Summary:\u00a0 When fifteen-year-old Joe tries to impress a new friend on the Ponderosa, it leads to dangerous repercussions for both Joe and Adam.<\/p>\n
Rating: T\u00a0 (22, 275 words)<\/p>\n
Measure of a Man<\/strong><\/p>\n 1<\/p>\n I awake, coughing, and stare into darkness. A voice I know calls my name. A familiar smell hangs in my nostrils. It\u2019s hard to breathe. I cough again, choking this time, struggling for air.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam!\u201d says the voice. \u201cCan you hear me, Adam? Wake up! Please!\u201d<\/p>\n What is that smell? Why am I choking?\u00a0\u00a0 Yellow light flickers in tiny patches in front of my eyes. Joe. It\u2019s Joe calling my name. Why does he sound so frightened?<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s coughing too. Loud thuds vibrate close to my ear. Joe\u2019s voice swears, on a rising pitch, and is drowned out by more thumps and bangs. There are other sounds too. Hissing noises, and cracking, and a sound like the roar of the wind. I try to locate my brother, but my head won\u2019t cooperate. As a buzzing blackness rises to engulf me, I finally understand what\u2019s happening.<\/p>\n The cabin\u2019s on fire. We are trapped.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 2<\/strong><\/p>\n When Sam and Jack Deverell rode up to the house, looking for work, it was like a godsend to me. Much as I loved the Ponderosa, I\u2019d been restless and distracted for a long time. There were times when I secretly hankered after more than ranch work, even if I didn\u2019t say it out loud. Hoss and Joe wouldn\u2019t have understood my discontent. This place, this life, it suits them both, as if it were made to fit, but for me, it wasn\u2019t enough. It\u2019s not as if I have specific plans for a life beyond the Ponderosa, just a nagging desire, an itch, to see other places, learn something new, meet interesting people who think differently and have something different to say. I think Pa suspected, even if he didn\u2019t put those suspicions into words. After all, he\u2019d spared me for four years, to go away to college. I wouldn\u2019t have missed those four years for anything, but sometimes I wondered if they had made the longing worse; given me a taster for something I could not have. Not yet, at any rate. The Ponderosa needed me; Pa needed me. A place the size of ours took a great deal of management, as well as good, old-fashioned hard work. It had grown substantially, even in the six years since I\u2019d returned from Boston, and though Hoss was now able to shoulder more of the responsibility, his strengths didn\u2019t lie in paperwork. And just lately, there was more and more of that to be done: payrolls and legal documents, letters, contracts, inventories, accounts; the administration of a ranch the size of ours was never ending. My attempts to interest Joe in learning more about the business side of things had all been in vain. He\u2019d never been keen on book-learning, even though he was a whole lot more intelligent than he led people to believe. I knew, with a little effort and application, he could do it, but at fifteen, he was still a restless kid with no inclination to be cooped up inside the house with a desk full of papers and ledgers. So, for the time being, at least, Pa was relying on having me around to keep our growing spread running smoothly. And so it was; my interests, outside of the Ponderosa, were necessarily limited.<\/p>\n I did have a couple of projects of my own I was working on, one in particular I was eager to pursue. I\u2019d been contacted by Daniel Brayforth, an old college friend of mine who now ran a law firm in Placerville. Daniel had always had a keen business head on his shoulders, and when he\u2019d heard about a large plot of prime building land on the edge of town, he\u2019d spotted the potential straight away. With the population of Placerville soaring, his plan was to build houses, to let. He\u2019d offered me a partnership, if I could raise half of the capital to seal the deal. The proposition was doubly attractive to me because Daniel had asked me to design the buildings and oversee the construction work. It had been a long time since I\u2019d had the chance to exercise my engineering skills on a major project, and I\u2019d jumped at the opportunity.<\/p>\n Unfortunately, the whole plan clashed with difficult times on the Ponderosa. With the silver bonanza, the mines were thriving. Finding men to work the ranch had become ever more difficult with higher wages in the mines luring more and more men underground. Our rates were better than the smaller ranches round and about, but even we couldn\u2019t compete with the kind of incentives the mine companies were able to offer. Being short-handed meant I had even less time to spare for my own projects, so when the Deverell brothers rode into the yard, I jumped at the chance to hire them. Sam Deverell was six foot four and built like my brother, Hoss: a bear of a man who could take down a steer single-handedly, without even breaking a sweat, while his brother, Jack, was shorter and leaner in build, but still a force to be reckoned with. Both were seasoned cattlemen. The timing for the Placerville project was perfect; I could hardly believe my luck.