “My best curl – he tooked it.  He shouldn’t ought to have done that, Papa.”

Staring at the boy once more he wondered if the child had been in the middle of a nightmare and couldn’t shake himself out of it.  But then he saw that there was a slight gap in the boy’s bangs he hadn’t noticed before then.  He gently separated the curls and could tell that a few were missing as though they had been cut off.

“Did the bad man cut those curls off, Joseph?” He questioned softly, trying to sound in control of the situation even though an almost uncontrollable feeling of rage was surging in his chest at that moment.

Little Joe nodded and his sad hazel eyes burnt their way into his father’s heart.  “He tooked them, Papa.  He shouldn’t ought to do that – it was my best curl.  Mama said my best curl was this one,” Little Joe pointed in the middle of the section that his father was combing through with his fingers.  “It’s gone, Papa – he tooked it out.”

Drawing his child to his chest, Ben squeezed his eyes closed to stop the appearance of tears.  It was bad enough that he was worried about his little boy he didn’t need the painful remembrance of the woman who he had loved.  Their child had been stolen and, had Marie lived, she would have been absolutely inconsolable if Joseph hadn’t been returned to them.

“Well — Joseph – you know what?” Ben fought to offer the boy a smile though pulling one up onto his lips had to be the hardest acting job he’d ever had to do.

“What, Papa?” He asked between sobs.

“Young Man, you have the kind of hair that grows faster than anyone else’s on this ranch— and maybe in all of Nevada too!  Why I’ll just bet you that within a few weeks your best curl will grow right back – and a whole lot of other curls will grow back right next to it.”

“But it’s gone, Papa,” Little Joe replied sadly as he pulled himself back some so he could look directly into his father’s eyes.  “He shouldn’t have tooken my best curl – right, Papa?”

Ben patted his son’s back and pulled him to his chest again as he held onto the boy.  “No, Son, he shouldn’t have “tooken” it,” he replied using the same vernacular as Little Joe had used.  “It was your curl and he shouldn’t have done that.  And he shouldn’t have taken my little boy away from me either.  But I have you back now – and here you’ll stay.  And you’ll get that curl back too.  Now – how about the two of us lay back down?”

Little Joe simply nodded his head and waited for his father to lean back and pull him onto his shoulder.

“Now how about the two of us try to get some shuteye, okay?” Ben crooned as he gathered the little boy into his arms settling Joe’s head onto his shoulder.

“I hope it comes back, Papa,” Little Joe whispered.  He briefly closed his eyes as Pa’s fingers tenderly wiped away the last of his tears.

“It will, Son,” Ben reassured and softly stroked the curls that were on the top of the boy’s head.  “Joseph?  Why didn’t you tell me before now about your best curl having been taken?”

“I don’t like to talk about the bad man, Papa,” his reply came out filled with fear.  “I get a- scared.”

Ben had to hold back a smile over the way that Little Joe had always gotten the words “afraid” and “scared” mixed up and he usually blended them together.  “You don’t have anything to be afraid of now, Son.  I’m not going to let anyone take you away ever again,” Ben insisted and hugged his child.   “If there’s anything else that you want me to know – will you tell me, Joseph?”

“I don’t like the bad man, Papa – but I liked my friends,” Little Joe answered.

“Your friends?  Who?  Are you talking about your brothers and Hop Sing?”

Little Joe shook his head and yawned.  “No, Papa – my friends where the badman was.”

Ben wondered how he could ask his boy for answers without scaring him further.  He decided to just phrase his question as calmly as possible and maybe he’d learn if the bad man, as Joseph called him, had accomplices.

“How about telling your Pa about those friends of yours?  What did they look like, Joseph?”

“It was dark, Papa – I couldn’t see them too good.”

“I understand— how about telling me something that you liked about them?  You called them your friends so there must’ve been something that you liked about them, right?”

Little Joe nodded again and replied, “They were nice and warm.”

Ben shook his head, not knowing what the boy was talking about anymore.  “Oh?  They were warm?”

“Yep.  They laid on my chest, Papa, and they were warm.  I was so cold, Papa.”

Now his face was the picture of confusion and Ben didn’t know what to ask.  He finally continued.  “Joseph – how many friends did you have?”

“Two, Papa – and they were warm and had soft fur too.”

“Oh,” Ben sighed and had to hope that the boy was referring to either puppies or kittens.  He was almost too afraid to ask but he finally relented.  “Son, were they cats or dogs?”

“No, they had red eyes, Papa. Everybody knows that cats and dogs don’t have red eyes.”

Ben reached his right hand up to his mouth and hoped he would be proven wrong in what he was about to ask the boy.  “Joseph— those friends of yours – were they perhaps mice?”

Little Joe snuggled down in the crick of his father’s neck just underneath his chin.  “No, Papa – they were bigger.   They had fur like a mice – but they were bigger and warmer.”

Ben cleared his throat, so worried over what his son had just explained to him.  “Joseph?  Your friends didn’t by any chance bite you, did they?” Ben prayed that the boy hadn’t been bitten.  He now knew that it had been a pair of rats which had spent time on his son’s chest there inside the cave.

“No, Papa, they were my friends.  Friends don’t bite friends, Papa,” Little Joe answered innocently and closed his eyes.

*** Well thank the Good Lord for that! *** Ben thought to himself and combed his fingers through the boy’s hair to get him to settle down.  “That’s right, Boy.  Now – is there anything else you want to tell your Papa about your friends?”

“No, Papa — I think I’m tired.  And I don’t like talking about the bad man so can we only talk about my best curl coming back?”

Ben reached down and kissed the little boy’s forehead and smiled.  “That’ll be fine, Joseph.  Now you go on and try to sleep.  No more getting down from this bed unless you wake me first, okay?”

“Okay, Papa, I won’t get down no more until you do.  But you got to wake me up if you get up, okay?  I don’t wanna be here alone – this bed’s too big for me without you in it.”

“Don’t you worry about that.  I won’t go anywhere without you, Boy.  Now close those eyes for me,” Ben grinned over what his son had just relayed.  He knew that Joseph was still afraid of being alone, almost as much as he had been when the little boy had disappeared from the bed earlier.

“I love you, Joseph.  Now you have sweet dreams,” Ben whispered and dropped the wick to the lamp down a bit more.

“I love you, Papa — and I hope my best curl comes back in the morning.”

“Well, it won’t be back by morning, Boy, but it’ll be back real soon,” Ben nodded and closed his eyes.  Though he doubted that he’d be able to sleep due to what the boy had just told him.  It was bad enough to know that someone had dared to cut his little boy’s curls off his head but the very idea that rats had crawled up onto Joseph’s chest filled him with such revulsion that he felt physically ill.  *** Oh, Joseph – what did that evil man do to you while you were in that cave? *** He wondered as his eyes suddenly flashed open and he stared down at the little boy sleeping soundly in his arms.

---

Ben stared over at his seventeen-year-old son sitting against the wall of the cave.  It was easy to see that Joseph had been swept up in latent memories of what had happened twelve years earlier.  He again reached for the boy’s arm and gently pulled him up.  The weary father placed his arm around his son’s shoulder to guide him.

“Come on, Son, let’s get you out of here,” Ben called down to Joe and turned him around.

Together the two of them walked out of the cave and into the retreating daylight outside.  Ben blew out the candle and looked over at the boy.

“Pa?” Joe questioned with confusion well written all over his face.  “Pa, what are you doing here?”

Staring pensively over at his son, Ben could tell that he had no recollection of having been inside the cave.  The instant that the two of them had made it out into the light of day it appeared that Joe was back to his normal self.

Ben gave a nervous cough and hedged just a minute to come up with a good answer.  “Oh, I was out this way and ran into Fletcher.  He told me that you were rounding up the last of the strays so I thought I’d just catch up with you so the two of us could ride home together.”

“Sounds good, Pa,” Joe smiled as he reached for his lariat.  “I found this little guy stuck in some of this brush,” he explained and them caught sight of the cave.  “Hey, Pa?  I never knew there was a cave on this part of the ranch, did you?”

Watching as the boy vaulted up onto Cochise, Ben nodded over to him.  “Oh – yes, I guess I first noticed it a few years back.”  He hoped that his son hadn’t heard the noted hesitation in his reply.

“I wonder if it’s one of those caves where the Paiutes used to make camp?”

Ben shrugged his shoulders and then mounted his horse.  “I’m not sure, Joe.”

“Maybe I ought to come out here sometime and check it out?  A few years back Mitch and I found some old pottery in a cave near his place.”

Ben’s eyes grew wider and he replied, “Joseph—well – I’d prefer you not do that.  You know this time of year bears seem to frequent this area since it’s close to that river just over that rise.  The fish that are in there attracts them. You don’t need to get surprised by one of them.”

“I can watch out for bears, Pa.  I’ve got a gun you know?” Joe volleyed back.  At times he felt like his father was a bit too overly protective of him.

Reaching across his saddle, Ben patted his son’s shoulder.  “Just humor me, will you?  I don’t want to lose you just because you’re too curious for your own good.  And if you want old pottery so badly, we have a bunch of it in our kitchen.”

Little Joe groaned and shook his head over what Pa had said.  It seemed like he was trying a bit too hard to keep him from exploring that cave.

“Alright,” Joe conceded with a frown.  He wondered why his father seemed so adamant in his insistence that he stayed away from the area.  “I guess I’ll go cut this calf in with the herd.”

“Thank you for humoring me,” Ben smiled as he reached over and patted the boy’s arm.  “Now let’s go take that calf of yours back and then head on home.  Like as not your two brothers will make it in before we do.”

Little Joe grinned and kicked lightly at Cochise’s sides.  “I hope Hoss doesn’t make it to the supper table before me tonight.  He just about starved me out last night eating all those spuds before I got to them, Pa!”

Ben chuckled even though it was hard to pretend that he was in good spirits at that moment.  But he didn’t want the boy to read what was behind his forced smile.  Ben turned in his saddle and cast a quick parting glance back towards the cave.  Having gone in there again after so many years had only increased his worry over his son’s odd behavior.  The past and the present were starting to blend themselves together far too much lately, and it wasn’t getting any easier to pretend that all was well around Joseph.

---

“Did either of you know that there was a cave down there?” Little Joe asked his brothers as they sat at the dinner table that night.  He had already mentioned the calf which had gotten tangled in the underbrush and that he’d found a cave that he’d never spotted before.

Adam looked across the table where he noticed his father’s piercing stare was directed at both him and Hoss.  He understood why.

“Yeah – I think I was there a few years back – but never gave it much thought,” Adam nodded over to Joe.

“What about you, Hoss?”

Setting his water glass down, Hoss also sent a quick glance towards his father before answering his brother.  “There’s a lot of those old caves all around the Ponderosa, Short Shanks.  I don’t pay no mind to them.”

Clearing his throat, Ben attempted to change the subject for obvious reasons.  “Did you two get many of those trees marked for cutting today?”

“Yeah, Pa,” Hoss nodded, fighting a grin over the way his father had steered the conversation away from the cave where his brother had been held years ago.  “We got us a good start.”

“I figure we’ll have them all marked in two days, Pa,” Adam offered, also glad that they had moved off the topic.

“None of you are even a little bit curious about that cave?”  Joe wasn’t going to let the subject go, as he examined the three faces.  “I bet there’s stuff buried inside of it – just like there was in that cave we found on Mitch’s ranch.”

“Joseph, I said no exploring,” Ben reminded his son.  “The only thing you’ll get for your trouble is probably an angry old mother bear.”

Little Joe frowned and set down his fork.  “Yes, Sir,” He sighed defeatedly.  “I’m kind of tired – think I’ll turn in.  Good night.”

“Good night, Son,” Ben called as the boy stood and walked away from the table and headed up to his bedroom.  He waited until he heard Little Joe’s door closing before turning his attention to Adam and Hoss.  “Thank you both for not encouraging your brother.  I don’t want him anywhere near that cave.”

“So?  Is that where you found Little Joe, Pa?” Hoss asked after witnessing the heavy concern spreading across his father’s face.

Ben reached for his wineglass and took a few sips, hoping to quell his growing fears over his youngest son.  “Yes – he was inside of it when I came up upon him today.”

“Did he say anything about it, Pa?  Do you think he remembered anything about his abduction?”

“That’s just the thing, Adam – it’s the first time that Joseph has ever had one of his spells in the daylight.  I got there and he was sitting right where we found him twelve years ago.  He was talking about the bad man – and he was acting like he was five years old again, still caught up in that horrible memory of what happened to him.”

“What’d he say?” Hoss continued, his worry for his little brother very evident in his tone of voice.

Ben shook his head wearily and sighed.  “He was talking about losing that curl – the one he said that the bad man cut off.  I’d forgotten all about that – it was so long ago that he told me about it.  The remnants of that cage where Joseph was held were lying next to where he was sitting and it was hard for me to stay quiet about it this time.  I relived those memories along with the boy before I finally pulled him out of there.”

Adam could see how the experience had affected his father.  “What happened when you brought him out?”

Shrugging his shoulders helplessly, Ben replied, “He just went back to normal – with absolutely no recollection of having been inside of the cave.  Joe said he wanted to go back there and explore it!  I told him that I didn’t want him anywhere near that place.  If he brings it up to either of you – I’d appreciate it if you’d discourage him.  Nothing good can come of it – and it might make the situation worse.  I can only imagine what would have happened today if someone else had found your brother there – it frightens me because he was so confused that he could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I guess the three of us had better listen out for the kid again tonight, huh?”

“Yes, Adam – in case he wakes up like he’s done the past few nights,” Ben nodded and tried to tap down the fear he had been experiencing ever since going back inside the cave.  “If either of you hear him get up – well – come and wake me.”

Hoss reached over and set a big hand on top of his father’s arm and nodded, “Don’t worry, Pa – it’ll be over soon.  It’s usually only a couple of nights and then Little Joe won’t be getting up and going into the kitchen to hide.”

“I hope so,” Ben responded and went back to his wine to calm his frayed nerves.

---

Both Saturday and Sunday nights had been blessedly uneventful, and Ben was beginning to believe that Joseph’s treks to the kitchen to hide from the bad man were now finally over; at least for that year.  He wondered if they would come back again perhaps when the boy was nineteen, but he pushed away that worry for the time being.  Monday Adam and Hoss had busied themselves marking the timber for cutting while Joe had ridden out with Fletcher and Cody to work with the large herd.  All three of his sons had come back home early that evening and they were all played out by the time supper was over.  Little Joe had turned down Hoss’ offer to get in a couple of games of checkers and had gone to his room just before nine that night.  Ben’s two older boys had followed suit shortly thereafter and he turned in around ten o’clock.

“Pa?” Hoss called as he tapped on his father’s bedroom door.  “Pa – we need your help with Little Joe.”

Sitting up in his bed, Ben turned the wick of his lamp up a bit and stared at the bedside clock.  It was three in the morning.  He hurriedly reached for his robe and didn’t even take the time to get into his slippers.  Hoss’ voice had an urgent quality to it.

“What is it – is the boy downstairs again?” Ben asked groggily as he made his way into the hall.

Offering a quick nod to his head, Hoss replied, “Yeah – but neither Adam or me can get him to budge and he’s fighting us tooth and nail, Pa.  I didn’t want to wake you — Adam and me wuz trying to pull him out from the corner of the kitchen.  I guess you’d better go down there.”

“What’s wrong with your hand?”

Hoss frowned as he pointed to the kitchen towel which he had wrapped around the palm of his right hand.  “Little Joe bit me, Pa.”

“He bit you!” Ben exclaimed.  “Is it bad?” He reached for his son’s hand, concern spreading across his face.

“Naw— it ain’t too deep – but that kid drew blood.  That’s why Adam sent me up here to fetch you.”

Ben walked alongside his middle boy as they hurried down the staircase and across the living room.  Turning into the kitchen they heard Adam still trying his best to pull his brother out from his hiding place next to the sink.

“Come on, Joe – it’s okay – let me pull you up!” Adam insisted, still trying to get a good grip on his brother’s arm.

“No!” the pitch of Little Joe’s voice was higher than usual when he had one of his spells, something that his father noticed right away.

“I’ve got it now, Adam,” Ben called quietly as he went down on one knee close to where his youngest was sitting.

Adam sighed as he dropped a hand onto his father’s shoulder.  “Pa – I tried the best way I knew how – but he’s fought me every time I got a good hold of him.  It’s been like trying to wrestle a bobcat!  Oh, after he bit Hoss, he smacked his head on the wall when I was trying to lift him, Pa.  I think the kid’s alright – but he might have a good lump in the morning.”

Nodding, Ben turned back to Hoss and called to him, “Put something on that bite, Hoss, and you two go back to bed.  I’ll manage.”

Hoss and Adam exchanged hesitant glances and then looked back down at their father.  “You sure, Pa?  I can lug Joe upstairs for you – that is if I can get my hands underneath him without him biting me again!”

Shaking his head, Ben shooed both of his sons away.  “No – go on.”

Both men turned and walked out of the kitchen feeling discouraged by their failure to get their brother up to his room without waking Pa.

Placing a calming hand onto his son’s shoulder, Ben called quietly, “Let me see what you’ve done, Joseph.”  He placed a hand onto the back of the boy’s head, his fingers inspecting it carefully for injuries.  “You’ve worked yourself up quite a knot, Young Man.  Now what’s got you so stirred up?”

“The bad man – he’s here, Pa,” Little Joe insisted and shoved his back up against the wall.

Ben’s face was filled with confusion after hearing what the boy had said.  He’d never heard Little Joe use those words when he had sought shelter in the kitchen before.  “No, Son, the bad man is gone.”

“The bad man is here, Pa,” he corrected as he cast a wary glance around the kitchen.  “He’s here.”

Following the boy’s gaze, Ben lifted the lamp that Adam had left on the floor.  He took a good long look just in case Joe had really seen something that maybe everyone else had missed.  He didn’t notice anything out of place and the door was still bolted shut.

“Joseph,” he paused, as he gently eased the palm of his right hand onto the boy’s cheek.  “Son – let’s go on up to your room.  Everything’s okay.”

Leaning forward, Little Joe’s eyes darted back and forth and then he whispered, “The bad man is here – don’t let him get me, Papa.”

Ben swallowed hard upon hearing what his son had just said and in the tone of voice he had used.  Joseph never called him Papa – not since he was a small child – unless he was trapped deep inside those memories of time spent with the evil man who had abducted him.

“I’m right here and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you or take you away ever again, Joseph.  Now – let’s get you to bed.”

With a voice that was steeped in absolute terror, Joe cried out, “The bad man is here, Papa!”

