Purple twilight was creeping across the sky, sending tendrils of darkness across the land. Little Joe and Adam had been riding without stopping, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the band of outlaws as they could. They had moved at as fast a pace as they had dared, having to cope with riding bareback, and making sure that their mounts did not tire. Now finally, their destination lay in view. A tiny shack, with a rickety front porch, a single window and a door came into view. A faded sign reading “Stage Way Station” was mounted above the doorway and appeared to be hanging by one rusty nail.

Adam pointed to the shack and said in relief, “We’ve finally made it Joe. We’re going to pull up here for the night.”

Little Joe looked at the shack and hesitated. “But, Adam, those men behind us are gonna know we’re in here. Wouldn’t it be better if we made a camp somewhere?” He shook his head doubtfully. “We’re gonna be sitting ducks in here.”

Adam sighed. “I know Joe. But we really don’t have much choice. All we have with us is what we’ve got in these saddlebags. We’re not equipped to set up a camp somewhere. At least the shack will give us some protection. We’re just going to have to keep watch to make sure that those men don’t sneak up on us in the night.” He tied his horse to the hitching post in front of the way station as he spoke, then stretched wearily, feeling his back creak in protest.

After another brief hesitation, Little Joe dismounted and hitched his horse to the rail as well. He walked to the porch of the shack, and peered into the interior of the dark, little building. The interior of the building was as unprepossessing as the exterior. A rickety chair, a table that rocked on wobbly legs, and a single narrow cot graced the room. A tiny fireplace, choked with old ashes and debris stood on one wall. Joe let out a whistle. “It’s not much to look at, but I guess it’ll have to do.” he said tiredly. “I’ll go gather some firewood, Adam, if you want to see to the horses. I’ll try to rustle up some game while I’m at it.” Joe strode off into the night.

Adam began to settle the horses down for the night. They had worked hard all day, and stood wearily at the hitching rail. They seemed grateful for the attention being bestowed on them, and Adam found a brief moment of relaxation as he bedded them down. As he removed the saddlebags from the backs of the horses, he was reminded of the presence of the necklace. He thought briefly, and then quickly removed the necklace from the box. If for some reason those men caught up with them, Adam wanted to make sure that the necklace was safe. He scanned the area, and then his eyes lit up. He had found the perfect hiding place for the valuable jewels.

The sound of a shot echoed through the night, and several minutes later Little Joe returned to the way station with his arms full of firewood, and carrying the carcass of a rabbit. He entered the small building to find that Adam had swept the fireplace clean of the debris that had filled it, and had readied the space for a fire. Joe dropped his load of wood, smiled briefly at his brother, and then took the rabbit outside to skin and dress for cooking. Adam quickly built up a small fire. When Joe brought the rabbit back in, the two men prepared their simple meal, and then sat by the fire to eat.

“Do you think they’re still after us, Adam?” Joe asked softly. His eyes were shadowed, but Adam thought he could see a hint of nervousness in them.

“Probably,” Adam replied. “We’re going to have to take turns keeping watch tonight, Joe. We don’t want any surprises. Those men are killers, and we’re the only things in the way of them getting that necklace. They won’t hesitate to kill us both if that’s what they think they need to do.”

Adam looked with concern at his younger brother. Joe was drooping with exhaustion. His muscles were tense, and his skin seemed pale. “I’ll take the first watch, little brother. You get some rest.”

After a token protest, Little Joe lay down on the narrow cot, and rolled himself into the filthy, ragged blanket that served as its covering. It was a matter of minutes before the sound of his soft, even breathing filled the room. Adam’s eyes softened as he looked at the face of his youngest brother. In sleep Little Joe appeared impossibly young, younger even than his eighteen years. Involuntarily, Adam’s hand went to Joe’s soft head of curls, and he lightly stroked his brother’s head. Little Joe sighed in his sleep, and nestled more deeply into the tattered blanket. Adam carefully withdrew his hand, determined not to wake his brother, and then went to take up a position by the window. It was going to be a long night.