<\/p>\n With the two men came Jack\u2019s son, Charlie. At sixteen, he was less than a year older than Little Joe, although a stranger would have been forgiven for thinking there were years rather than months between the two boys. Little Joe was wiry and tough, but there was still more child than man in his appearance, whereas Charlie was already as tall as many men twice his age. Despite their physical differences, however, the two of them had soon struck up a friendship. I guess that was natural. Until Charlie came along, Hoss had been next closest in age to Little Joe. And Charlie and Joe had a lot in common. They both exuded restless energy, and were fearless and relentlessly competitive, especially in the saddle. Watching the two of them together made me feel about as old as Pa.<\/p>\n The day I hired the Deverells, Pa and Hoss were away, in Reno. By the time they arrived back in Virginia City, some days later, the newcomers had settled in, Joe and Charlie were already bosom buddies, and I was feeling exceptionally pleased with myself. Best of all, with the extra help, I could indulge my own interests, immersing myself in drawing up plans and calculations for the Placerville project, working on financial projections and investment potentials, secure in the knowledge that chores on the ranch weren\u2019t falling behind. All was well. Or, so I thought. So when Hoss\u2014at breakfast, three weeks after the Deverells\u2019 arrival on the Ponderosa\u2014put down his coffee cup, looked at me and said, \u201cWhat do you make of that Sam Deverell feller?\u201d I was taken by surprise.<\/p>\n What was he expecting me to say? Sure, I\u2019d hired the man, but since then, I\u2019d had little to do with him, other than wave him good day and pat myself on the back for finding a man so physically suited to the tough work of ranching. I spent much of my working day in the office, or at the desk in my room, working on plans and calculations. My concentration had been totally absorbed by my Placerville venture, which was now shaping up very nicely.<\/p>\n \u201cSeems very capable,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n I could tell by Hoss\u2019s face he wasn\u2019t of the same mind.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy? You worried about him?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss looked at Pa. \u201cWhat d\u2019you reckon, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHmm,\u201d said Pa, with that same expression of doubt in his voice that Hoss had had, \u201cI get the impression he\u2019s not too popular with some of the other hands.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d Hoss nodded. \u201cMe too.\u201d<\/p>\n I suppressed a slight niggle of annoyance. The man was built like a human ox. He knew all about cattle, and he had the strength of four regular men. What could there be to complain about?<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d I asked again. \u201cWhat\u2019s he done?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh,\u201d said Pa, \u201cI\u2019m not sure he\u2019s done anything. Yet. It\u2019s\u2026his manner. Sometimes he\u2019s a little\u2026confrontational.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMore\u2019n a little.\u201d Hoss wrinkled his face. \u201cA feller that size shouldn\u2019 oughta bully folks like he does.\u201d<\/p>\n This was all news to me; news I didn\u2019t really want to hear. \u201cWho\u2019s he been bullying?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve seen him trying to start trouble with a few of the fellers,\u201d said Hoss.<\/p>\n I shrugged off Hoss\u2019s concerns with a degree of impatience. After all, ranch hands were rough by nature. Disagreements, even fist fights, were common enough. \u201cI\u2019m sure things\u2019ll settle down.\u201d<\/p>\n That was the end of the subject for that day. And it seemed to me I was right; I didn\u2019t hear any other complaints, and I put Sam Deverell out of my mind. I had more important things to be thinking about, such as raising the eight thousand dollars for my share of the Placerville deal. Then, a few days later, after I\u2019d been working on my drawings all evening and was about to get ready for bed, Hoss tapped on the door.<\/p>\n He raised his eyebrows when he saw all the papers spread about my desk. \u201cYou been busy. Heard any more from Daniel?\u201d<\/p>\n I folded the diagrams I\u2019d been finishing. \u201cEverything\u2019s more or less ready to be signed, sealed and delivered. The bank\u2019s agreed to the loan, and I\u2019m planning to head over to Placerville end of next week. Want to come with me?\u201d<\/p>\n My brother\u2019s face was always easy to read. Something was troubling him. \u201cReckon I\u2019m needed here,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019d just be for a few days,\u201d I told him. \u201cPa\u2019d spare you for that time, I\u2019m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe,\u201d he said, in a tone lacking any conviction.