Not knowing what else he could do, Ben reached for his son’s right arm.  “Come with me now – and I’ll get you all settled.  There’s nothing to be afraid of.  Your Pa’s right here, Joseph.”

Joe resisted the hold that his father had on his arm and quickly pulled it away.  “No!”

Ben carefully studied the situation, trying to determine what the best approach would be since the boy was fighting everyone that night; including him.

“Joseph?” He called quietly.  “Do you see him?”

Little Joe nodded his head, his eyes suddenly reflecting the terror he was experiencing.

“Where is he?”

Pointing to the kitchen door, Little Joe held his left index finger to his lips and whispered, “He’s gonna come soon and take me away again, Papa.”

Trying to appease the boy, Ben pulled himself to his feet and walked to the door.  He touched the slide bolt and turned back to look at his son.  “It’s secure, Joseph – no one can get in.  You’re safe now.”

“The bad man always finds me, Papa,” Little Joe whimpered.

Turning back to his son, Ben knelt next to him and held out his arms.  “No – he’s not going to find you, Joseph.  Let’s go up to your room and I’ll make sure he never comes back.  Okay?”

Hesitating for a few minutes, Little Joe finally reached out to his father and felt the man pulling him into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” Ben whispered and locked the boy tightly inside his embrace to offer Joseph the security that he needed and to calm his fears.  Then he slowly pulled Little Joe up out of the corner.  He wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulder and walked him into the next room

Once they had gotten to the staircase, Little Joe stopped in his tracks and looked over at his father and said, “The bad man is coming, Papa.”

“No – no he’s gone, Joseph.  He’s not coming back ever again,” Ben returned and coaxed his son up the stairs.

Adam and Hoss stood in the hallway waiting to find out what had happened downstairs when they spotted their father and brother heading their way.  Not wanting to spook the boy, they simply stepped aside as Pa maneuvered Little Joe back inside his bedroom.

“You think we ought to go in there?” Hoss asked his brother.

Shaking his head, Adam returned, “No, Hoss – go on back to bed.  Pa’s got Joe inside his room now – and most likely he’ll stay in there until he’s sure that the kid won’t leave again.  Might just as well get some sleep.”

Still wishing that he could do something to help both his father and little brother, Hoss finally nodded and turned into his room.

“Close your eyes, Joseph.  That’s it – go back to sleep,” Ben whispered as he softly caressed the boy’s curls, attempting to lull him back into slumber.

“The bad man – is here,” Little Joe insisted one final time before his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.

Ben shook his head and sighed as he sat down in the chair next to the boy’s bed.  With his worry heightening due to what was happening to his youngest, he decided to go and talk to Doc Martin later that day.  Ben wondered if there might be a way to control what was going on with Joe, even if that meant giving him some kind of medication so he would sleep through the night.  Anything had to be better than watching his son going through nightly bouts of trauma.  Ben tried to get comfortable in the chair since he had no intention of leaving the boy due to the fear that he might get up again.  After an hour of staring over at Little Joe, he finally fell off to sleep.

---

“Here,” Ben said as he passed first Hoss and then Adam another cup of coffee.  Both of his older boys looked exhausted due to what had transpired earlier that morning.

“Pa – what’re we going to do about Little Joe?” Hoss asked as he accepted the coffee and took a good long sip.

Ben let out a tired sigh and thought about how he was going to answer the same question he had already mulled over all morning long.  “I’m going into town today and talk to Doc about what’s been going on and ask him if we should give your brother some kind of sedative so he won’t get up during the night.”

Adam stared across the table at his father and could see he was worn out due to all that Joe had been putting him through.  “I think that’s a good idea, Pa.  Hopefully Doc can give Little Joe something to make him sleep soundly. There’s just no telling how many more nights the kid’s going to keep waking up and heading into the kitchen.”

Ben was about to respond when he spotted his youngest descending the stairs.  He signaled both of his sons to change the subject as Joe walked over and took a seat next to him.

“Good morning, Son.”

“Morning,” Little Joe answered, his voice sounding unusually subdued.

“How did you sleep?” Ben questioned, pouring a cup of coffee for the boy and passing it over to him.

Little Joe rubbed at the back of his head and replied, “Not so good, Pa.  Somehow, I must’ve smacked the back of my head on something while I was sleeping.  I’m surprised that it didn’t wake me up.”

Reaching over, Ben felt the back of his son’s head just like he had done earlier that morning while Joe was sitting on the floor and protesting being taken out of the kitchen.  “You’ve got quite a knot there, Joseph,” he remarked shaking his head.

Adam and Hoss exchanged knowing glances but didn’t say a word about the fact that they’d heard their brother’s head hitting the wall behind him there in the kitchen during the lengthy battle that morning.

“Must’ve been your headboard,” Ben nodded to Joe and watched the strange expression on the faces of his older boys.

“I guess,” Joe nodded and then noticed the bandage Hoss was wearing on his right hand.  “Hey – what’d you do to your hand, Hoss?”

“Oh – this?”  Hoss asked and tried to think up a good excuse to offer his brother.  “I – well – I got bit.”

“Bit?” Joe returned, his eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Bit by what?  You didn’t have a bandage on your hand at supper last night.”

Ben stared at his middle boy and wondered how he was going to answer his brother’s question and avoid telling him the truth.

“A critter – out in the barn this morning, Little Brother,” Hoss tried his best to sound believable.

Adam smiled as he waited to see if Joe was going to let that be the end of the subject.

“I didn’t think anything ever got the best of you, Hoss.  What kind of a critter sunk its teeth into you?” Joe continued, noticing how everyone seemed to be far too quiet that morning.

Hoss frowned.  He couldn’t think up fibs as easily as his little brother and he was having a tough time coming up with a believable lie.

“It ain’t bad, Little Joe – not worth mentioning.”

“What?  Is it some kind of a secret?” Joe persisted staring from Hoss to Adam and then over to his father.

“I thought you told me that it was a Jackrabbit?” Adam jumped in to help his brother.

“Since when do Jackrabbits bite?” Little Joe fired back, not buying his brother’s story.

Ben cleared his throat, interjecting, “Joseph – please eat your breakfast – it’s getting cold.”

Frowning, Little Joe picked up his fork and began to eat the eggs on his plate.  He wondered why it seemed like everyone around the table was acting so strangely.

“We’re going to finish marking those trees today, Pa,” Adam tried to change the much-contested subject.

Ben appreciated the conversation being steered away from Hoss’ hand and replied, “That’s fine, Son.  I’ve got to go into town today, so I’ll see you boys later.”

“Pa?  I’m not really needed out with the herd today – how about I go into Virginia City with you?” Joe asked hopefully.

Knowing that he’d have to talk to Doctor Martin without his youngest knowing anything about why he was going there, Ben thought of an excuse why the boy couldn’t tag along with him.  “Joseph – there’s wood to be cut and it’s your turn to do it.”

“I haven’t been to town since last Friday, Pa.  Can’t the firewood wait?”

“No, not this time.  And, after all, today’s only Tuesday – you were there just four days ago.  Don’t worry, you’ll be going into town by the end of the week,” Ben insisted.  He reached over to the boy and tugged at the three inches of hair that draped well past the collar of his shirt.  “You’ll be going to Virginia City so you can get a haircut, Young Man.”

“You said I have until Friday,” Little Joe complained as his father sent a knowing smile his way.

Ben nodded, “That’s right, Son.  But if I see all of this hair come Friday night you and I will be going to the barbershop together on Saturday so I can make sure your hair is cut very short!” He patted Joe’s shoulder as he let go of his locks.

Listening to the laughter coming from his two brothers didn’t help his disposition and Little Joe frowned over at them.

“Now, your brothers have their work to get to, and you’ve got over a cord of wood to split.  So, you three boys finish eating your breakfast.  I’ve got some papers to drop at the bank,” Ben announced as he stood from the table.   Witnessing Little Joe’s sullen appearance, he patted the boy’s back.  “It’ll be okay, Joseph – hair grows back – and no one on this ranch has hair that grows faster than yours!”

Sighing to himself, Little Joe looked back over at Hoss and asked, “So you’re telling me that a Jackrabbit hopped into a barn full of horses and took the time to sneak up on you just to bite you?”

Hoss groaned and shook his head, “Eat your dad burn breakfast and stop worrying me over that Jackrabbit!”

Adam chuckled as he watched the exasperation spread across Hoss’ face.  “Those Jackrabbits can be ornery, can’t they?”

Nodding his head, Hoss answered staring directly at the true varmint who had bitten him that morning, “Yeah, they sure can.  And if that dad gum Jackrabbit bites me one more time, I’m going to toss it into the horse trough and give it a nice long bath!”

Little Joe groaned.   He didn’t have any idea why his brothers were joking over the whole incident nor did he buy the story that Hoss had told him about getting bitten by a rabbit.  Deciding that it just wasn’t worth pursuing any further, Joe finished his breakfast and headed outside to begin cutting firewood.

---

“Ben!” the loud shout by Pete Wilson came out from inside the telegrapher’s window.

Turning around after just passing the man, Ben walked back over to him.  “Hi, Pete – how are you?”

“I’m fine.  I just spotted you a second ago and wanted to give you a wire that just came in this morning,” Pete said and handed Ben a piece of paper.  “It’s from that cousin you had visiting last week.”

Ben smiled over what the man had said.  Pete Wilson had held the position of local telegrapher for many years, and he just liked the job because he loved to gossip about the news that came across over the wire.  Ben presumed that Pete knew about everything there was to know about the comings and goings of everyone in the area.

“I always thought that hypnotists were nothing more than sideshow attractions, Ben.  But from what your cousin Harden says in that wire doctors have begun to put great stock into them now,” Pete remarked as he watched the man reading the contents of the telegram.

Shaking himself from what he’d just read, Ben stared up at Pete.  “Oh – I don’t know much about those kinds of things,” he remarked and hoped the vagueness of his response would suffice for the time being.

“Sounds like Harden thinks they can recover Little Joe’s memories.  It’s hard to believe that the boy hasn’t remembered anything that happened twelve years ago!  Why — I can still remember back then – I rode with Roy you know?  That was a real long seven days and we searched all over for the kid.  We never thought you’d get Little Joe back –”

Ben cut the man off, hoping to be on his way.  He didn’t want to discuss his son’s abduction.  “Yes – I remember,” he paused and stared into the man’s eyes, hoping to make his next statement resonate with the other man.   “Listen, Pete, Joseph doesn’t recall anything that happened to him, so I’d appreciate it if you’d not say anything to the boy about it.  Doc thinks it’s best if no one says anything about the abduction – or it might cause my son great harm.”

“Oh sure, Ben.  Yeah – I recall you telling me that awhile back.  Gee – wasn’t it about two years ago that Little Joe had a bout with walking in his sleep because of what he went through when he was five years old?”

Clearing his throat, Ben nodded to the man.  “That’s right.  Well – I’ve got to get to the bank.  Here you are,” he said and handed Pete a silver dollar for the wire and to shut him up.  *** Just who in the heck told Pete about Joseph’s sleepwalking?  Unless somehow, he was listening in on Paul and me two years ago.  Lord, don’t I have enough worries without that gossip running his mouth? *** Ben thought to himself as he started down the walkway heading to Doc’s.

“Bank’s the other way,” Pete sang out and pointed in the opposite direction from where Ben had been heading before he had been stopped.

Ben frowned, not wanting to have to explain that he was going to see Doctor Martin or Pete would have asked why.  “I am aware of that fact, Pete.  I’ve got errands to run before I go to the bank.  Thank you for the wire,” he said and hurried away before Pete could ask exactly where he was going and why.

---

Doctor Paul Martin poured two cups of coffee and sat down opposite his friend.  He reached for the telegram that Ben had shown him and read it for the second time.

“Well, Ben, if Little Joe is going through this again and it’s been as rough as you say it’s been, then I don’t think it’s such a bad idea to try to find out if this man can help the boy.  It does say that he’s a medical doctor who just happens to be trained in hypnosis.”

Setting his cup down on the table in the doctor’s office, Ben stared over at him.  “Paul, a few years back when we spoke about Joseph going to see a hypnotist you didn’t think it was such a good idea.  What’s changed?”

“For one thing Joe’s older – so I’m hoping that it won’t upset him as much as it might have when he was just a little boy.  But mostly I’m getting concerned that the boy might end up hurting himself – or one of you – if this persists.  I know you mentioned my giving you some sleeping powders – but I’d rather there was a more permanent solution to the problem.  Hypnosis is now held in higher regards than it was a few years ago too.   This Doctor Iverson is a well-trained professional from what your cousin said in that wire.  And since he just happens to be returning east shortly then, under those circumstances, maybe it’s something that you need to strongly consider.”

Ben leaned forward feeling apprehensive over the decision he was about to make.  “I don’t have long before I’m going to have to decide one way or the other, Paul.  Harden said the doctor would be here Saturday, and he’ll only be in Virginia City for a couple of days.  He explained the circumstances to Iverson, and he told Harden that he’s pretty sure that he can help Joe.  I guess it was a case of pure luck that my cousin read an article about that doctor while he was heading to San Francisco and then found him at the hospital where the man has been speaking at a convention there.  I’m going to have to send a wire to Harden before I head back to the ranch to let him know what I’ve decided to do about Joseph seeing Iverson.  If we go through with it, I only hope that it won’t cause the boy any further harm.”

“Hard to say,” Doc paused and read the worry etched across his friend’s face.  “But – well – if he were my son and he’d been going through this ever since he was five years old – I would go ahead and try whatever I could to help him over it.”

Ben drew in a deep breath and nodded, “You’re right – I guess it’s better than just waiting and worrying all the time.  Joe was so combative last night – and he was never like that before!  It’s always taken some coaxing by me – but he never fought me over getting him out of the kitchen like he did early this morning.  His wording was different too.  Joseph said that “the bad man was there”, not his usual “the bad man is coming” that he’s been saying for years.”

“You never know, Ben, Little Joe might recover those memories all on his own.  But there’s no way of knowing when or if that’s ever going to happen.”

“In your own opinion, do you really think he could recover them on his own?”

Paul shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I’d have thought he already would have recovered them after twelve years– but there’s just no way to predict when or if he’ll remember.  Your guess is as good as mine when it comes to that.  So, what are you going to do?”

Staring down at the wire sitting on the table, Ben sighed.  “I guess I’m going to chance it.  I’ll wire Harden to let this Doctor Iverson know that I’d like him to try to help Joseph.   I guess I’d better go write that wire and get it off before the man gets on the stage out of San Francisco tomorrow!”

“Here,” Paul reached behind him and grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper.  “Might just as well write it out now.  That way you won’t have to stand around and explain yourself to Pete.  No doubt he’d ask you a dozen questions about hypnosis while you’re trying to write your response if you do it over at his place.”

Ben grinned and nodded over to the doctor.  “You’re right about that, Paul,” he chuckled and then began to compose the telegram.

---

The barbershop door clicked open triggering a bright metallic jangle overhead.  Aram Cullen finished sweeping up the hair that was left on the floor by his last customer and looked up at Pete Wilson.

“Pete!” Aram sang out with a big smile on his face.  “I was about to close up – but I guess I have time for you.”

Pete walked over to the other man and reached out his hand.  The two men exchanged handshakes as Aram led him over to the barber chair.

“I sure do appreciate it, Aram.  The wife’s been after me for two weeks to get a trim, so I’d best not come home without one.  I would’ve been here earlier, but it was a busy day.”

Aram gave the barber cape a snap to dislodge any stray hairs that were left on it and then placed it around his customer.  “Oh, it’s no trouble – got to keep the wife happy, or no pie for you tonight, right?”

“For a bachelor you sure do know a lot about women,” Pete laughed and settled back in the chair.

“So, you’ve been pretty busy, huh?  Big news day is it?” Aram asked as he readied his shears and grabbed the comb.

“Yes, Sir, it has,” Pete sighed.  “I must’ve sent twenty wires today and received a dozen.  And for this town that’s quite a bit for a Tuesday, Aram.”
Slowly sectioning the head of hair in front of him, the barber watched the other man’s face through the mirror as he went on about his work.

“Anything important happening?”

“Well— let’s see,” Pete thought for a few minutes and continued.  “Mabel Blackburn’s daughter had twins last night – boy and a girl.  She lives in Sacramento you know?”

“Oh yes, I know Mabel well and I’ve met her daughter and son-in-law.  Any other news?” Aram continued to part the man’s hair and began to snip off an inch of new growth.

“Sheriff over in Gold Hill sent Roy some particulars about a thief that broke out of his jail.  But Roy said the sheriff in Carson City caught the man already.  I sent a reply for him just a few minutes ago.”

“Is that right?” Aram smiled as he listened to the other man drone on about his work.  As a barber he was used to the local gossip and Pete Wilson was well known to be one of the most proficient gossip tellers in town. “Roy’s supposed to come in for a trim this weekend – least ways that’s what he told me yesterday.  The man sure keeps himself busy.”

“Yep,” Pete agreed.  “Oh, then there were the wires back and forth to and from Ben Cartwright.   They took me awhile to copy down as long as they were.  I had to send Ben’s reply, and he waited around for the response from his cousin before going back to the Ponderosa.”

“Oh?  Ben came in for a haircut last Friday.  What was it about – buying more cattle?”

Pete shook his head and returned, “No – believe it or not that cousin of his – you met him at the party last week, didn’t you?” Pete stopped long enough to look up at the barber who had to move his shears at the last minute to avoid snipping the man’s ear due to his sudden movement.  Aram simply nodded and kept cutting the man’s hair.  “Well, he ran into this doctor who does hypnosis and he wired Ben to ask if he wanted him to see if that man could help Little Joe with his problem.”

“Didn’t know Little Joe even had a problem.  Well, other than his avoidance to getting into this chair of mine for a haircut,” Aram chuckled.  “What’s wrong with the boy, Pete?”

“Well, you remember back about twelve years ago when Little Joe got snatched right out of his house and went missing for a week?”

Aram shook his head and replied, “No – don’t remember that.  You said twelve years ago?”

“Yeah – matter a fact it was this time of the year too – the beginning of spring.”

Taking on a puzzled appearance, Aram finally nodded to his customer and said, “Oh – wait – twelve years ago.  Yes, that must’ve been when I was down in Texas at my uncle’s funeral!  As a matter of fact, my uncle passed away twelve years ago last week.”

“You missed a real serious situation, Aram.  You know how Ben Cartwright dotes on that youngest boy of his – always has.  He was fit to be tied when Little Joe got stolen right out from under his nose!  It had this whole town in an uproar.”

“You said the boy got stolen out of his house?  Funny, I never heard anything about it.  I must’ve gotten back a few weeks after they found Joe.  You mean nobody saw the man who did it?”

Pete shook his head and answered, “No – then just as soon as he heard about it, Roy got up a posse — naturally he asked me to ride with him.  I got Billy Kennedy to watch the office so I could go and help Roy.  But we couldn’t find Little Joe anywhere.  We all gave him up for dead once six days went by and there wasn’t even a ransom note.”

Aram changed out his shears for a straight razor and trimmed the hair at the nape of Pete’s neck.  “Well, what happened?  How did they finally find Little Joe?”

“A friend of Ben’s – a trapper named Jake Somers told the Cartwrights about a cave not far from their house and sure enough Little Joe was inside there all caged up like an animal.   The boy had a real time of it but thankfully he wasn’t hurt other than having a few minor cuts and bruises.  But it sure must’ve messed up that poor kid’s mind!”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because every so often Joe begins to sleepwalk.  I overheard Doc talking to Ben one day when I was going to drop him off a message.  Ben was explaining how, without any warning, Little Joe just starts walking in his sleep and always ends up right in the kitchen where he’d been taken by the kidnapper.  Seems it goes on for about a week or so and just stops.  From what I overheard, it happens every couple of years.  It must be happening again if Ben’s sending for that man now.”

Aram finished trimming the man’s sideburns and asked, “What does all of this have to do with that telegram?  I guess I’m not following along very well.”

“That doctor that Harden wired Ben about is a hypnotist like I said.   And he thinks he can help Little Joe finally remember who snatched him, so he’ll stop having these spells where he ends up talking out of his head and going to the kitchen.  Ben wrote him back and told Harden that he wanted the doctor to examine Little Joe just as soon as he gets into town.  Never know – maybe we’ll all finally find out who kidnapped the kid.”

Combing the man’s hair one final time, Aram stared at him through the mirror that faced them both.  “That’ll be good,” He paused and then regrouped a bit after hearing the harrowing tale that the man had just told him.  “When’s that doctor supposed to get into Virginia City, Pete?”

“Harden said Saturday,” Pete answered and watched as the barber untied the back of the cape so he could get out of the chair.  He thought on what he had just told Aram and frowned, growing concerned that he had talked out of turn.  “Listen, Aram — please don’t say anything about what I just told you.  Ben doesn’t want any of this getting out.  I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

Aram chuckled and patted the man on the back as he used his grooming brush on his neck to remove the loose hairs.  “Now, Pete – you know that anything that’s said in this barbershop doesn’t go anywhere beyond these four walls!  Relax,” He reassured the man.

“Thanks, Aram,” Pete sighed, relieved to hear what the barber had said.  “Here you go.  I appreciate it,” He handed the man fifty cents and nodded over at him.  “The wife’s going to be happy that you stayed open long enough for me to get presentable.”

“You tell Sarah Jane I said she’s welcome.  Have a good night, Pete,” Aram replied as he pocketed the money and went for his broom to sweep up what was left of Pete’s hair around the base of the barber chair.  It was time to close up shop for the day.

---

“Now, Joseph, it’s time you came out of there,” Ben stated firmly as he made yet another attempt to remove his son from his favorite hiding place in the kitchen.  After being lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that his youngest hadn’t made a late-night trip to the kitchen for the previous two nights, Ben was having a real time of it in trying to get Little Joe to budge.

“I don’t know, Pa,” Hoss sighed and shook his head.  Both he and Adam were sitting at the small kitchen table watching their father struggling to get the boy to cooperate.  “Maybe we ought to just leave him down here?”

Adam yawned and then added, “I think Hoss is right, Pa. It’s been over an hour now.  You need to get some sleep and the kid’s not going to let either of us pull him out of there no more than he’s going to let you.”

“Yeah, and I don’t want to get bit again neither,” Hoss remarked staring at his right hand.  It had just begun to heal, and he wasn’t about to chance going up against his brother’s teeth again.

“You both go to bed like I told you to do,” Ben answered, annoyed by what they had said.  He was growing frustrated and he didn’t need the added distraction from his sons.

Adam shook his head and stood from the table.  “Okay, Pa.  Good luck.”

“I still say you ought to just leave Little Joe there – it ain’t like he’s gonna hurt himself – unless he knocks a hole in the wall with that hard head of his!”

“Go to bed!” Ben replied sharply.  He watched as his sons made their way out of the kitchen and then turned back to stare at his youngest.

“Joseph, I’ve already walked to that door four times now and there’s no one out there.  All the doors in the house are bolted shut and the shutters are all latched.  Now how about you helping me out by coming out of there?”

“The bad man is here,” Joe returned in a hushed tone of voice and placed his back snugly up against the wall.  Then he reached both arms out, placing one hand on the side wall and the other against the oak frame of the cabinet under the sink to show that he wasn’t about to budge.

Groaning, Ben walked over to light the stove.  He decided that it was time to make some coffee as he was beginning to give up on the notion that there would be any sleep that night, at least not for him.  Once he turned his back on the boy, he heard him standing up.  Ben glanced over as Little Joe moved from the corner and made his way to the door.

Peering through the windowpane in the top half of the kitchen door, Little Joe whispered, “The bad man is here, Papa.”

*** Well, at least he’s up on his feet.  That’s a good start.  I’ve just got to keep him from going back into that darn corner again! *** Ben thought and carefully removed the coffee pot and set it aside.  He then eased over to stand next to the boy, gently placing his hand on Joe’s shoulder.  “Joseph,” Ben began softly and peered out of the top windowpane.  “I don’t see anyone out there.  It’s alright now – nothing for you to worry about.”

“The bad man always finds me – Papa,” he said, his voice laced with terror.

Not knowing what else to do, Ben wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him tight against his chest.  He hoped that Little Joe would feel more secure there in his embrace and then he could get the boy up to his bed.

“It’s going to be okay, Joseph,” He whispered and swiped a hand through the boy’s curls.  “Let your Pa get you up to your room now.”

Little Joe suddenly freed himself from his father’s arms and hurriedly ran to the corner of the room and pushed himself back as far as he could.

Ben groaned and walked across the room, returning the coffee pot back to the top stove lid.  He had decided to do what Hoss had suggested and leave Joe in the corner of the kitchen until it was dawn or the boy fell asleep.  But either way, Ben knew it would be a very long night for them both.

---

“What time did you get the kid up to his room, Pa?” Hoss asked as he sipped his coffee and stared over at his father who looked absolutely exhausted.

“Just before five, Son,” Ben yawned and reached for his fourth cup of coffee.

“You just can’t go on like this, Pa.  Joe’s young – but – well you need your sleep!” Adam protested.

“The doctor should be arriving in Virginia City tomorrow.  Hopefully we’ll have some luck with him.”

“How are you going to get Little Joe to go see him, Pa?  Have you thought of that?” Hoss continued.

“One day at a time, Son.  I’m too tired to think of anything beyond today right now.”

The three men turned when they heard Joe’s approach.  He looked just as tired as Ben was.  He plopped down in his chair and reached for the coffee pot without saying anything.

“How did you sleep, Joseph?” Ben asked, finding it humorous that he’d even bother to pose that question.  But he always wanted to find out if Joe might have recalled something that he’d done during one of his spells.

Groaning, Joe shook his head and returned, “I don’t know, Pa.  I had the strangest dreams.”

All the family exchanged hopeful glances that Joe had finally recalled something about his abduction and then Ben directed his attention back to his youngest.  “Oh?  What about, Son?”

“I don’t exactly know, Pa – it was like I was fighting somebody, but I couldn’t see who they were.  I must’ve tossed and turned all night because I sure feel like I didn’t sleep too well.”  Joe reached for a piece of toast and tossed it onto his plate.  Then he looked across the table at his brothers and noticed the strange expression on both of their faces.  “Why are you looking at me like that?  I said it was just a stupid dream.”

“We’re not looking at you, Little Brother – relax,” Hoss insisted.

Ben cleared his throat and chimed back in, “Your brothers have to go and help up at the mill today and I’ve got a lot of paperwork to sort through.   I believe you have something important to do today, Joseph.”

“Huh?”

“Haircut time,” Adam smiled over at Joe.

Little Joe sneered at his oldest brother and then looked pathetically at his father.  “C’mon, Pa – can’t that wait?”

“Yes,” Ben nodded.  “It can wait until tomorrow when I will personally hold your hand and walk you inside of that barbershop if you don’t go voluntarily today, Young Man.”

“I was sort of hoping that I could go by and see Mitch – haven’t seen him in a month, Pa.”

Ben patted his son’s shoulder and replied, “That’s fine – you go over and see him for just a little while and then I expect you to get that haircut.  Your week is up, Joseph.  And your hair is way too long!”

“Yeah – yeah – I know what you’re going to say already, Pa.  I look like a cheap river boat gambler,” Joe sighed and watched the amused faces of his two brothers.  “I’ll go after I talk to Mitch, Pa.”

“Good,” Ben smiled and reached for some more coffee.  He hoped to get a nap while his sons were gone but hadn’t wanted to announce it especially in front of Little Joe who might ask why he was so tired.

---

Little Joe had procrastinated going into town to get his hair cut as long as possible by staying at the Devlin ranch until four that afternoon.  Finally, yielding to the inevitable, he mounted Cochise and road the two miles into Virginia City.  Turning down C Street, he made it in front of the barbershop in time to see Aram outside sweeping the walkway.

“Hi, Mister Cullen, got time to give me a haircut?” Joe asked, swinging down from his saddle.

Aram looked over at the boy and smiled broadly, “Well, I was just closing up, Little Joe.”

Thinking that it was his lucky day after hearing what the barber had said, Joe replied, “Oh that’s alright – I’ll come back some other day.”

Aram laughed and shook his head.  “No, your Pa will be mad at me if I don’t give you that haircut that he’s been wanting you to have for months.  But I tell you what, Little Joe – would you mind using the hitching post back behind the shop?  If someone sees your pinto out here, they’ll think I’m still open and I want to close the shop right after I tend to you.”

“Sure,” Joe nodded, but wasn’t happy that the man had offered to cut his hair even though he was getting ready to close for the day.  He had hoped that Aram would’ve said no and that way he wouldn’t be in too much trouble with his father and wouldn’t be escorted by hand the next day to get his hair cut.  Joe pulled Cochise behind him and tied her reins up next to the barber’s personal quarters behind the shop.

Aram waited until Little Joe walked in the door and then turned the closed sign facing outward.  He also moved the slide bolt into the locked position before speaking to his customer.

“Make yourself comfortable, Little Joe.  Go hang up that holster there on the hatrack.  Then come on and climb up in my chair.”

“Yes, Sir,” Joe sighed defeatedly and unbuckled his gun belt, hanging it up along with his hat.  He somberly sat down in the barber chair as Aram shook out the cape and placed it around his neck.  No matter how many times he had gone to the barber in the past twelve years Little Joe hated to sit there and wait for the cutting to begin.  That day it was no different and he shifted uncomfortably in the chair trying to get ready to see his curls lying on the barbershop floor.

“Your hair hasn’t been cut in months, Joe,” Aram announced as he pulled the hank of hair out from underneath the cape.  “There’s a good four inches back here and that’s as long as I’ve ever seen it.  It’s no wonder that your Pa was ready to drag you in here by your ear like he told me last week.”

Little Joe stared into the mirror and saw the man inspecting the length of his hair.  “I don’t want you to cut too much off, Mister Cullen.  Could you just trim it about an inch or so?”

“If I only take off an inch your father won’t even know that you were in here, Little Joe.  Now stop fidgeting in that chair.  You’re far too nervous.  I know what I can do to calm you down some,” He announced with a smile.  Aram walked over to one of the two cabinets to his right.  He reached inside a jar and then moved back behind Little Joe in the chair.  “How about some candy?”

Little Joe shook his head and replied, “No thanks, I’m not especially fond of candy, Sir.”

Aram bent forward and whispered in Joe’s right ear, “All little boys love peppermint.”

Little Joe’s eyes flashed wide open upon hearing what the man had just said.  He felt as though someone had abruptly shoved him back against the chair and his head was beginning to swim.  Casting a wary glance into the mirror he could see Aram standing behind him, his lips twisted into a sinister grin.  Joe tried to speak but he felt as though his breath had suddenly been stolen from him.  It took a few seconds and then he stuttered, “You – you’re –”

“That’s right, Little Joe – I’m the bad man,” Aram nodded and then stuffed a rag filled with chloroform over the boy’s nose and mouth pressing down firmly.  Joe struggled for a few minutes, coughing violently and then gasping for air.  But it hadn’t taken the drug long to incapacitate the boy, causing his body to go limp as it sagged back against the barber chair.

Aram laughed as he removed the chloroform-soaked rag and patted the boy’s face.  “Well, I hadn’t planned on our next meeting to go quite like this, but I just can’t risk having you going to talk to that hypnotist tomorrow, Little Joe.  I always knew that I’d be carrying you off again someday, but not quite this way.  But I suppose you’ve just got to make do with what life hands you, right?  Now, I’ve got a horse to move, and then you and I are going for a little walk.  Now don’t go anywhere, okay?” He walked over to each window in the shop and pulled down all the blinds before going out the back door to get rid of one pinto pony.

---

Adam and Hoss stood out on the front porch and looked to the west where the sun was just beginning to set.  The two brothers had the same thought in their minds.  Little Joe should have been back a long time ago.

“Pa’s fit to be tied.  Little Joe was supposed to get his hair cut and come home before dark,” Hoss sighed, knowing the boy would probably be in trouble with their father now.

Adam laughed and patted his brother’s back, “What’s he worried that Joe ran away from home because he didn’t want to get a haircut?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him, Adam.  You know how much Little Joe hates to get his hair cut.”

“Well, Pa gave him an extra week to get it done.  Maybe he’s drowning his sorrow in a couple of beers at the Silver Dollar?”

Both men stopped talking when their father stepped out of the house wearing his coat and a big scowl on his face.

“I’m going after that boy.  If he’s not gotten that haircut, I’ll just take him for one tomorrow – but he won’t be able to sit in that barber’s chair when I’m done with him!  Staying out this late and worrying me like this!” he fumed.

Adam signaled Hoss with a tilt of his head.  They walked to the front hitching post to get their horses hoping to help their brother out of the fix he was in if Pa got a hold of him once they caught up with him.

Ben mounted Buck, the look of anger faded from his face as worry took its place.  He was scared that Little Joe might have had one of his spells and if his family wasn’t around and someone else was, he was worried that they wouldn’t know what to do for him.

“Let’s go!” Ben called as the three men turned out of the yard and headed into Virginia City.

---

Little Joe moaned as he rocked his head back and forth fighting to return to consciousness.  There was a heavy sickness in the pit of his stomach, and he was sure that he was going to vomit the minute he opened his eyes.  The blinding headache struck him the minute that he blinked his eyes a few times and everything looked as though it was upside down.  He couldn’t hold one rational thought in his head, confused due to the side effects of the chloroform which had done its job well.  Little Joe coughed and tried to pull his hands up to his face but realized he couldn’t feel either one of them.

“Where— where am I?”  Joe whispered and then coughed until he began to gag.  There wasn’t any answer and the darkness was only broken by one faint light from a kerosene lamp somewhere just out of sight.  Little Joe pulled his legs up to his chest still fighting the feeling of wanting to empty his stomach of the little bit he’d had for breakfast that morning.  As the dull effects began to wear off a bit more, he finally realized that his ankles were tied together and his wrists were held tightly behind his back by heavy rope that bound him to a support beam of some kind.

“Where am I? Who’s there!”  Joe’s attempt to scream was little more than a whisper due to his throat being so raw from whatever someone had used to render him unconscious.  He’d been in similar situations before, but never one where he felt so God awful physically.  If he hadn’t had a good amount of Cartwright blood flowing through his veins, Joe would have just given up, stopped fighting and surrendered to the will of whoever had knocked him out.  But that wasn’t the way he’d been raised.  Pa would expect him to fight to the bitter end no matter what and that’s exactly what Little Joe planned to do.  But now it was a waiting game. Joe knew that too.  Whoever had taken him would eventually show up, if for no other reason than to gloat that they’d gotten the jump on him.  Pa was going to have a pure fit when he didn’t return home on time and that one fact gave him the hope he needed.  He’d gladly incur the man’s wrath over his lateness if Pa would just come bursting into wherever the heck he was at the time.  *** Pa – I didn’t get that haircut you told me to get.  Yell at me – heck, give me a necessary talking to – whatever you want to do — but just come find me! *** Little Joe thought to himself and tried his best to settle back some, attempting to ease his fierce headache.  There was nothing else that he could do.

---

“I checked the livery, Sam Towers said Joe’s not been there today,” Hoss called out of breath as he met both Ben and Adam in front of the Silver Dollar Saloon.

Ben sighed wearily and answered, “We’ve checked The Silver Dollar and The Bucket of Blood and neither Sam nor Bruno have seen your little brother.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been up and down C Street and Cochise isn’t tied up to any hitching post anywhere.  I wonder if Joe just stayed at Mitch’s house?”

Shaking his head, Ben had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach which had grown as each minute passed by without spotting his youngest.  He just knew that the boy was in danger.  “I doubt Joseph would do that – no.  I sent him for a haircut — let’s go talk to Aram to find out if the boy made it there before we go jumping to conclusions.”

The three Cartwrights mounted their horses and rode down to the far end of the street.  Walking down the slight hill behind the barbershop, Ben peered around to see if Cochise was back there, but she wasn’t.  He stepped up onto the porch along with his two sons and knocked on the door.

“Sorry to bother you, Aram,” Ben began and offered an uneasy smile to the barber.  “We were just wondering if Joseph came in for a haircut today.’

Aram wiped his hands on the apron that was tied around his waist and stepped out onto the porch.  “No, Ben – haven’t seen Little Joe.  I was expecting him to come by, but he never showed up.  Is something wrong?  Anything that I can help you with?”

Ben drew in a quick breath and tried not to look like the petrified father that he was at the time.  “No thanks, Aram.  The boy could be heading home right now trying to think up a good story to tell me as to why he didn’t get that haircut.”

“If you’ll let me get my dinner off the stove, I’ll help you look for him?” Aram offered with a hint of concern on his face.

Reaching over to the man, Ben patted him on the shoulder and replied, “No – we’ll find the boy.  I just wanted to know if he made it to your place.  You go on back to your supper.  Sorry to have troubled you.”