<\/p>\n I stopped my tidying to look at him more closely. \u201cWhat\u2019s up? Something bothering you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d he said, and I could hear relief in his voice that I\u2019d noticed. \u201cMatter of fact, there is. It\u2019s Little Joe and that Charlie Deverell.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about them? Thought they were getting along just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d Hoss frowned down at the floor. \u201c\u2019Ceptin\u2019, I ain\u2019t so sure.\u201d<\/p>\n I rolled up some papers and stacked them on the shelf. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI ain\u2019t sure Charlie\u2019s company is doin\u2019 Joe a whole lotta good. I mean, Little Joe\u2019s no angel, I know that, but that Charlie, well, he\u2019s a whole heap of trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n I confess to a vague irritation at Hoss\u2019s revelation. My new project had plenty of challenges of its own, and the petty day-to-day problems of the Ponderosa seemed mundane by comparison. In truth, I\u2019d been so involved in my own affairs, I\u2019d hardly noticed what my youngest brother had been getting up to. Joe\u2019s youthful ebullience and stubborn hard-headedness were exhausting at the best of times, and I\u2019d secretly been enjoying the peace and quiet of working almost exclusively in my own company. Surely it wasn\u2019t too much to expect that Pa and Hoss could manage my troublesome little brother without having to drag me into it every time.<\/p>\n I sighed to myself, my concentration more on counting my pencils back into their box than on Hoss\u2019s concerns. \u201cWhat trouble, exactly?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSheriff caught me in town \u2019safternoon. Seems like Joe an\u2019 Charlie done started a fight there yesterday with some of the mining boys.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStarted it? Why?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRoy said he didn\u2019 rightly know. Couldn\u2019 get to the bottom of why. He tol\u2019 me \u2019cause he was worried \u2019bout Little Joe. Said when he broke up the fight, Joe was real sassy to him.\u201d<\/p>\n I shrugged my shoulders as I shut the pencil box in the drawer. \u201cSo, they\u2019re boys. They fight. I\u2019m pretty sure Roy knows how to deal with that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, but he ain\u2019t just loud mouthin\u2019 the sheriff. He\u2019s doin\u2019 it to me an\u2019 Pa too. You tellin\u2019 me you ain\u2019t noticed?\u201d<\/p>\n I frowned, reluctant to admit I hadn\u2019t paid any attention to Joe for a good couple of weeks. \u201cHe\u2019s fifteen,\u201d I said, as though that explained everything. \u201cCharlie\u2019s older than he is, taller, bigger. More worldly-wise. Guess it\u2019s natural for Joe to want to be like him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. Worldly-wise is right!\u201d said Hoss with so much feeling, I finally gave him my full attention.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s the other thing that\u2019s worryin\u2019 me, Adam. \u2019Bout Little Joe an\u2019 Charlie. The kind of things they talk about.\u201d<\/p>\n I waited for him to go on, but I could see him struggling. I knew him well enough to understand his hesitation. He and Joe had always been close, and Hoss\u2014faithful as ever\u2014 never wanted to betray his younger brother.<\/p>\n I\u2019d guessed what he was about to say, but I prompted him anyway. \u201cWhat kind of things?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2019Bout women. Hoss sighed, resigning himself to his treachery. \u201cI overheard \u2019em this morning. It was like they was comparin\u2019 notes. Jokin\u2019 an\u2019 laughin\u2019.\u201d He wrinkled his nose as though he\u2019d detected a bad smell in the room. \u201cIf Pa\u2019d heard the kind of things they was saying, he\u2019d\u2019a\u2019 skinned Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n I was amused by Hoss\u2019s apparent prissiness. \u201cCan\u2019t imagine Joe has a lot of notes to compare,\u201d I said, laughing off Hoss\u2019s concerns. \u201cNot yet, anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, well, I reckon most of it was jus\u2019 flannel, but it sure didn\u2019t sound pretty.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou and I were that age once, \u201cI reminded him. \u201cYou remember what it was like.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2019Course I do. An\u2019 I was full of bullshit too. What kid ain\u2019t? Thing is, Adam, this wa\u2019n\u2019t the regular kind of stuff. An\u2019 it weren\u2019t jus\u2019 mouth neither. Leastways, not from Charlie. You can tell when a kid\u2019s all mouth. Charlie\u2019s done been there. He knows it all, an\u2019 more.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, come on Hoss, there\u2019re plenty of boys his age know their way around a woman.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, I know that. \u2019Course I do. It ain\u2019t Charlie I\u2019m worried about. It\u2019s Little Joe. Whatever Charlie does, Little Joe wants to do the same. And if you\u2019d\u2019a\u2019 heard what they was talking about, Adam\u2026.