“Ben, it’s no trouble and you just let me know if I can help you find Little Joe.  I sure hope he’s at home like you said.”

“Thanks.  Goodnight now,” Ben nodded to the man as he stepped off the porch with his two sons following closely behind.

“What do we do now, Pa?” Adam questioned as he watched his father’s head drop down to his chest.  He knew that the man was played out due to too many nights without sleep and his constant worry over Joe.

“I guess we head home to see if the boy made it back,” Ben sighed as he walked up the hill with his sons.

“You don’t reckon that Little Joe went out to that cave that he talked about exploring, do you, Pa?” Hoss asked.

Ben walked over to Buck and shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t have a clue, Hoss.  If he doesn’t make it home, I’ll come back here and talk to Roy, and we’ll get up a search party.”

“Pa – I’m going to ride by Mitch’s place.  I’ll be along shortly,” Adam announced as he mounted Sport.

“Find out what time Joe left – that is – if he ever made it there,” Ben returned and stared over at Hoss.  “Come on – let’s head back.”

Hoss and his brother exchanged fearful glances.  They were concerned about Little Joe, but they were also worried about their father.  If anything had happened to the boy, they knew that the man would grieve himself into an early grave.

---

Little Joe didn’t remember falling to sleep but he had.  Still suffering from the latent side effects caused by the chloroform, his body had given in to the desire to simply let go.  Even in slumber he couldn’t get away from what had been going on in his life for the past twelve years.  Little Joe dreamed of a cave and a cage that was there inside of it.  It was a haunting disjointed reminder of the trauma he had endured at the hands of someone known to him only as “the bad man”.  He couldn’t get past the terror of it.  His mind had played a trick on him for self-preservation.  Unable to deal with what he had gone through as a five-year-old, Little Joe’s subconscious had tucked all the frightening details away and every couple of years allowed the memories to surface where they played out only in his sleep.  In wakefulness he had never remembered all the trips he had made back to the same kitchen corner where he had been stolen away from all those who loved him.  Now he happened to be captured again by the same enigma who had tormented his mind for so many years.  Little Joe had a glimpse of that partial memory, but it had only lasted long enough to hear the bad man whisper “all little boys love peppermint”.  He had heard that same phrase so many times during the seven days he had spent locked in that cage and staring over at a man who wore a burlap sack over his head with only holes cut out of it for his eyes, nose and mouth.

“Wake up, Boy,” the man called as he kicked at Joe’s boots.  “Got you some supper.  I hope you like beans.”

Moaning, Little Joe blinked his eyes open, but his vision continued to be not much more than a blur.  The man who had awakened him looked as though he was standing inside of one of those funny mirrors he’d seen at the carnival that had been in Virginia City the past October.  Even the man’s voice seemed out of tune and high-pierced due to Little Joe’s mounting headache.

“I said it’s time to eat, Boy,” the man called again and kicked at Joe’s legs.

“Where – where am I?”  He asked and fought to keep his eyes open though his body begged him to go back to sleep.

Aram knelt next to the boy whose hands were wrapped behind him, tethered to one of the wooden support beams inside the basement of his house.  “Where do you think you are, Boy?”

“I – I don’t know,” Joe mumbled and tried to focus in on the man next to him.

Aram patted his prisoner’s cheek and laughed.  “Well, don’t fret yourself over it because you aren’t staying here long.  Now open your mouth so I can spoon some of these beans into you.”

Little Joe grimaced from the pain shooting out from behind his eyes and the tightness in the back of his throat.  “I don’t like beans,” He answered angrily and then felt transported back to another time in his life.  Little Joe had said those same words while he had been held inside a cage in that cave on the Ponderosa.  The man who had taken him had shoved a plate of beans in through the small opening he’d made in the bottom of it.  Suddenly he was caught up in the flood of memories that he had repressed.  He could feel the dampness of the dirt on the floor of the cave and heard that voice, the voice of the bad man.

*** “I don’t like beans.  I want my Papa!” Little Joe shouted.  He leaned back and then kicked his feet against the wooden bars of the cage.

“What happens to bad little boys?”  Aram asked staring down at the five-year-old.

“I ain’t bad – my Papa says I’m a good boy,” He answered full of both fear and anger.

“Well, do you ever want to see your Papa again?”

Little Joe dropped his head down as tears welled up in his eyes.  “I want my Papa,” he cried and pulled himself away from the wooden bars that held him.

“Then you’ve got to be a good boy.  And good boys eat their beans,” Aram insisted and pointed at the plate.

“If I eat, will you take me to my Papa?” Little Joe choked out, pushing back the tears which were leaving his eyes.

“If you are a good boy I will,” Aram nodded.

Little Joe stared down at the plate of beans.  He didn’t want to eat them, but he wanted to see his father.  He knew that if his pa was there that he’d get him out.  Sniffing back his tears, he sat cross-legged on the ground and slowly began to eat what was on his plate.

“Now that’s a good boy.  You eat up those beans, and I’ll give you a treat,” the man said and then reached inside his shirt pocket.   “That’s right, Boy, if you clean your plate, I’ll give you this.”

Little Joe stared over at the man who now knelt in front of him.  He was holding something in his hand.

“What – what’ll you give me?” he asked warily.

“I’ll give you this peppermint stick just as soon as you eat what I gave you.”

“I don’t like peppermint,” Little Joe announced adamantly as he tried to choke down the beans.

“You don’t like peppermint?” the bad man said.  “All little boys love peppermint!” ***

“I know who you are,” Little Joe muttered as he fought with the ropes which bound him to the post.

Aram laughed loudly and patted the boy’s head.  “Is that right? Who am I, Boy?”

“You’re him – the one who took me out of my house all those years ago. It wasn’t a dream after all,” He replied, his voice shaky.  He was certain that he was going to lose the battle to stay in control of his emotions.  Little Joe was confused by what had suddenly come back to him.  He couldn’t understand why he was having flashes of another time and place.  But he did remember those three words very distinctly.  Little Joe knew the name “the bad man” because it had haunted him for years, though only in his dreams.  Now it was beginning to dawn on him that those nightmares had been all too real.

“Why – why are you doing this, Mister Cullen?  Why?” He asked, still confused and fighting back the inner dread he felt inside.  Little Joe could feel his heart beating so rapidly that he didn’t know if it was due to the drug that the man had used to knock him out or if it was simply due to the fear that was beginning to take hold of him.

“No – no don’t call me Mister Cullen, Little Joe.  You gave me that nickname when you were five – let’s use that, okay?”

Joe swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the darkened basement hoping to find some means of escape.  He wiggled his fingers behind his back trying to get circulation back into them after being tied for so long.  “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you remember!  You called me the bad man.  I always like that – it had a nice ring to it.  Made me feel good to know that I’d scared you like that.  It helped keep you in line!”

*** “Who do you think I am, Boy?” the man wearing the burlap sack over his head asked the five-year-old who was staring up at him, whimpering in fear.

Little Joe looked through the wooden bars and answered, “You – you’re the bad man.  You make me have nightmares – Papa said so.”

Aram’s chest shook with laughter and nodded to the little boy.  “That’s right, Boy, I’m the bad man.  It’s good that you recognized me.  I cause all your nightmares.  Your papa was right about that.  So, you’d better be good!” ***

Joe closed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the memories from the time he’d spent in the cave.  But he couldn’t.  They were coming back to him with a vengeance, ransacking his thoughts, and he couldn’t stop them no matter how badly he wanted to.  Twelve years of suppressing the frightful experience had only preserved the memories intact.   They were just as terrifyingly real as they had been when he was a five-year-old boy standing there looking at the man in the mask.  Joe tried to will it all away so he could think of something he could do or say that might convince the man to untie him and let him go.  He decided to keep Aram talking and maybe jolt him back to being the kindly man he always thought he was.  “Why – I still don’t understand. Why do you have me tied up like this?  I never did anything to you – why?”

“I’ve been waiting a long time, Boy, a long time,” Aram offered a twisted grin.  “I was so surprised when I learned that you didn’t remember anything that happened in that cave where I held you twelve years ago.  Because you didn’t have any memory of it you sure helped me out!  Yeah, I was able to keep my shop open in Virginia City which allowed me to watch you grow up.  And you sure have, Little Joe,” he continued.  He reached over and ran his fingers through the boy’s curls.  “Yeah, I was going to wait to get my hands on you again, but it all worked out fine because it turns out now’s just the right time to do this.  Your hair is the perfect length.”

Little Joe shrugged away from the man’s touch and looked into his cold dark eyes.  He fought to piece together everything that had happened all those years ago and wondered why he had forgotten about being in the cave. Joe wondered why no one in his family had ever said one word about his former abduction.  Surely his father would have told him all about it.  Nothing was making any sense.

“I –I still don’t understand.  Why are you doing this?” he questioned, feeling as though his confusion had to be due to the chloroform because he didn’t understand one word that the man was saying to him.  Little Joe reasoned that either he was too drugged to follow along or that the man was just plain crazy.

Aram sat down cross-legged on the floor of his basement and smiled over at his prisoner.  “Well, I’ve been a barber for a long time, Little Joe.  And there’s one thing I know and that’s hair.  And you’ve got the finest hair of anyone who’s ever been in my chair.”

“My hair?” Little Joe returned incredulously.  He was beginning to believe that he was still asleep, and that it was all just some awful nightmare that he would eventually awaken from.

Laughing, the man reached his hand out and instead of stroking the boy’s curls, this time he grabbed a handful of Little Joe’s hair and roughly tugged on it.

“Your hair, it’s so nice – so thick and curly.  But we don’t have to concern ourselves with that right now.  I’ve got things to do.  Now eat these beans because I want you to keep your strength up.  That’s right, a healthy head of hair starts with good eating.  Open your mouth and I’ll give you your supper!”

Little Joe turned his face to the other side, avoiding the spoon that was moving over to his lips.  He didn’t trust the beans any more than he trusted the insane man who was trying to force feed him.

Aram grabbed the top of Joe’s head forcefully, holding on tightly with his left hand while his right held the spoonful of beans.  “You ain’t being a bad boy, are you?”

“Let me go!” Joe was finally able to pull a shout out of his gut as he tried his best to pull away from the man’s strong hold.

“You listened really good when you were five, Little Joe.  Remember — back then how I told you that if you were good, you’d get to see your papa?  You were more well behaved as a little boy.  Maybe now that you’re older you don’t want to see your pa again?  Yeah, it was your father who made you come in for that haircut.  He sure helped me out!  I didn’t have to go to your house to get you this time.  It was hard on me twelve years ago – to find just the right moment to snatch you out of that kitchen.  That cook of yours almost caught me but he had his hands full with a laundry basket and was too preoccupied to notice me hiding right behind the door.  But this time you were delivered right into my barber chair.”

*** Little Joe sat at the table in the kitchen eagerly eating the warm cookies that Hop Sing had left for him.  He finished the two that the cook had put on his plate before hopping down from his chair.  Moving over to the counter where Hop Sing had placed a towel over the warm batch of ginger cookies, Little Joe grabbed one more and then noticed the kitchen door opening slowly.  Worried that Hop Sing would be mad upon seeing him stealing another cookie, the little boy wrapped it in his hand and ran off to hide in the corner of the room.  It was then that Little Joe discovered that it wasn’t the cook who had entered the kitchen.

“Now don’t say a word,” the man wearing the odd-looking mask whispered as he looked down at the little boy.

Before Little Joe had the chance to scream for his father the man had placed a cloth over his mouth.  The little bit of cookie that was left in his hand was dashed underneath the boots of the bad man leaving only crumbs as a sign that Little Joe had been there. That was where the nightmare had always ended; at least that one. ***

Trying to catch his breath, Joe reeled from yet another awful vision from the past.  Now he finally realized where the nightmare which had plagued him for years had come from.  In the terrifying recurring dream, he would see someone walking through the kitchen door and then he would try to scream only to wake up in his bed fighting to breathe.  Little Joe attempted to push aside another reminder of his former abduction and control his mounting terror.

“I want to go home!  If you let me go, I won’t say a word about what you did today,” Little Joe attempted to bargain with the man, though he doubted that it would do much good.

“Oh, you won’t say a word, I’m sure of that.  Now you’d better be a good boy and eat your beans,” Aram’s reply came off sounding like a threat.

Little Joe reluctantly opened his mouth.  It wasn’t because he wanted to be compliant but was merely an attempt to stall long enough to give his family time to find him before it was too late.

*** Yeah, I’ll eat your disgusting beans alright.  But when I get loose, I’ll give you something too.  Like my fist for one! *** Little Joe thought as he swallowed the first spoonful.

---

“You need eat!” Hop Sing made another attempt to get the three Cartwrights up to the dinner table.

Ben collapsed down into his red leather chair.  He had been standing by the fireplace for better than an hour talking with first Hoss and then when he’d come back, Adam.  He was growing very fearful that Little Joe’s lateness meant that he was in some kind of danger.

“The boy would’ve been back home by now — even if he didn’t get that haircut,” he said and looked over at the cook.

“Little Joe come home – you see.  Worry no good – must eat!” Hop Sing persisted.  “Even if trouble – must eat supper!”

“He’s right, Pa,” Adam called over to his father.  “Look – at least now we know Little Joe made it to Mitch’s place and left around four.”

Hoss stared at the grandfather clock and said, “Well, it’s after nine now, Adam, he’s had plenty of time to get home!”

“Must eat – then find boy!” Hop Sing tried again.

“Alright,” Ben gave in and stood from the chair.  “Come on, Boys.  We’ll eat and if Joseph isn’t back by the time we’re finished I’m going to see Roy and organize a search party.”

“He’ll be back, Pa,” Adam replied, clapping his father on the back as the three men made their way to the dinner table.  None of them were hungry due to their worry but decided that they would need their strength to begin searching for the boy.

---

Little Joe had fallen to sleep again shortly after Aram had forced him to eat the plate of beans.  Still suffering from the effects of the chloroform his body had easily succumbed to the feeling of exhaustion.  A few hours after Aram had left him alone in the basement he woke again, filled with the same confusion he’d felt after waking up there earlier.  The same soft glow from the lamp that was over in the far corner of the room cast a thin line of light.  It was just enough for Little Joe to look around the room and spot numerous bags stacked up against one of the walls.

“Back with me, huh?” came the sudden voice from the bottom of the stairs.  Aram walked over to Little Joe and smiled.  He had watched his captive staring over at the wall just as he’d made it down to him.  “Guess you’re wondering what’s in all of them sacks?”

“No,” Joe returned, looking over at the man who was kneeling next to him again.  “I’m wondering when you’re going to let me go.”

Laughing, Aram patted the boy’s head and replied, “Let you go?  Now why’d I do that when I went to all the trouble to lug you down here?”

Little Joe thought about what the man had said.  Staring over at him he asked, “Here?  Where are we – in your house?”

“You’re a smart boy,” Aram grinned and patted Joe’s cheek.  “Yes, you are down in my basement but that’s not where you’ll be in a little while.  I’ve got a special place all fixed up for you, Little Joe.  I’ve been working on it for a couple of years and it’s all done.  So, you’ll be happy to get away from that post that’s held those hands of yours, won’t you?”

“I’ll be happy to get out of here and go home.  Let me go!” Joe shouted having had enough of Aram’s basement and his twisted grins.

Reaching inside his coat pocket, Aram pulled out a neckerchief.  He twirled it around in his hands to make a good-sized gag and then he forced it inside his prisoner’s mouth.  Joe fought his captor’s move by wildly shaking his head back and forth, but his strength played out.  Aram soon had it successfully secured in place.

“Sorry, Little Joe, but I don’t need you making noise when I take you out of here and I don’t want to use that chloroform on you again or it just might kill you.  It’s dangerous stuff – I read up on it.  Too much and you’d be dead.  But just enough and you go to sleep just like you done upstairs here.   Now don’t make me use it on you.  You be a good boy and I’ll be right back.  I just got to make sure there ain’t nobody out on the street right now,” he explained and then stood and walked away.

Little Joe watched as the man disappeared up the stairs again.  He hoped that somehow, he’d be able to catch Aram off-guard once he was freed from the support beam behind him.  There was a chance that he could do it and he moved his fingers around again so they’d be ready for battle should the time arise when he could use his fists.

---

The loud thump on the door interrupted the three Cartwrights from the meal that they hadn’t done much justice to and were only picking over to appease Hop Sing.  Ben was the first one to stand from his chair and he hurried across the dining room to see who it was.  Hope hadn’t left him yet and he prayed that there would be some word about Little Joe.  Pulling the door open he stared over at his foreman.

“Fletcher – come in,” Ben said and stepped back.

“Howdy, Ben,” Fletcher nodded to his boss as he stepped into the living room.   Just a few seconds later both Hoss and Adam were standing behind their father looking at the other man.  “I was coming in from babysitting those cows when I spotted a pinto that looked lost.  It’s Cochise, Ben,” He announced and saw the frightful looks on the faces in front of him.  “Where’s the boy?”

Ben sighed and shook his head before answering, “He’s missing, Fletcher – and we’re worried about him.  Where did you find his horse?”

“Buckhorn Meadow, Ben.  It was just wandering around.  When did you see Little Joe last and where was the kid heading?” he asked, now worried about the youngest Cartwright boy too, though he’d never say it.

“Joseph left this morning – he went to see Mitch Devlin and then was due to get a haircut.  He made it to Mitch’s place.  Adam went by there and Mac said that Joe left there about four and said he was going into Virginia City.  We went there but there was no sign of him.  We stopped by to ask Aram if he’d gotten the haircut and he said Joseph never made it by there.”

Fletcher scrubbed at his two-week growth of beard and then stared over at Ben.  “I didn’t check his saddlebags – figured the kid got throwed and walked home or something.  Let’s go have us a look – you never know,” he said, wondering if someone might have left a ransom note inside the saddlebags.  He hadn’t wanted to mention it because he could see the worry etched across Ben’s face and figured that he’d have guessed that was what he was inferring.  All four men walked out to the front hitching post where the foreman had left Cochise.

Hoss patted the horse’s withers as his father opened one side of the saddlebag and Adam the other.

“Joe wouldn’t have left his gun in here no matter what,” Adam announced as he pulled out the holster and Colt revolver.

Ben’s face went white when he pulled out the tan hat which was inside the saddlebags and all crumpled.  “Someone’s taken him – Joseph would never stuff his hat in there like this – no more than he’d ever leave his horse.  If he’d gotten hurt that’s one thing – but he’d have both of those on him if he did – they wouldn’t be inside his saddlebags,” he said grimly.