\u201d A faint flush rose in his face and he left the sentence hanging.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019d better tell me,\u201d I said, more intrigued than alarmed at that stage. Hoss had always been surprisingly na\u00efve when it came to women, chivalrous to a fault. It didn\u2019t take much to shock his gentle nature.<\/p>\n Hesitantly and not without some embarrassment, he told me what he\u2019d overheard Charlie relating to Joe.\u00a0\u00a0 I raised my eyebrows. Finally I understood his alarm.<\/p>\n \u201cAin\u2019t no way to treat a lady,\u201d said Hoss, when he\u2019d finished, \u201ceven a painted one.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDoes Joe know you heard?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss looked faintly indignant. \u201cYeah, of course. I wa\u2019n\u2019t gonna let that kind of talk carry on. I sent Charlie on his way, an\u2019 I told Joe I didn\u2019 wanna hear him, nor no one else, talkin\u2019 like that about a woman\u2014any woman\u2014again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did he say?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe tol\u2019 me I was fussin\u2019. Said it was jus\u2019 talk. I told him he was lucky it was me heard \u2019em. If it\u2019d been Pa, he\u2019d\u2019a tanned his hide.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe that\u2019s what he needs.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss\u2019s face crinkled at that. \u201cI was hoping you\u2019d have a word with him, Adam. He listens to you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe used to,\u201d I said. \u201cNot so sure he takes a lot of notice these days.\u201d I saw the pleading in Hoss\u2019s eyes, and sighed. I was tired. I\u2019d been looking forward to going to bed with nothing more on my mind than my trip to Placerville. Trust Joe to spoil it!<\/p>\n \u201cAll right,\u201d I agreed. \u201cI think you\u2019re worrying over nothing, but I\u2019ll talk to him if you think it will help.\u201d<\/p>\n I\u2019d meant it when I said it, but, somehow, the opportunity to talk to Joe didn\u2019t present itself. Maybe I didn\u2019t try hard enough to make it happen. To be honest, the prospect of an interview with my fifteen-year-old brother on the subject of morbid sexual appetites made my heart sink. The morning after our conversation, I had an appointment at the bank, and a wire to send to Daniel, and Joe headed out with Charlie and a couple of the other men to round up strays. The day after that, I went with Pa to Carson City to finalize a lumber contract. Saturday morning, when Hoss asked me if I\u2019d managed to have that word with Joe, I had to admit I hadn\u2019t.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll try and catch him today,\u201d I promised.<\/p>\n But, after breakfast, Clem Foster called by the ranch, to introduce his niece, Susannah McKenna, who\u2019d arrived in town only the day before. Miss McKenna was dark-haired and very pretty. My heart picked up an extra beat or two when she held out her hand in greeting and our eyes met. All thoughts of Little Joe went straight to the back of my mind. He and Hoss were branding, over in the corral, so the enviable task of entertaining Clem and the lovely Miss McKenna fell to me and Pa, and Miss McKenna\u2019s eyes definitely weren\u2019t on Pa.<\/p>\n \u201cSuch beautiful countryside,\u201d said Miss McKenna, smiling at me. \u201cUncle Clem was telling me how wonderful the lake is.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou should take the buggy out there,\u201d said Pa. \u201cIt\u2019s well worth a visit.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnother time,\u201d said Clem. \u201cI have to be back in town by one o\u2019clock.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI could take Miss McKenna out there,\u201d I suggested, magnanimously.<\/p>\n Miss McKenna looked to her uncle for approval.\u00a0\u00a0 Clem hesitated. I knew he wasn\u2019t doubting my honor, just considering practicalities.<\/p>\n \u201cI can take her back to town afterwards,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n That appeared to satisfy him, and Miss McKenna and I spent a very pleasant couple of hours driving around the lake. And while she admired the scenery, I admired the way her hair fell in thick dark waves over her shoulders, and the fullness of her supple mouth, and the smooth curve of her slender waist and all her adjoining anatomy. I told her about my plans in Placerville. She was genuinely interested, asking about the houses I\u2019d designed and how the deal would work. I like a woman with some sound sense in her head. It seemed to me Miss McKenna and I could get along very well together.<\/p>\n When I dropped her back at her uncle\u2019s house, I asked her if she might like to see me again, and she said she would like that very much. I drove home to the Ponderosa in a small bubble of euphoria, more than content with my day. I had barely spared a thought for Hoss or Little Joe, but when I reached home, shortly before dinner, Hoss came out to help me unhitch the carriage, and I could tell straight away that he was fidgety about something.