“Want me to get some hands out looking for the boy, Ben?” Fletcher offered, setting a hand on his friend’s shoulder.  He had seen his boss sad before, but he hadn’t witnessed Ben Cartwright looking so beleaguered; not in a long while.  The man was his best friend and despite what he usually said about them, he was partial to the three Cartwright boys and would’ve done anything to help them.  And Fletcher, after having worked for Ben for over twenty years, was cognizant of the fact that the man valued his sons above anything else in the world.  Now it appeared that someone had taken his youngest, and he knew how Ben had always doted on that boy.

Ben clapped the man’s shoulder and nodded, “I’d sure appreciate that, Fletcher.  Tell them exactly what I’ve told you and see if someone can pick up Cochise’s tracks.”

“I’ll go with him,” Hoss insisted and hurried back into the house to grab his holster and hat.

“Hoss is almost as good a tracker as me,” Fletcher grinned, hoping to spark a bit of a smile on his friend’s lips.  “I’ll be glad to take him along.  Won’t take long to gin up a bunch of your ranch hands who probably are trying to tear up Virginia City right about now.”

“Thank you,” Ben tried for a smile, but it never made it to his lips.  He turned to see Hoss heading his way.

“We’ll find him, Pa,” Hoss reassured and headed off to the barn to get his horse.

“I’ll go put Cochise away,” Adam said and untied the reins.

“Fletcher, I’m going to ride back to town and tell Roy what’s happened.  Tell the men I appreciate their help,” Ben added and clapped the foreman on the shoulder.  “Thanks – for finding the boy’s horse – and well –” he trailed off, fighting back the tears he had held back all evening long.  He was aware that Little Joe was in danger and he had that old sinking feeling that his son was hurt.

Simply nodding to his boss, Fletcher walked off to meet Hoss at the barn so they could light some torches to help with their search.  It being hours until daylight he knew they would be needed.

Ben watched as a few minutes later both Hoss and Fletcher, torches in hand, rounded the barn.  Adam had returned from putting Cochise in her stall and threw his arm across his father’s shoulder to offer him moral support.  It was evident that the man was spent after an evening filled with worry about Little Joe’s fate.

“We going to town now, Pa?”

With a quick tilt to his head, Ben walked back inside the ranch house next to his eldest.  Sometimes words just weren’t needed.

---

The familiar sound of a Colt revolver’s hammer being locked into place awakened Little Joe.  He continued to have an intense headache, and it was only sleep which had quelled the pain.  With his mouth gagged he couldn’t ask what Aram was planning to do with him, but his eyes had questions in them.

“Now I’m gonna untie your hands and feet, Boy.  But do me the favor and don’t even try to run off.  I’d hate like hell to splinter your spine, but I’ll do it!  In a few hours I expect somebody to figure out that I’ve taken you, so I haven’t got much to lose at this point.  You sit there and don’t move while I get these ropes off you,” He warned and first untied Joe’s ankles.  Moving behind the boy he loosened the rope that bound his wrists and stood.

“You can get up – but do it slowly.  I know you’re a quick boy – always have been even when you were five – so no sudden moves!”

Little Joe brought his arms out in front of him, and they were stiff after being bound behind him for so many hours.  Pulling himself to his feet, Joe waited to hear where they’d be going.

Aram cast a quick glance over to the wall where he had stacked up numerous bags.  He laughed and walked over to show his prisoner.  “Never told you about these, did I, Boy?  I seen you gawking over at them.  Well, they ain’t coming with us – and I doubt I’ll ever be back here so I might just as well show you,” he said and kicked over a bag, spilling the contents out onto the basement floor.

Little Joe stared over at the large volume of hair that had been inside the bag.  His eyes reflecting both disbelief and horror in them.  Joe couldn’t think of a single reason why anyone would keep hair –even if it was from all the haircuts that Aram had done over the years.

Laughing maniacally at the horrified expression spreading across Joe’s face, Aram called over to him, “Yeah, that’s right – it’s a lot of hair, ain’t it?  I’ve got bags and bags of the stuff.  But none of it is quality like yours, Little Joe.  I’ve been saving it up for years – but turns out I didn’t need it after all.  I’ll explain more later – time’s a wasting!”

Little Joe just stood there shaking his head wondering just what had caused the man to snap because it was obvious that he had gone completely insane.  He turned his head and stared at the basement stairs, hoping he’d get the chance to surprise Aram and make his escape.

“I can hear you thinking, Joe – don’t try it!  Now turn around, we’re walking out through that basement door.  If you make one false move I’m gonna have to plug you and it would be a pure waste.  Now move!”

Drawing in a deep breath, Little Joe walked in front of Aram and felt the end of the barrel of the Colt jammed against his spine.  He decided to wait for the right opportunity to arise before making a move.  Aram pulled back the slide bolt and ushered Little Joe out into the darkness.

“We’ve got a little walking ahead of us – but it won’t take long.  If you try to run off, I’m gonna shoot you dead, Little Joe, so be a good boy now,” He whispered and shoved Joe towards the back of his house and out into an open field.  There was only the soft glow from the waning full moon to light the path that would take them over to a small stand of pine trees and from there to a trail where Aram had left his buckboard.

“Now climb up inside the back of the wagon, Little Joe – and spread out.  I have everything ready for you,” Aram instructed and stood back as the boy did as he had been told.  Little Joe climbed inside the bed of the buckboard and stared out at the man.  He wanted to make a play for his gun but the way Aram was looking at him he knew it would be a foolhardy move.

“Lay down there and spread your arms out to either side of the wagon bed.  I got me something to keep you from trying to jump out,” he said, waving his Colt at his prisoner.

Little Joe wanted to scream and hopefully draw attention to what was going on, but with the gag in his mouth he couldn’t.  Instead, he reluctantly cooperated to appease the maniac with the gun aimed at his chest.  A minute later he heard the distinct sound of metal clamping into place as his wrists were bound.

“Those manacles you’re wearing cost me a pretty penny, Boy.  They’re tethered to the wood frame of this wagon – I hope they’re comfortable,” he chuckled and then placed a leather tarp over Joe just in case they were spotted on the trail.

Now Little Joe was bound by manacles and swallowed up by the darkness due to the covering that the evil man had thrown on top of him.  He was beginning to think that it would take a miracle for his family to find him now.  Saying a silent prayer, he listened as the wagon clamored up the path heading to God knows where.

---

Sheriff Roy Coffee stared into the bloodshot eyes of his best friend, Ben Cartwright.  It was easy to see that the man was plum worn out and hadn’t gotten much sleep lately.  Reaching for the coffee pot that he’d placed on top of the pot-bellied stove, he poured three cups and handed each man one.  He sipped at the steaming brew and tried to figure out what he could offer to the man by way of some help.

“Now, Ben, let me get this straight.  The kid was heading into town after leaving the Devlin ranch around four o’clock yesterday afternoon.  He never came home so you and your other boys checked with Aram to see if Joe showed up to get that haircut you told him to get.  He hadn’t seen Little Joe – nor anyone else that you spoke to – even at the two saloons.”

Ben nodded and tried to ease back in the hard wooden chair.  He had been pacing the floor of the sheriff’s office for better than thirty minutes trying to explain it all and only his fear for Little Joe kept him going.  Ben was physically exhausted and mentally spent due to his worry.  He hated to have to wake Roy in the middle of the night, but he thought it would be best if he got all the help that he could to find the missing boy.

“That’s right.  Fletcher is out with some of the ranch hands and Hoss right now trying to find Cochise’s tracks.  He found her wandering around up by Buckhorn Meadow.”

“Ben – has Joe had any problems with anyone recently that you know of?  Is there someone who might have been carrying a grudge against him?”

“No – none.  The boy hasn’t had any fights or any problems in town,” Ben insisted.

“Maybe he got himself hurt on the way into town?”

Adam interrupted, “Roy – if that was the case then why would he stuff his hat and Colt inside his saddlebags?”

Roy nodded and sipped more coffee trying to wake himself fully.  “Yeah – that’s a valid point alright.”

Ben stared at Adam and then directed his attention back to the sheriff.  “There is one thing – it might not have anything to do with Joseph’s disappearance – but – he has been having some trouble sleeping lately.”

“What — you mean the kid’s having nightmares?”

“More than that, Roy — remember when the boy was taken back when he was five years old?”

Roy nodded and waited for the man to continue.

“In the past I’ve told you how every so often Joseph goes through these spells where he relives being taken out of the house – and ends up in the same spot in the kitchen where the kidnapper got a hold of him.”

“I remember – so he’s having another bout with that?” Roy questioned, trying to process all the information to determine if it was pertinent.

“Yes – and it’s been a very rough week on all of us as we’ve been trying to deal with it once again.  I told my cousin Harden about it before he left on the stage.  He sent me a wire the other day from San Francisco and told me about this hypnotist who’s also a medical doctor.  I sent for him and the man’s due to arrive in Virginia City later today and he’s supposed to try and help Joe recover the memories so he can get over the trauma he experienced back then.”

The additional information caused Roy to stand from his desk and pace in front of the stove for a few minutes, his right index finger held to his lips trying to process it all.

Finally turning back to the two men in front of his desk he said, “If Little Joe somehow was able to remember what happened to him that day and came up with the name of whoever kidnapped him — well it would put whoever did it at risk of being found out.  You don’t suppose someone heard what you were planning on doing?”

Apprehensively shifting in his chair, Ben thought about what the sheriff had proffered.  “I don’t know how they’d know about the hypnotist, Roy.  I only told Doc and you know how closed mouthed he is.  Paul wouldn’t have told anyone about the hypnotist.”

“You didn’t tell anyone else, Ben?”

Ben shook his head a bit too quickly and then a sudden thought popped into his head.  “There’s Pete Wilson of course – he handled all those wires that Harden and I sent back and forth that day.”

Adam reached for his father’s arm and interjected, “Pa – don’t you think it’s time we go and talk to Pete?  There’s always the chance that this does have to do with Joe’s abduction after all.”

Roy nodded as he watched both men stand from their chairs.  “I hate like heck to wake old Pete up in the middle of the night – but I think it’s important enough that we ask him if he said anything about that hypnotist to someone who might have spread it around.  We never found out who took Little Joe – and there’s always the chance that the culprit is still around Virginia City.”

Without another word spoken between them, the three men hurried out of the sheriff’s office heading down the street to Pete Wilson’s house with the hope that he might have some of the answers they were looking for.

---

“We’re here, Boy,” Aram announced as he walked behind the buckboard and pulled the tarp off his captive.  “I’ll get those manacles off you but remember I’ve got a gun and I sure as heck ain’t afraid to use it,” He warned.

Drawing in a deep breath attempting to force some fresh air into his lungs after spending far too long underneath the covering, Little Joe waited for the man to unlock the two wrist cuffs.  His temper had mounted the more time that had elapsed and now he was ready to make a valiant attempt towards freedom.

Freeing the boy’s wrists, Aram called, “Okay, now push yourself to the end of the wagon bed and no sudden moves.”

Pointing to his mouth, the boy’s eyes pleaded for the man to loosen his gag.

“Oh – alright – nobody can hear you way out here anyway,” Aram groaned and with his gun still pointing at his prisoner he untied the neckerchief.

“Thanks,” He nodded and tried to get a good look at his surroundings.  “Where are we?” Little Joe asked warily.  He could just barely make out the appearance of two buildings, but he couldn’t focus in on what they were.

“Your new home,” the man chuckled as he watched the boy getting out of the wagon.  “Now walk in front of me – walk straight ahead, it ain’t far.”

After taking just a few steps, Little Joe pretended to trip and went down to the ground.  “My leg!” He shouted and grabbed his right calf.

Aram knelt alongside the boy and tried to get a hold of his elbow to pull him back to his feet.  “You’re okay – just get up!”

Without warning, Joe elbowed the man fiercely, catching him just under his chin and knocking him flat on his back.  He sprang to his feet and began to run off when the loud crack of a bullet fired from the man’s Colt pierced the night air, careening through the boy’s right calf.  Little Joe fell to the ground with a loud groan escaping through his lips.

“You’re lucky that bullet didn’t catch you in your spine – which was where I was aiming!  Well, now you’ve got that leg injury that you pretended to have a few minutes ago,” Aram announced and pulled the boy up.  “Let’s get inside – and I’ll see how bad it got you.  I want you alive – for now – you fool kid!” He shouted and then shoved the boy towards the door of one of the buildings.

Holding his gun in his right hand, Aram lit a kerosene lantern just as they made it inside the darkened room.  Soon the light was bright enough for Little Joe to get a good glimpse at the place.  There was what looked like a doctor’s examination table in the middle of the room and Joe was getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew who was going to be the one to lie down there soon.

---

“Roy?” A very groggy Pete Wilson sighed as he stepped out onto his porch, wrapping the sash to his robe around his waist.

“Sorry to wake you up, Pete, but we’ve got a few questions to ask you,” the sheriff explained as he moved closer to the other man with the two Cartwrights flanking him.

“Questions?  At two in the morning?  Can’t they wait until daylight?” he continued and then glanced behind the sheriff to nod at both Ben and Adam.

“Won’t take long.  Ben tells me that you sent some wires for him the other day – and received some from his cousin in San Francisco too.”

“Yeah – what about them?”

Ben moved in closer; he couldn’t stay silent any longer, his fear over Little Joe’s fate was growing as every minute ticked by.  “Pete – did you tell anyone about me sending for that hypnotist?”

Pete bit at his bottom lip and looked back and forth between both Roy and Ben before answering him.  “I might have mentioned it in passing,” he returned, knowing that he’d run his mouth about something he shouldn’t have.

“Mentioned to who, Pete?” Roy got back to his line of questioning.

“I just told Aram – but you know how it goes – you’re sitting in the barber chair and you’re trying to past the time – “

Ben cut the man off in mid-sentence, totally exasperated with the telegrapher and the way he always spoke out of turn.  “Aram? What did you tell him?”

“Well, he didn’t know anything about Little Joe being kidnapped when he was a little boy.  He said twelve years ago this spring he’d been in Texas because his uncle had died.  So, I just told him the story about Joe getting snatched from your house, Ben.  Nothing much more than that – and I explained what you were going to try to do with that hypnotist fellow.   I’m sorry – but Aram promised me he wouldn’t say nothing about it.”

“When did you tell him that?” Roy jumped back in, a bit annoyed by Ben’s interruption, but he also understood why he’d done it.

“A couple of days ago – why?  What’s going on, Roy?”

“Little Joe’s missing,” the sheriff muttered and turned his attention back to Ben.

“We’ve got to go and talk to Aram to find out who he told, Roy.  He’s our best chance now!” Ben insisted, turning to walk down the porch steps with Adam.

“I’m sorry, Ben – I hope you find the boy!” Pete sang out but none of the three men even turned back around.  They hurried down the walkway and left in the direction of Aram’s house.

---

“Stretch out on top of that table, Boy,” Aram insisted as he grabbed a towel he’d thrown haphazardly on the shelf just to the other side of the door on his last visit to the shop.   He watched the boy carefully knowing that he was dead set on trying to escape.  Moving back to the examination table he watched as Little Joe finally settled back with obvious pain written across his face.  “Let’s see what you made me do, you stupid kid,” He sighed and pulled the right pant leg up.  Aram studied the path of the bullet before making his diagnosis.  “Well, there’s no bullet to have to dig out — it went clean through.  Here,” he said, showing no emotion in his tone of voice.  Aram simply tied the towel around the boy’s leg and roughly pulled it taunt.

“Hurts,” Joe groaned and bit his bottom lip.  “Hurts bad – I need a doctor, Mister Cullen.”

“No, you don’t need Doc – I know you’re just trying to get me to let you go.  It’s bleeding pretty good, but you’re young so you’ve got plenty of blood.  It ain’t gonna kill you.  That towel will soak up most of it.”

Pulling himself back into a seated position, Little Joe glanced around the room.  He couldn’t see much due to the faint light given off by the single lamp that Aram had lit as they entered the place.  Joe thought it to be some kind of shop by the scattered tools he’d caught sight of.  “Why’d you bring me out here?  Just tell me what you’re going to do to me and better yet – tell me why?  Why’d you kidnap me when I was little and why have you done it again?”

Aram laughed and shook his head.  “You’ve sure got a lot of questions, Boy.  One thing at a time.  First off – drink some of this,” he said and reached across to a table pulling back a canteen.

“What is it?” Joe asked, not trusting the man in the least.  He wouldn’t have been surprised if Aram was planning on drugging him with something again.

“Just water – now drink it.  Didn’t your pa teach you never to argue with a man who’s already shot you once?”

“What difference does it make to you if I drink or not?  I mean – aren’t you planning on killing me?”

Aram groaned over the onslaught of the boy’s numerous questions.  The kid was beginning to annoy him.  “Drink or don’t drink – I don’t care – but I’m not going to be offering you water again.”

Little Joe gave in and upturned the canteen.  He was thirsty, especially after having been gagged and placed underneath that sweltering hot tarp for so long.  Drinking his fill and wondering if he could hit the man with the canteen, he had to relinquish it back to Aram when he pointed the gun at his chest.

“Now lie back, Little Joe,” he instructed and watched the boy.  “No -not on your back – turn over onto your stomach.”

“Huh?  Why?”

Aram thumbed the hammer of his Colt back and aimed it at his prisoner.  “I’m not going to ask you twice anymore.  I don’t need you alive for what I’ve got planned – it’s going to be up to you if you end up dead, Boy.”

Little Joe rolled onto his stomach hoping that if he stalled for time that his family would show up and save him.  He didn’t want to lie in the prone position, but he didn’t want to get another bullet sent through him either.

“Just stay like that,” Aram warned and reached for the leather restraints that were already in place on either side of the head of the examination table.  In just a few minutes he had the boy’s wrists securely bound again.  Running his fingers through the hair on the back of Joe’s head, he chuckled over how smoothly the night had gone.  “Now – that’s better.  I can put this down now,” he set the Colt off to the side and then sat down in the chair next to his prisoner.  “Hey, Joe – I got something to show you.  Want to see?”

*** Oh, Lord, what’s he going to show me this time?  The last time it was a bag of hair – no telling what this crazy man’s going to do next! *** he thought to himself.  But his only plan now was to keep Aram talking so Joe played right along.  “Sure – I’m a captive audience—show me.”

Aram dug into the top pocket of his coat and pulled out a very small object.  He held it out so Joe could see it.  Turning his head to the side, the boy tried to focus in on what the man held in his hand.

“What’s that?”

“You really don’t know?” Aram asked, holding it closer to the boy’s face.

“I don’t have a clue,” Joe muttered and wished that his Pa and brothers would burst into the room and shoot the man in front of him.

“Well, I’ll give you that clue you wanted.  This was yours and when I took it from you – twelve years ago you bawled your eyes out.  You were a noisy little brat – especially when you got upset!”

Again, Little Joe tried to home in on what the man held in his hand.  “I don’t know what it is – go ahead and tell me.  I give up.”

Aram leaned in closer and whispered menacingly, “You tooked my best curl – you shouldn’t have tooken it!”

His face turning pale, Joe winced his eyes shut tightly as the haunting memory flashed in his mind and he couldn’t stop its intensity.

*** The flame coming from the kerosene lantern sent dancing shadows against the cave wall as Little Joe watched the bad man’s hand coming closer.  He spotted the glint given off by the blade of the straight razor.  It had moved so swiftly that it had been only a second after he’d spotted it that it passed through Joe’s bangs making one frenzied cut.  The curl that had been in the middle of the little boy’s bangs now was in the hand of the evil man.

“That’s mine!” Little Joe shouted and then began to cry.  His sobs grew louder as he watched the bad man tuck the strand of hair inside of his shirt pocket.  “You shouldn’t ought to have tooken that – it was my best curl!” he protested between sobs.

“Now – now – it’s only one curl, Boy – no need to get yourself so upset.  I’m only taking one for now.”

“You tooked my best curl – give it back!” the little boy insisted loudly.

“How about we trade?  Here – I’ve got a nice peppermint stick for you – go ahead you can have it,” the man attempted to hand it to the kid, but he refused it.

“I don’t like peppermint,” Little Joe returned angrily and mopped his eyes on his shirt sleeve.

“All little boys love peppermint,” the bad man responded. ***

Yet another memory from something that used to haunt his nightmares was beginning to make sense.  Little Joe remembered the razor, and he remembered the curl being taken from him.

“I don’t understand – why – why did you do that to a little kid?  And why did you take me back then?” he muttered, never thinking that he’d get a straight answer from the insane man.

“Little Joe – here’s the thing,” Aram began calmly and took a swig from the canteen.  “You’ve always had such nice hair – even when you were just a little boy.  I wanted it.”

“Huh?  You stole me away from my family because you wanted one of my curls?” Joe asked incredulously.  It wasn’t as though he presumed the man had a valid reason for abducting him either time, but he had thought that it would have served some purpose other than scaring him back then.

Aram slowly began to run his fingers through the boy’s hair smiling wickedly.  Little Joe thrashed his head back and forth but being tied down in the leather restraints he couldn’t get away from him.

“I took that one because I wanted to make sure that it was just right.”

“Just right?” Joe questioned, his voice filled with confusion and still fighting the man’s touch, “Just right for what?”

“I’m glad you asked, Boy.  Just a second, I’ve got something to show you!” he called out enthusiastically as he stood from the chair.

Little Joe tried to see what the man was doing.  He spotted him across the room, and he seemed to be lugging a big table over to where he was spread out on his stomach.  *** Pa – if you’re out there — this would be a good time for you to show up!  I don’t know how much longer I can handle being with this crazy man.  Hurry up, will you? *** Joe thought to himself as Aram drew closer again.

“Here – now look at this, Little Joe,” the man said, sitting back down in the chair.  Reaching over to the table he’d brought over, he held up a piece of board with what looked like strands of human hair pinned to it.  “These are just samples, mind you.  Like I had in some of those sacks at my house.  There are all types of hair, you know?  There’s thin, thick, wavy, curly, straight.  Then there’s coarse, wiry – well all kinds of textures.  I’ve seen and felt them all over the years.  But when your Pa brought you in for your first haircut, I knew that you had the finest hair of anyone who had ever been in my chair.  That’s when I knew that it would be yours that I’d need.”

Swallowing the lump that was rapidly growing in his throat, Little Joe finally choked out, “My hair – you needed it for what?  For that curl you took off me when I was a kid?”

“No, Boy,” Aram sighed and impatiently shook his head.  “That was just a sample – you know – something to keep with me until you were ready.”

“Ready?”

“Yes — I knew at the age of five it was much too soon to take what I needed from you.  So, I kidnapped you just to get that sample.”

*** Oh no – I’m trying to ask questions of an insane person – this isn’t easy, but I’ve got to keep him talking.  If he’s talking, he can’t do anything else to me! *** Joe mused to himself.

“Wait – if you cut my hair in your shop back then, why didn’t you just take that curl when I was sitting there – then you wouldn’t have needed to kidnap me?”

“Because I needed to take that curl off down at the root – your Pa wouldn’t have liked that!  That’s why I had to snatch you.  I hadn’t planned on keeping you for a week, Kid.  But that darn ranch of yours was swarming with people out looking for you by the time it got dark the first night.  So, I had to lay low until I could escape.  Believe me, I didn’t want to get stuck inside a cave on the Ponderosa with a brat who kept trying to escape and calling for his Papa every other minute!  It was a stroke of pure luck that you didn’t remember anything about me after they found you so I was in the clear and could bide my time until now.”

*** Dammit!  I was gone for a whole week, and nobody has said one darn word to me about it in twelve years!  You’d think it would merit a mention after all that time.  Wonder why they kept it from me? *** Joe frowned at the thought of it all.  *** It sure would’ve been a good thing to know – that some crazy person was still out there somewhere and that he might come back and snatch me again! ***

“You gotta be pretty low to take a little five-year-old like that, Mister Cullen!” Joe exclaimed.

“No – I told you I’m not Mister Cullen to you.  You call me by the name you gave me!”

“Okay,” Joe frowned, trying to keep the man calm.
“My name, Little Joe – say it!” He demanded and tugged Joe’s hair, making him wince from the pain he had caused.

“The bad man,” he whispered and dropped his head down some.

“Now getting back to what you were saying before.  Do you think I hurt you?  No, I was good to you, Boy!  I fed you and took care of you even though every time I let you out of that cage to stretch your legs you’d run off and try to escape!  The few scrapes and bruises you got were done by your own hands, Little Joe, when you’d run off and fall.  I don’t hurt kids!” he insisted.

“You think stealing someone from their own house doesn’t hurt a kid?” He fumed and shook his head back and forth, trying to escape from the crazy man’s touch.   I guess it must’ve hurt me pretty badly because I blocked all those memories of you kidnapping me so I wouldn’t have to think about what you’d done!”   Joe stopped his rant and attempted to regain his composure.  He knew that he’d have to somehow try to get through to the barber.  “Now since you’re such a nice guy – how about letting me go?  I swear to you that I won’t tell anyone that you shot me,” Little Joe tried to bargain again, though he presumed that it would fall on deaf ears.

Aram reached over and grabbed a handful of the boy’s hair and tugged it roughly again.  “Now why would I do a fool thing like that when I’ve been waiting all this time to get a hold of you?  I just told you a little while ago that you have the perfect head of hair.  Weren’t you listening?”

“Let me go!” Joe shouted and tried to get loose from the man’s tight hold.  He fought the leather restraints holding him down to the table but to no avail.

Releasing the boy’s hair from his grasp, Aram’s lips formed into that twisted grin again.  “Not just yet.  It’s time that we got down to business.  I’ve got to get a few things ready first,” he announced and stood from his chair.  Laid out on top of the table that he had brought over next to Little Joe was a sheet that covered the items that Aram needed.  He pulled it up, finally bringing into full view what the barber had worked hard to craft over the twelve years since first abducting the boy.

“What – what’s that?”  Little Joe stuttered, displaying the horror that was beginning to take hold of him.  Just as soon as Aram had pulled the sheet from the table the boy had caught sight of what had been hidden underneath.  To Joe it looked just like a human head sitting there on top of it.  His heart began to thump a bit harder in his chest, almost to the point where he could hear it.

Smiling proudly over at Joe Aram said, “I see I’ve piqued your curiosity, huh?”

Joe’s voice was laced with horror, “Is — is that what it looks like?”

“Relax, Boy, it’s not a head – well – not a real head that is,” the barber began to explain as he slowly stroked the life-sized wooden wig block which was in the shape of a human head.  “This is going to be me, Joe.   See this?” he pointed to the flesh-colored silk mesh that went around the wig block.  “This is the exact – and I do mean exact – form of my head.  I used my own measurements when I ordered the silk mesh.”

Swallowing hard, still attempting to rid himself of the huge knot which kept forming in his throat, Joe managed to reply, “What—what are you going to do with that thing?”

Surprised that the boy didn’t have a clue as to what he was showing him, he asked, “Don’t you know?”

Little Joe merely shook his head, unable to speak.

Aram reached down and ran his fingers through the thick brown curls on the back of the boy’s head.  “I told you that you have the perfect hair.  Though I have searched around every single year – cutting hundreds of heads of hair — since I took that one perfect curl of yours no one’s ever been able to top the feel and appearance of these.  Fortuitously only your hair will suit me,” He paused and separated each curl between his fingers.  “It is the finest – you know!”

His eyes growing wide, Joe hesitantly asked, “What – you’re going to give me a haircut and stick my hair on that thing?”

“Not just a haircut, Little Joe – I need to remove each strand close to their root.  So, by the time I’m done I will have what you have,” he paused and swiped a hand over his bald head and added, “And you will be close to having what I have now.”

Joe shook his head, his voice turning deadly, he threatened the man, “The only way you’ll get my hair is to kill me!”

“I knew you’d feel that way,” Aram nodded, “And that’s a pure shame, Joe.  But – you’ve had your time on earth – and with a lot of admirers whereas I’ve been bald since I was very young.  I lost all of mine due to a bout with scarlet fever.  It was a rare thing – doesn’t happen often – but unfortunately, I went almost completely bald within a year after getting that disease.  But now – thanks to you, Boy – I’ll have these thick – beautiful – curls of yours!  It took twelve years, but you’ve now got the perfect head of hair – which will soon be mine!”

Little Joe yanked at the leather restraints as he struggled to free his wrists from the bonds that held him, but with no success.

“Let me get set up, Boy, and then we will begin,” Aram chuckled and began to carefully organize everything that he would need to fill the flesh-toned silk mesh with the freshly harvested hair of his victim.  And each strand of hair would be involuntarily provided by Little Joe Cartwright.

---

“I checked the barbershop, Pa – it’s locked up tight.  There’s no sign of Aram in there,” Adam called as he met both his father and the sheriff down by the barber’s quarters.

Roy shook his head and stared over at Ben.  “Don’t make sense that Aram ain’t around at this time of the morning.  We’ve been pounding on this door for ten minutes now.”

“Hold on a second,” Adam said and reached in his pants pocket and drew out a match.  “Let me go have a quick look to see if his horse is in his barn.  Be right back!”

Ben and Roy turned and watched as Adam walked down the hill to the barn that was right behind the barber’s house.  He returned only a few minutes later, jogging back over to them again.

“Aram’s horse is gone – and so is that buckboard of his,” Adam explained.

“That’s it!” Roy exclaimed and kicked the door in.  “Let’s go see what we can find in here,” he said and the three men walked inside Aram’s house.

Lighting a lantern that he’d spotted just on the right side of the door, Ben held it up.  “Adam – grab that other lantern over there,” he pointed over by the kitchen.  “You search up here and Roy and I’ll go down to the basement.”

With his son doing a walkthrough of the top floor, Ben and Roy continued down to the basement holding the lantern high in the air.

“Bring that lamp a little closer will you, Ben,” Roy said stooping down after spotting something leaning against the far wall.

Drawing closer to the sheriff, Ben held the lamp lower to the ground where he spotted what Roy had just found.  It was a big burlap bag, and it was overturned with its contents strewn across the floor.

“Hair,” Roy groaned as he picked up a handful off the floor.  “And look!” He pointed to the numerous bags that lined the entire wall.  “Reckon why in the world old Aram would’ve kept all this?”

Ben’s face paled over what they had found.  He watched as Roy dropped the hair onto the floor and stood.  They turned around to further inspect the room when the sheriff noticed something else and cried out.

“Look at this!” Roy said as he pointed to a support beam standing in the middle of the room.

Going down to his knees, Ben pulled the two sets of rope into his hands.  “Someone’s been tied up to this post,” He muttered, getting the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that the prisoner had been his youngest son.

“I’m getting the notion that old Aram didn’t tell anyone about that hypnotist, Ben.  He didn’t have to,” Roy announced.  “He must’ve gotten a hold of Little Joe.”

Ben stood and briefly closed his eyes.  All he could think about was the fact that he had forced his son to get a haircut that day, thus, sending him right into Aram’s hands.  “He must’ve been the one who kidnapped my boy twelve years ago!  I just can’t believe it.”

“Hey, Pa!” Adam called hurrying down the stairs.  “Hoss and Fletcher are outside – they wanted to know if we found anything yet.”

“We found something alright,” Ben returned grimly.  “Let’s go, Roy.”

The three men walked back outside and met up with Hoss, Fletcher and one other long-time Ponderosa ranch hand named Cody.

“We’ve got to find Aram – he’s no doubt in his buckboard and hauling Little Joe off somewhere.  He’s either pulling his saddlehorse behind the wagon or has it stashed somewhere,” Roy began and stared over at the three men assembled there in front of him.  “Fletcher – you and Hoss are the best trackers around these parts – how about we split up some?  I’ll go with you and Cody.  Ben, I guess you and your two boys start your search one way and we’ll go the other.  Where do you want to start?”

“Pa – we already searched all around Buckhorn Meadows and the flats and didn’t find anything,” Hoss explained.  “I think three of us should take the road towards Carson City and the other group should go towards Truckee.  With Aram in a buckboard, he’ll not be able to get off the main roads or at least dirt trails – so I think those would be our best bets to find his tracks.”

“I think you’re right, Hoss,” Roy nodded and then stared at Ben.  “Which direction do you want to head, Ben?”

“We’ll head off on the trail to Truckee,” Ben replied.

“Alright – we’ll take the road towards Carson. It’ll be daylight soon – we’d better get started.  I’ve got to go get my horse.  Good luck – and if we don’t find anything let’s meet back at the jail around noon.”

Ben patted the sheriff’s shoulder, and without another word walked up the hill with both Hoss and Adam.

---

“Listen here, Boy.  It’s just about dawn and I’m going to get my horse all saddled and ready because just as soon as we’re finished, I’m heading out.  You just relax and when I return, we’ll get down to business.  I won’t be long – just relax,” Aram smiled and patted Joe’s shoulder as he walked to the door.

The very second that Little Joe heard the door closing he began to frantically tug and yank on his restraints hoping to escape.  No matter how much he fought them the leather wouldn’t budge.  He was played out after only a few minutes due to the aftereffects of the chloroform as well as the blood loss from his gunshot wound.  Joe couldn’t help staring at the wig block and the thought of it chilled him to the marrow.  He couldn’t believe what the barber had planned to do to him.  There wasn’t a thing he could do to prevent what was going to happen other than to pray that his father and brothers would find him in time.

“Well, that’s out of the way!” Aram announced as he walked back inside ten minutes later.  “I always say you’ve got to have a plan – and I’ve had this one for a very long while, Boy.  My horse is saddled, fed and watered so he’ll be ready just as soon as we’re done.”

“If you do this to me my Pa will kill you,” Joe warned angrily, now openly fighting the restraints.

Laughing over what the boy had said, he neared Joe and set a hand onto his shoulder.   “Your Pa won’t find you in time, Little Joe – so stop thinking that he will.  If you’re a good boy I won’t hurt you.”

“Not hurt me!” Joe exclaimed loudly.  “Mister Cullen, you’ve got to be insane to do this to me!”

Aram squeezed the boy’s shoulder so hard that it elicited a groan from him.  “I’m not insane and how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that!”

“Fine!” Joe shouted, no longer trying to maintain a level head because he was both scared and angry over what the man was planning to do to him.  “Okay – you’re the bad man – but you’re also insane!”

Reaching for his straight razor lying on the table, he pulled it into his hand and held it menacingly in front of Joe’s eyes.  “You’d better watch your mouth, Boy.  I can get that hair of yours off your dead body – and come to think of it, it would be easier.”

“You want to end up on the gallows?” Joe whispered as the straight razor came precariously close to his face.

Aram chuckled and patted the boy’s shoulder again.  “Nobody goes to the gallows for hair theft, Little Joe.  Now just be quiet so I can get started.  It’s a lot more complicated than it looks.  I’ve got to take each curl and tie it up then sew it onto that mesh.  But we’ve got lots of time.”

Little Joe watched as the man calmly sat down in the chair next to him and reached for his shears.  He swallowed hard and then began to pull on the restraints again.

“Listen to me,” Aram fired out angrily.  He had lost all patience with the boy on the table, and it showed in his cold dark eyes.  “I have more chloroform and I’ll use it.  But I’m warning you it will probably kill you.  You can’t take in too much of that stuff – and I’ve already dosed you once.  Any more trouble and you get a rag full of it.”

Weighing what the man had told him, Little Joe wasn’t sure if it would be wise to move around too much.  But he didn’t want to simply surrender and watch as his hair was slowly cut from his head either.

“Please, Mister Cullen,” Joe whimpered, hoping with his tone of voice that he’d somehow get through to the man.  “Please don’t do this.”

“That’s not my name!” he shouted and grabbed a fistful of Joe’s hair.  “Who am I, Boy?” he asked, tugging on his victim’s curls.

“The bad man,” Joe responded weakly, his face scrunched up in pain.

“That’s right,” Aram nodded and let go of the boy’s hair.  “Now we’ll begin,” he smiled and lifted his shears in his hands.

With the left side of his face pressed against the leather covering of the examination table; Little Joe watched as the heavy forged steel blades of Aram’s shears grew closer.

“Now don’t move an inch, Boy.  I wouldn’t want to take off an ear.  We’ll start with the right side of your head and work our way around.  Here we go,” Aram announced filled with excitement over the prospect that he’d soon have a full head of thick, curly, brown hair.

The metallic snap of the blades ringing in his ear, Little Joe felt the first lock of hair as it was clipped off just a half of an inch from his scalp.  Aram walked over to the table where he’d already prepared numerous pieces of flesh toned ribbon and tied the lock off.  He pinned it on the silk mesh and turned back towards him.

“The first one is always the worst,” Aram chuckled as he watched Joe’s right eye close and saw the look of terror on his face.  “Here we go – just relax – you’re doing good so far.  I won’t have to use that chloroform if you keep still, Little Joe!”

Aram hummed to himself as he cut the second lock of hair and held it in front of Joe’s eye.  “Look here, Boy – look at the bounce this curl has,” he said gleefully.

Little Joe wouldn’t open his eyes; he refused to show the other man the tears forming in them due to his inability to stop what Aram was doing to him.  One cut at a time Joe heard the strange rhapsody made by the steady snip, snip, snip from the metal shears and the madman’s humming as his hair was taken from him one lock at a time.

*** If I get out of this alive, I’m going to stab that man with his own shears! *** Joe swore to himself.

Thirty minutes later Aram had strategically cut all the locks of hair from the right side of his victim’s head and had each one tied and pinned to the silk mesh on the wooden wig block.

“We’re progressing nicely, Boy.  Now – face down so I can cut the curls on the back of your head.  Keep being good and you won’t have to smell that awful chloroform again.”

Little Joe didn’t move his head, he couldn’t.  With every cut of the shears, he felt his strength waning as though he was Samson from the Old Testament.  He tried his best to block out of his mind how he was going to look after the bad man was done with him.  Joe didn’t think he’d ever look at a mirror again, at least not until his hair grew back.

“Either drop your face down on that table or I get the rag!” Aram screamed.

Little Joe finally complied and dropped his face straight down onto the table.  He knew it was useless to protest because all it would get him was another breath of the chloroform the insane man evidently had brought with him.

“Good boy!” Aram smiled and snipped another lock off the boy’s head.

---

Daylight had broken and the tracks that the Cartwrights had picked up were easier to see.  They had been made by a buckboard, but the three men had missed where the tracks had begun so there was no real way to know if they had been made by Aram Cullen’s wagon.

“Pa – those tracks head toward the river!” Hoss announced and pointed down to the dirt road.  “It’s a buckboard – not sure if it’s Aram’s but they’re fresh tracks.”  He climbed down from his horse and studied them a little more thoroughly.  “I’d say they’re maybe five or six hours old – not exactly sure.  But the dirt hasn’t caved in on itself, so they had to have been made some time last night.”

Ben and Adam climbed down from their horses and gathered around Hoss, also studying the tracks left by the wagon.  Staring off to the east Ben shook his head, not sure if they had followed the right buckboard or not.  It could have been anyone’s.

“If it’s Aram –wonder where he’s going?” Hoss asked.

Ben shook his head and stared over at Adam.  “What’s out that way?  There’s no cave that I know of around here.”

Adam thought for a minute and then looked over at Hoss.  “Hey – isn’t there an old stamp mill and forge somewhere around here?”

Hoss nodded, “That’s right – it’s about five or six miles towards the river.  It’s been closed for years – but it might be a good place to take someone if you didn’t want to be spotted.”

The three Cartwright’s mounted their horses and stared off to the west, all wondering if they would find Little Joe if they followed the dirt road down to the river.

“There’s only one way to find out.  Let’s ride!” Ben called over to his boys and lightly kicked Buck’s sides, sending him into a gallop.

---

The damage had been done and Little Joe finally passed out on the examination table after the evil man had cut the final curl from his head.  Aram had mocked the boy by waving the strand of hair in front of his eyes and calling it “his best curl”.  Afterwards, due to both shock and blood loss, Joe had closed his eyes and let his head drop down onto the examination table.  He didn’t know if Aram was going to kill him and after witnessing what he had, Joe didn’t much care anymore if he did.

Piece by piece and strand by strand, Aram stitched the small bundles of hair onto the flesh-colored silk mesh.  He was an artist when it came to hair and took great pride in his work.  By the time he was through daylight streamed through the windows.  Aram anxiously pulled on his new hairpiece and grabbed the hand mirror he had set on the table.  He gleefully smiled over the fact that he finally had a full head of hair after so many years of being bald.  It was brown, curly and thick, and it was his.

“Wake up, Boy!  I got something to show you!” Aram yelled in Little Joe’s ear.

Pulling himself from a horrible dream that happened to be reality, the boy moaned as he turned his head in the opposite direction of his captor.

“Boy – you got to see this!”

“Go away,” Little Joe muttered angrily.

“You want me to get that chloroform? One more dose will probably kill you,” Aram threatened and yanked Joe’s head over to him.

Blinking his eyes open, Little Joe stared up at the horrendous sight of his own hair looking back at him.  The insane man was smiling ear to ear as he displayed the vile thing.  Little Joe’s head was cold, and he wondered if Aram had left any hair at all on top of his head or not.

“What do you think?  Nice huh? In fact, these curls look much better on me than they did on you!”

Numb by all he had endured; Joe simply shook his head.

“Oh, don’t worry Boy!  My guess is it’ll take six months or so, but you’ll grow it back.  Right now, you look a little bit on the bald side – but it won’t be permanent,” Aram laughed at his victim.

“I hate you,” Joe whispered and slowly closed his eyes, praying that he’d fall back to sleep.  He’d had enough of the insane man’s taunts; enough to last a lifetime.

Aram moved in closer to the boy and roughly yanked his chin up, forcing Joe’s gaze.  “Tell me how good I look!” he demanded.

“You’re ugly – both inside and out.  You can keep that hair, but it’ll never be yours,” Joe responded bitterly.

Incensed over what the boy had said, Aram slapped Joe’s face hard.  “You’d better remember who I am!”

Little Joe nodded, “Yeah, I know who you are — you’re – you’re the bad man.”  And with that statement he passed out cold.

---

“There it is!”  Hoss pointed over at the stamp mill as they were rounding a sharp bend in the road.

“Look!” Adam shouted.  “That’s Aram’s horse!”

Ben watched as the man spurred his horse into a full gallop heading west towards the Truckee River.  “You boys follow him – I want him caught!  I’ll go check on your brother!”

Hoss and Adam rode off in a full gallop trying to catch up with the man who had kidnapped their little brother twice in his short life.

Pulling back on his reins, Ben brought Buck to a quick halt right in front of the stamp mill and forge.  He noticed Aram’s buckboard was pulled up in front of the larger of the two buildings and decided to check there first.  With his heart racing, worried about what he might find inside, he threw the door open and scanned the room.  There before him, lying on his stomach on a table, was the still form of his youngest son.

“Joseph!” Ben cried out and jogged over to the boy.  He could see that Joe was tethered to the examination table by two leather restraints.

“I’ll get your hands loose, Son,” Ben whispered, though he could tell that the boy was out cold.  One by one he unbuckled the two wrist cuffs and then gingerly rolled his son over onto his back.  His heart fell in his chest when he saw what Aram had done to the boy; so much so that his eyes clouded with tears. Little Joe’s hair wasn’t much more than half an inch in length all the way around his head.  Ben had never seen his youngest with hardly any hair before.  Thick brown curls had graced Joseph’s head ever since his birth. The anguished father knew what losing those had done to the boy and how his psyche would suffer due to the trauma of it.

“Oh my God!”  Ben gasped as his hand gently swept across his son’s head.  “What did he do to you, Joseph?” he choked out.  After a quick inspection of his son’s body to determine if he had been injured, Ben noticed the blood-soaked towel tied off just below the boy’s right knee.  He gently unwrapped it and lifted the boy’s pant leg to see what had caused the bleeding.  *** That bastard shot my boy! *** Ben fumed as he carefully studied the damage done to his son.

Little Joe slowly emerged from the black depths of unconsciousness.  He blinked his eyes a few times as his father’s face slowly came into focus.

“Pa – Pa — I can’t breathe – I can’t breathe!” He cried out fearfully as he attempted to pull himself up on the table.

Ben moved back to the head of the table and carefully eased his son into a reclining position.  He had heard those exact words before and had witnessed the same kind of panic that was spreading across Joseph’s face.  It shook him to the core to hear his youngest saying them again.

*** It had been an incredibly agonizing ten days.  Seven of them had been spent worrying and trying to find out where Little Joe had been taken and who had done it and three since finding him in the cave.  Ben insisted that the little boy stay in his bedroom at night until he was sure that Joseph was emotionally prepared to sleep in his own bed.  Due to numerous nights spent without any sleep, Ben had gone down shortly after ten o’clock that night with Little Joe lying there at his side.  He hadn’t heard the voice right away, but he had felt the tiny hand that was urgently patting his face.  Shaking himself from his slumber Ben abruptly sat up and turned to see Little Joe sitting there next to him wearing an anguished expression.

“I can’t breathe, Papa! I can’t breathe!” Little Joe cried out as tears ran down his cheeks.

“You can’t breathe?” Ben returned, shaken from what he had just heard the little boy say.   He tried to determine whether Little Joe had simply had a nightmare and was still caught up in it or if he was truly having difficulty breathing.

“I can’t breathe, Papa!”

Studying the boy’s face, Ben could plainly see that he wasn’t turning blue from lack of oxygen.  He could also see the rising and falling of the little boy’s chest.  But if Little Joe believed that he couldn’t breathe then he knew that he’d have to do something to calm the boy.

“Here now—stretch out on the bed – I’ll help you, Son,” Ben instructed and eased the boy’s head back onto the pillow.  “We’re going to breathe together now — okay?”

“But – Papa I can’t breathe!”

“I know – it’s going to be alright.  Now, just listen to me, Joseph.  You and I are going to breathe together now.  Draw in the deepest breath you can,” Ben called softly as he drew in a breath to show his son how to do it.  The little boy drew in a deep breath too.  “Good – now you hold it like this,” Ben held his breath as he stared down at his son.  Joe did likewise and held his breath.  “Now just let it out real slow and easy.  That’s it — good boy,” Ben nodded to Little Joe as he watched him doing exactly as he had been instructed.

“Oh, Papa – I still can’t breathe!” he protested and sat back up.

Once again Ben eased the little boy back down and calmly went through the same procedure again.  After going through the routine of deep breaths and letting them out slowly a few times, Little Joe finally calmed down.

“Now, Son – how’s that?  You feel better, Joseph?” Ben whispered.

Little Joe nodded his head.  “I think I’m breathing now, Papa.”

Ben wrapped the little boy in his arms and settled back on his pillow.  He pulled Little Joe onto his shoulder trying to shelter him from his fears.  “Now you tell your Pa what happened to you and why you couldn’t breathe.”

“It was – it was,” Little Joe stopped himself as he buried his face in his father’s shoulder.  It was obvious to Ben that the little boy was petrified and no doubt it had been caused by the memories of his abduction.

“It was what, Son?”

“It was the bad man, Papa, he tooked my breath from me.”

Ben closed his eyes filled with intense anger over what had happened to his little boy combined with uncontrollable rage toward the evil person who had stolen him.  His son hadn’t said much for the three days he’d been home and now the boy had insisted that he couldn’t breathe and all due to the actions of one person; the bad man.

“It’s going to be alright, Joseph.  I’m never going to let the bad man take you away again,” Ben promised as he pressed his lips to the boy’s cheek and held him tightly in his arms. ***

Shaking himself from the haunted memories of what had happened twelve years ago, Ben stared down at his son who looked just as panicked as he had back then.

*** I failed you, Joseph.  I promised you that I’d never let anyone steal you away from me again.  And to think that the man I’d sent you to, so you’d get your hair cut was the one who had kidnapped you! *** Ben shook his head sadly as he moved next to his son, sitting down on the examination table.

In a pure panic, Little Joe cried out again, “I can’t breathe, Pa!  I can’t breathe!”

“It’s going to be alright, Son.  You and I are going to do this together.  Now take in a deep breath and hold it,” he coaxed the boy in the same fashion that he had done back when he was only five years old.  It had taken longer to convince his son now that he was older, but patiently Ben urged him to take a breath, hold it in and then expel it slowly.  “Now – is that better, Joseph?” He asked after going through several minutes of breathing along with the boy.

“Oh, Pa!  It was him – it was him all along,” Little Joe sobbed, covering his eyes with the palms of his hands.  It was then that he found himself pulled forward on the table.  Pa wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly in his loving embrace.

“It’s alright, Son – everything’s going to be alright,” Ben whispered.  His right hand moved onto the boy’s head and the fact that it was so devoid of curls pained his heart though he tried not to show it on his face.  It hadn’t mattered to him that the hair was gone, Ben gently stroked his son’s head, trying to instill a sense of calm in him.

“It – it was the bad man, Pa.”  Little Joe’s voice trembled as tears fell from his eyes.  His thoughts were filled with the terror he had experienced that night, along with all the repressed memories that he’d finally recalled.  Joe’s left hand reached up and touched the top of his head and then he passed out cold, still held in his father’s arms.

“Oh, Joseph – Joseph — I’m so sorry,” Ben whispered as he pulled the boy tightly against his chest.  He couldn’t help believing that he had failed his son and had, in fact, pushed him toward danger by insisting that he get a haircut.  Now, as he nervously rocked the boy in his arms, he couldn’t help feeling guilty.  When his chin fell onto the crown of Little Joe’s head, the fact that the curls were all gone hit him hard.  He glanced over to the wig block on the table next to where they sat.  Ben wondered exactly what Aram had done to his son.  Of course, there was the bullet wound in his leg and that was bad enough, but for some reason the horrible man had removed almost all his son’s hair, and Ben had no idea why.

Gently easing his son back on the examination table, Ben left him momentarily trying to find something to use over Little Joe’s wound.  After a thorough search of the room, he finally came up with another towel that appeared to be clean enough to use to staunch the flow of blood until he could get the boy back home.  Ben tied the fresh towel to his son’s leg and waited for Adam and Hoss to return so they could move Little Joe.

---

Hoss and Adam rode hard trying to catch up with the man who had gotten a good head start and was racing towards the river in his attempt to evade his capture.  Finally gaining on him, Adam signaled his brother and they both drew their guns.  Firing two warning shots in the air to let the man know they meant business; they had to duck down low in their saddles as he turned and fired at them.

“You go to the right, Hoss – I’ll try to get to him from the left!” Adam shouted as another bullet singed by his ear.

Hoss nodded and kicked at his horse’s sides, reining it hard to the right and continuing his hot pursuit of the man who had kidnapped his little brother.

Adam’s plan was beginning to pay off as he was only a few yards from gaining on Aram’s horse.  It was then that the man turned and shot at him, almost hitting his head.  Hoss had both seen and heard what happened and sent a bullet over at Aram as he came up close to his right side.

With the narrowing dirt trail making the riding more treacherous, Aram sent one final bullet from his gun as he tried to rein his horse hard right.  Hoss had almost been shot by the evil man and he returned fire.  His bullet hit its target, and Aram went flying out of his saddle and down the banks of the river.  He ended up in the rain swollen rapids; his body quickly disappearing from sight.

The Cartwright brothers reined their horses back hard as they jumped from their saddles.

“I hit him, Adam – I know I did!”  Hoss exclaimed, out of breath from the ride.  “Where’d he go?”

Adam stood on the riverbank and watched the fast-moving current.  He shook his head and sighed.  “I saw him fall into the river – after you shot him.  As fast as that current is now, he didn’t stand a chance even if your bullet didn’t kill him, he would’ve drowned.  We could go down stream some and try to recover the body – but he’s dead for sure.”

Hoss bent down when he spotted something lying just at the river’s edge.  He drew it up into his hands and his face went as white as snow.

“What is it?” Adam asked, as he came alongside his brother.

Sickened by what he had found, Hoss handed the object to Adam.

“Oh my God!”  Adam gasped as he held the thing in his hands.

“It’s – it’s – Little Joe’s hair,” Hoss whispered.  “Do you think that he killed the boy?”

Adam held the disgusting thing, wishing he’d never seen it.  “Let’s go and check – hopefully the kid’s alright.  We’d better take this with us – to show Roy.”

Hoss nodded and the two of them made their way back to their horses.

---

Ben had been sitting alongside his youngest, hoping that he would come back around but Joe hadn’t stirred at all.  He wondered if his other boys had caught up with Aram and was beginning to get worried until he heard the horses outside.  Ben stood and walked across the room.  Then, stepping outside, he closed the door behind him.  Ben didn’t want Little Joe to hear the conversation if he woke up.

“Pa – how’s Little Joe?” Hoss sang out as he approached his father.  They had both been scared that the boy had been killed after finding what they had down by the river.

Frowning, Ben shook his head sadly.  “He’s alive – but Aram must’ve shot the boy.”

“Is it bad?” Adam jumped into the conversation.

Shrugging his shoulders, Ben replied, “It took him in the leg – but looks like the bullet passed straight through.  Your little brother has lost a lot of blood.  We need to get him home and send for Doc.”

“Do you know what else Aram did to the kid?” Adam continued, knowing that he’d have to show his father the object Hoss had found.

Ben studied the expressions that his two sons wore.  “No, I don’t.  Joseph only came around for a few minutes.”

Hoss and Adam exchanged sorrowful glances and neither wanted to address the topic of what Aram had obviously done to the boy.

“Better come over here a minute, Pa,” Adam announced and walked over to his horse.

Ben walked next to his two boys and came to an abrupt stop when he spotted what Adam pulled out of his saddlebags.  He closed his eyes and winced upon seeing the hair; Joseph’s hair.

“We chased him down to the Truckee River, Pa.  He was shooting at the two of us and I guess one of my bullets hit him hard enough to send him flying into the rapids.  Aram went into the river – but his body must’ve ended up down stream somewhere.  I found that,” Hoss said and pointed to the hairpiece that his father was holding in his hands.

Ben coughed to loosen the tightness in his throat and handed the hair back to his eldest boy.  “I guess you’d better show that to Roy when you get into town.”

“Those are Little Joe’s curls, Pa — did Aram give the boy a haircut?” Hoss’ confusion bled out in his question.

“He cut each of those curls down at the root.  The poor kid only has about a half of an inch of hair now,” Ben groaned at the mere thought of it.

“Oh, Lord,” Hoss returned, knowing what his hair had always meant to his little brother.  “Why do you think he done it, Pa?”

Ben shrugged his shoulders and replied, “That’s a hairpiece, Son.  For some insane reason that evil man was obsessed with Joseph’s hair.  He took that one curl from him when he was only five years old – and I guess he had been planning to take all the boy’s hair.  When Pete told Aram about that hypnotist and he learned why we’d sent for the man, I guess he decided to take Joe again.”

“I can’t imagine Joe would’ve let him do it,” Adam added.

“Your brother was tied down onto some sort of an examination table here inside,” Ben motioned towards the building behind him.  “It had to be traumatic to just lie there as one by one those curls were cut from his head.”

“Can we see him?” Hoss asked worriedly.

“Adam,” Ben began as he stared across the yard.  “Aram left his buckboard and that team of horses.  Hoss and I will get Joseph home – I need you to fetch the doctor.”

Adam nodded and turned for his horse.  He mounted Sport and stared down at his father.  “Anything else you need me to do?  I guess I’d better tell Roy we found Little Joe – and show him the thing.”

“Yes – better stop by the hotel – and let Doctor Iverson know that we won’t be needing his services.  Tell him I’ll gladly pay him for his time – but – I believe Joseph has finally recalled what happened to him twelve years ago.  He mentioned that name – the bad man – when he came around for a few minutes.”

“I’ll handle it – see you two back home,” Adam nodded and turned his horse out of the yard and headed to town.

“What do you need me to do, Pa?”

Ben patted his son on the back and replied, “You can carry the boy out to that wagon.  Best tie our horses to the back.  I’m going to ride in the bed of the buckboard with your brother just in case he wakes up.  Oh – and Hoss?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Don’t say a word about the way that the boy looks if he does happen to come around before we get home, okay?”

Nodding, and with a grim expression taking over his face, Hoss answered, “No – Pa – I won’t say nothing.”

The two men walked inside the building and prepared to get Little Joe ready for the long ride back to the Ponderosa.

---

Late that afternoon Ben stood in Little Joe’s bedroom and watched as Doctor Paul Martin finished suturing the two wounds in the boy’s leg and then closed his black medical bag.

Concerned about the gunshot wound and worried over the fact that his son hadn’t awakened the whole trip back to the ranch, Ben stepped closer to the bed and asked, “What do you think, Paul?”

“Fortunately, that bullet missed the bone and went straight through his calf.  Joe’s lost a lot of blood so he needs rest and to stay off that leg for a few weeks.  It’s nothing that won’t heal, Ben,” Doc tried to reassure the man, seeing how exhausted he was at the time.

Letting out a deep sigh, Ben dropped his hand down onto his son’s head and then turned to look back up at the doctor.  “I can’t believe Aram did all this to my son.  I wouldn’t ever have suspected that he was the one who kidnapped the boy twelve years ago.

“You didn’t have any way of knowing, Ben – now stop beating yourself up about all this.  None of us would’ve ever guessed that Aram was the man who had taken Joe back when he was five.  You never know a person’s deepest darkest thoughts – or what would cause them to act them out.”

“He had to have been insane to take Joseph’s hair like that – and to weave it into a hairpiece!”

Paul nodded and set a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.  “It’s going to take a while for the boy to get over this.  But – in time he will.  From what you told me it sounds like Little Joe has recovered his memories – and that might help him in the long run.  He couldn’t have continued his nightly treks down into your kitchen much longer, Ben.  Just be patient with Joe –and hopefully he’ll open up to you.”

“Thanks, Paul.   Can you stay for supper?” Ben offered the man both an invitation to eat with the family and a grateful smile.

“I’d like to, but I’ve got to head back to town.  Now I want you to get some rest!  That’s doctor’s orders, by the way.  Either Hoss or Adam can watch the boy for a few hours.  You’ve just got to get some sleep, or you’ll be in your own sick bed!”

“I will,” Ben nodded and walked the doctor to the bedroom door.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to see how the boy is doing.  Goodbye, Ben.”

“Thanks as always, Paul,” Ben offered the man a handshake and then turned back to his son’s bed and sat down in the chair.

---

“Pa?” Hoss tapped on his father’s bedroom door.

Ben hadn’t realized he had been asleep for close to eight hours until he’d heard his son’s knock on his door and glanced over at the clock on his nightstand.  He pulled on his robe and slid into his slippers.

“Hoss – sorry – I wasn’t planning on being down this long,” Ben apologized as he moved out into the hall.

“Pa, you needed the rest,” Hoss insisted.  “That’s what Doc told us before you went to bed around eight last night.  I’m glad you slept like you did.  He hasn’t been any trouble, Pa, Adam and me have been taking turns watching Little Joe.”

“How is the boy?” Ben asked as he headed across the hall.

“He’s been asleep the whole time – but he’s moving around in the bed a little bit now.  I think he’s finally coming back around.”

Ben and Hoss quietly crept into Little Joe’s room and stopped alongside the bed.  Staring down at the boy, they watched as he slowly rocked his head from side to side, without making a sound.  Every now and then they witnessed what looked like a grimace appearing on his face and both men wondered if Joe was reliving his terrible ordeal in his dreams again.

“It’s alright, Son,” Ben whispered and set his hand on Joe’s shoulder hoping to bring him around gently.  He turned and looked up at Hoss.  “I’ve got it for the rest of the morning, Son.  You head to bed now.”

“You sure, Pa?  I don’t mind staying.”

Ben patted his son’s arm and nodded, “I’m sure.  Goodnight, Son.”

Hoss quietly walked out of his brother’s bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Little Joe slowly opened and closed his eyelids a few times trying to focus in on the man sitting on the side of his bed.

“Joseph?” Ben whispered and set a hand onto his son’s arm.

*** “Joseph – I’ve missed you so much!  It’s alright, Joseph – your Pa’s got you now.  Nobody’s ever going to take you away from me again.”  Little Joe saw his father there inside the cage next to him and watched as Pa reached out to pull him closer.  He smelled the mixture of bay rum cologne and pipe tobacco and suddenly realized that his Papa was really there.  The next minute he was up in his father’s arms.  Little Joe felt the kisses being planted on each of his cheeks and the comfort of his father’s arms as they held him close to his chest. ***

Blinking back the sudden onslaught of tears, Little Joe looked up at his father sitting there on the bed next to him.  “Pa?”

“I’m here, Joseph – I’m here,” Ben choked out as he gathered the boy up into his arms and held him close.

“Pa – it was him – it was the bad man,” Joe whispered, his eyes scanning the room expecting to see Aram standing there with those shears in his hand.

“I know, Son – I know.”

“I couldn’t get away, Pa – I couldn’t stop him,” Little Joe raised his left hand up to his head and felt the scant amount of hair that was left there.  He dropped his face down onto his father’s shoulder and wept.

Gently pulling the boy back some, Ben placed his hands on either side of his son’s face.  Using his thumbs, Pa tenderly brushed back the tears as they fell from Little Joe’s eyes and whispered, “You made it out of there alive, Son – and that’s all that matters to me.  It’s going to take some time – but the memories will fade.”

“No, Pa – I’ll never forget – never.  I can still hear those shears – and feel him tugging on every curl on my head – until they were all gone,” he cried, staring into his father’s eyes, hoping that Pa would understand the terror he had endured.  It wasn’t just the matter of having his hair stolen from his head, it was in living through the experience of it that made it that much more terrifying.  Joe would never forget seeing that man standing there in front of him wearing that hairpiece which had been made from those curls; his curls.  “He took them, Pa – he took them all from me.”

In his mind Ben could still hear the cries of his five-year-old son and he remembered how sad Joseph had looked the night that he told him about what the bad man had done to him.

“The bad man – he tooked my best one,” Little Joe whimpered.  He lifted his left hand and combed his fingers through his bangs, pulling them out from his forehead.  “Papa the bad man – he tooked it.”

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Ben stared over at the seventeen-year-old boy there in front of him.  He knew that his son was overwhelmed by all that Aram had done to him and there wasn’t much that he could offer the boy until he had some time to come to terms with both his pain and his loss.  He simply sat there next to Joseph and held him to his chest, comforting him in the only way he knew how.  Just because there wasn’t any hair on the boy’s head didn’t mean that his father wasn’t going to slowly run his hand over it, as if the curls were still there; and that’s exactly what he did.

“He’s gone for good now, Joseph —- and he’ll never hurt you again,” Ben whispered, hoping that one statement might help the boy, at least a little bit.

“The bad man always finds me, Pa,” Little Joe choked out.

“Not anymore, Son – not anymore.”

A few minutes later, Ben felt the boy’s body going lax held there in his arms.  He realized that Little Joe’s mind and body had given in to exhaustion.  He gently eased his son back against the pillows and pulled the sheet and blanket up over his shoulders.  Staring down at his youngest, Ben whispered, “The bad man is never coming back, Son.”  Then he settled down into the chair next to the bed.  It would be another long night.

---

The first two days after he had been brought home Little Joe hadn’t done much more than sleep and eat some light food that Hop Sing had forced on him.  Everyone could tell that the boy was well spent after his grueling experience and that he just needed some rest so his body could heal.  Doctor Martin had come by each day just to make sure that Little Joe’s leg wound was healing properly and to offer his father some moral support.  It hadn’t been until the third night since returning home that the boy wanted to talk with his father and sort some things out with him.

“I still don’t understand, Pa,” Joe said, shaking his head.  “Why didn’t you ever tell me that I was kidnapped from the house when I was five years old?”

Ben could see that his son was having trouble sorting through all the information he had offered him earlier in the day and patiently tried to explain.

“Joseph, you had a rough time of it back then – you were just so young when you were taken out of here.  And when you got home you blocked everything that you went through in that cave from your mind.  Then a few years later you began to sleepwalk like I told you earlier today.  Doc and I thought that you’d eventually recover your memories, but we were afraid to push you to do it.  But after your most recent bout with sleepwalking, we decided to try to get that hypnotist that Harden found to help you, so you’d finally get over it.  Unfortunately, by the time he had arrived in Virginia City it was too late.”

“I don’t remember going into the kitchen to hide, Pa – other than the day when the man in the mask took me out of that corner.  Everything started to come back to me the minute that Mister Cullen said those first few words to me – right before he put that rag over my mouth.  He said “all little boys love peppermint” – that’s what forced me to remember.  But by then it was too late and he’d captured me.”

Ben shook his head and placed a hand on his son’s arm hoping to provide some form of comfort for the boy.  “That had to be terrifying, Joseph.”

“It was,” He nodded adamantly.  “But what he did to me later – was a whole lot worse.  I hope these nightmares will go away, Pa.  I’ve woke up to them the last two nights – and I relive him cutting my hair off one curl at a time.”

“They’ll go away, Joseph – just give it some time,” Ben reassured the boy.

“Hoss and Adam told me what happened – to him – and how he went into the river.”

Ben nodded and replied, “He’ll never hurt you again.  I promised you that years ago – and I’m sorry.  I never thought he’d come back.”

Little Joe touched his father’s face and stared up at him, “Pa – you had no way of knowing – none of us did.”

Knowing that his son was trying to ease his mind about the promises he had made to him, Ben smiled.  “Well, he’s never coming back again.  Now, Young Man – how about getting some sleep?”

“Alright,” Joe nodded and then cast a precarious glance at the lamp on the nightstand.  “Could you just leave that up for now?” He asked, worried that he would wake up to another nightmare about having his hair cut off.

Standing from the chair, Ben returned, “How about I stay with you until you fall to sleep?”

Little Joe shook his head.  “No – I’ll be okay, Pa.  Go get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Son,” he whispered.  Bending down he gently swiped a hand across his son’s head and planted a kiss on his brow.

“Goodnight,” the boy said and watched as his father walked out of the room.

---

Hoss and Adam stood in the hallway and waited for their father to reappear after saying goodnight to their little brother.  They had been worried over the fact that Little Joe had been having nightmares again and wanted to find out if they could do anything to help.

“Is he asleep, Pa?” Adam questioned as Ben closed the bedroom door.

“Not yet,” Ben sighed wearily as he looked from one son to the other.  “But he’s going to try.”

“How about if I stay with him for a little while?” Hoss asked.

Shaking his head, Ben set a hand on his middle boy’s shoulder and replied.  “No – your little brother wants to try it alone tonight.  We’ll hear him if he wakes up, Boys.  Now you both go on to bed it’s getting late.”

“What about you, Pa?” Adam continued as he eyed his father and was surprised that he wasn’t hovering over the youngest like he usually did, especially when the kid was hurt.  And he knew that Little Joe had been hurt in a lot of ways this time.

“I’m going to bed,” Ben insisted.  “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Hoss and Adam watched as Pa walked across the hall and disappeared inside his bedroom.

“Hard to believe he’s giving up that easily,” Adam quipped.

“Yeah – well – I guess if Pa ain’t worried then we shouldn’t be neither.  Let’s grab some shuteye.  We can listen out in case Little Joe has another one of his nightmares.”

“You’re right.  Goodnight, Hoss,” Adam nodded and walked inside his room.

---

“It’s quiet in there now – do you think we ought to go and see if Little Joe’s okay?” Hoss asked yawning.  Hours after they had gone to sleep the two men had been awakened by the sound coming from their brother’s room a few minutes earlier but by the time they had made it out into the hallway everything was quiet again.

“I don’t know, Hoss.  I’m just surprised that Little Joe didn’t wake Pa up this time.  That’s a rare thing, you know?  Pa always wakes up the minute that the boy has a nightmare.” Adam returned.

“Pa went down hours ago – it’s about four now.  Maybe he didn’t hear him?”

“I think I’ll just peek in on Little Joe – if he’s asleep, I’ll just come right back out.”

Hoss nodded and waited out in the hall while Adam gently eased Little Joe’s bedroom door open.  A few seconds later he noticed Adam waving for him to come closer.

“Our Pa isn’t the least bit worried about that boy,” Adam whispered and pointed across the room.

Hoss smiled as he stared over to Little Joe’s bed where his brother was fast asleep.  Pa was lying on top of the covers next to the boy with his hand resting on Little Joe’s left arm.  Their father was sound asleep.

“You reckon when Pa went in there?”

“Knowing our father probably about a second after he’d heard us closing our bedroom doors,” Adam grinned.

“Looks like we woke up for nothing.  Let’s go back to bed, Adam,” Hoss whispered and they quietly eased out of Little Joe’s bedroom.

Epilogue

A week after Little Joe had been rescued his nightmares stopped being a nightly occurrence and instead had become sporadic in nature.  Ben wasn’t hovering quite as much as he had been, and the talk of Aram Cullen had, for the most part, died down.

“Pa?” Adam called as he walked inside the ranch house.  He watched as his father came in from the kitchen.

“Back from town so soon?” he asked as he drew close to his eldest.

“Yeah,” Adam nodded and then motioned towards the fireplace.  “I’ve got to talk to you about something.”

Ben witnessed the odd look on his son’s face and followed him over to the settee.  Sitting down in the red leather chair he stared over at Adam.

“Is there some kind of trouble, Son?”

Adam gave a slight shrug to his shoulders and replied, “I wouldn’t exactly call it trouble, Pa.  But I saw Roy today.”

“And?”

“Well, he told me that since there’s not going to be a trial, due to the circumstances – that he doesn’t need to keep a hold of what Aram left on the riverbank.”

“Oh,” Ben frowned and bit at his bottom lip.  “Where is it?”

With a quick tilt of his head, Adam said, “Out in my saddlebags.  I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with it, Pa.”

Ben’s gaze went up the staircase thinking about his youngest.  “I never mentioned a thing about it to Joseph.  I thought it was best that he didn’t know that any of us saw it.  I know he did – though he didn’t come right out and say that he had – I could tell by what Joseph didn’t say.”

“That kid went through the unimaginable,” Adam nodded.  “Do you want me to just throw it away?”

Standing from his chair Ben paced in front of the fireplace for a few minutes and then replied, “Bury it somewhere in the back yard.  And be sure to remind Hoss not to ever say one word about it.”

“Okay, Pa,” Adam agreed and stood back up. “I’ll get rid of it now – and I’ll let Hoss know.”

“Thank you, Son,” Ben nodded and watched as his eldest walked outside.  He closed his eyes and thought back on the way he had felt the minute he had seen the hairpiece and knew that it held his son’s curls; all of them.

---

It was three o’clock in the morning and the house was dead quiet, save for the occasional pop of a dying ember in the fireplace.  Little Joe had made his way down the hall without alerting his father or brothers.  Though his regular gait was inhibited by his leg wound he managed to get down the staircase without making any noise.   He crossed the living room and made his way to the kitchen.  Joe had awakened with a paralyzing fear that he just couldn’t shake, and he knew that he had to confront what had happened to him, so he’d be able to deal with the present.  And Little Joe knew that he’d have to begin with the memory of being taken at the age of five.

“Joseph?” Ben’s voice was hushed due to the lateness of the hour and because he hadn’t wanted to startle the boy who was standing in front of the sink staring over at the corner of the room.  When a few minutes passed without the boy having taken notice of him being there, Ben moved closer to him.  He wondered if Little Joe was getting ready to seek shelter in his familiar hiding place as he had often seen him do.

“Joseph?” He called again and dropped a hand down onto the boy’s shoulder.  “Son, I went in to check on you, and you weren’t in your bed — it worried me.”

Little Joe turned his head and looked up at his father standing there with such a peculiar expression on his face.

“It’s okay, Pa – I’m not sleepwalking – I just needed to come down here,” he whispered.

“What is it, Son?  Did you have another nightmare?”

Nodding his head, Little Joe answered, his voice having a quality to it that was both hushed and unsteady, “Yeah, Pa, I had another one — I can’t shake it off.”

“Doc wants you to stay off that leg, Joseph.  Let’s get you back up to your bed.  We can talk about that dream up in your room.”

“No, Pa – I woke up with an uneasy feeling – like something’s going to happen,” he explained and then mindlessly reached for the top of his head.

Ben had witnessed his son’s latest habit of touching his head as though he was trying to figure out where his curls had gone.  He wouldn’t mention it to the boy.  Turning his son around so he could look directly into his eyes, Ben could easily read the fear in them.

“Joseph – he’s dead,” He began and hoped that he could finally get through to the boy.

“He fell into that river, Pa – but they never found his body,” Little Joe returned, trying his best to prevent the mounting feeling of dread from coming out in his words.

“Hoss shot him – and he went into the river – and drowned.”

Dropping his head down to his chest, Joe whispered, “No way of knowing that, Pa.”  Again, the boy put a hand to his head and frowned.

Ben pulled his son into his arms, holding him close to his chest.  “Hoss killed him,” he stated firmly.

Little Joe stared intently into his father’s eyes and replied in a haunting whisper, “You can never kill the bad man, Pa.”

Staring over to the corner of the kitchen next to the sink, Ben closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for his youngest, hoping with all his heart that Joseph wouldn’t end up returning there in the future.  He cast an uneasy glance across the room and then slowly eased over to the kitchen door, never releasing his son from his protective embrace.  Ben reached a firm hand up to the thick metal slide bolt, testing it with a strong tug to make sure that it was securely locked into place.  Then, wrapping an arm around the boy’s shoulder, Ben slowly walked Joseph up the stairs and into his room.  One unsettling thought played in his head.  He wondered if the nightmare of what had happened would ever truly be gone from their minds or if it would always haunt them like those three words had for so many years; the bad man.

The End

Written by Wrangler

9/24/2026

(Dedicated to Rob the story consultant who thought this was creepy.  And to two readers who both wanted this thing, RJC for the “rats’ in the story, and Rosalyn because she likes mysteries.)