<\/p>\n \u201cYou see Little Joe in town?\u201d he asked, standing close to me, as if afraid someone might hear him.<\/p>\n \u201cIn town?\u201d I said. \u201cI thought he was here, branding with you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe finished that,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cNow he\u2019s upped and vanished. Jed reckons he saw him head out with a group of other fellers, into town.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019ll be back for dinner,\u201d I said, refusing to let Hoss\u2019s fussing spoil the memories of a good day.<\/p>\n Hoss turned his head in the direction of the road, as if my assurances would bring Joe cantering around the corner of the barn. I could tell he didn\u2019t share my confidence.<\/p>\n \u201cPa\u2019ll have something to say, if he ain\u2019t,\u201d he said, a glum expression on his face. \u201cIt\u2019s pay night. If Pa knows Little Joe\u2019s in Virginia City, on his own, on pay night\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf he\u2019s done something as stupid as that, he\u2019ll deserve it,\u201d I said. \u201cHe knows the rules. Stop worrying about him, Hoss. Did you hear who I got to entertain today?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss gave me an envious look. \u201cYeah, Pa said. Clem Foster\u2019s niece. How come you get all the luck, Adam? What\u2019s she like?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHer name\u2019s Susannah. She\u2019s as pretty as a peach. I almost wish I wasn\u2019t leaving for Placerville next Friday, or I\u2019d invite her to the dance.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI<\/em> could ask her.\u201d<\/p>\n He slapped my shoulder, enjoying his little joke, but I saw him cast another anxious glance towards the road. I might have sounded confident about Little Joe making it back in time, but Hoss wasn\u2019t convinced.<\/p>\n Dinner time arrived, still with no sign of our errant brother, and Hoss was forced to divulge his suspicions to Pa. Hop Sing threw up his hands in disgust. Pa\u2019s brow lowered ominously.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s the matter with that boy? What in heaven\u2019s name is he thinking? He\u2019s too young to be carousing in town on his own, on a Saturday night.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss forced himself to look optimistic. \u201cHe ain\u2019t on his own, Pa. He\u2019s with Charlie Deverell.\u201d<\/p>\n That reassurance did nothing to lighten the frown on Pa\u2019s face.<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe Jack Deverell doesn\u2019t care what his son gets up to, but I do! There\u2019s all kinds of trouble waiting to happen in that town on a Saturday night, and your brother has a knack for attracting it. Who said he could go anyway? I\u2019m his father, not Jack Deverell.\u201d Pa\u2019s frown darkened to a scowl. \u201cAlthough you\u2019d be forgiven for thinking otherwise, lately.\u201d<\/p>\n The resentfulness of his tone brought my head up. \u201cWhat do you mean by that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI mean, all I hear lately is \u2018Jack this\u2019 and \u2018Charlie that\u2019. I thought he\u2019d get over it, but Charlie Deverell and his father can\u2019t put a foot wrong, as far as Joseph\u2019s concerned.\u201d Pa\u2019s eyes flashed dangerously. \u201cBut this is one step too far. I won\u2019t tolerate blatant disobedience.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss looked at me and back at Pa, and I could almost hear his brain whirring in an effort to come up with a plan that would save Little Joe from Pa\u2019s wrath. \u201cListen, Pa, how \u2019bout me an\u2019 Adam ride into town after dinner, jes\u2019 to make sure he ain\u2019t in any trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n Pa\u2019s eyes fixed on me, then on Hoss, and his brow lifted just a fraction. I couldn\u2019t help thinking that he would never have worried that way over me\u2014or Hoss\u2014when we were Joe\u2019s age. But then, in truth, neither Hoss nor I ever got into the kind of scrapes Joe seemed to attract, as easily as fruit attracts flies. But the kid was growing up. Sooner or later, for better or for worse, Pa was going to have to loosen the reins.<\/p>\n With some amusement, I watched him struggle with himself. Finally, he shook his head. \u201cNo,\u201d he said, and I could sense the huge effort it took to force out that word. \u201cNo need for the two of you to ride all that way into town. You\u2019re right. He\u2019s with the other men.\u201d I could see how hard he was finding it to convince himself as he said it. \u201cI\u2019m sure he\u2019ll be fine.\u201d A flicker of doubt crossed his face. Pa was no fool. He knew well enough what men got up to in town on pay night.<\/p>\n Hoss raised his shoulders and let them drop again, in a fair imitation of a nonchalant shrug. \u201cA\u2019right, Pa. Fine by me.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa shot him a hard look. I kept my face carefully neutral. Pa lifted his fork to his mouth and we finished dinner without another mention of Little Joe, but the conversation was terse and strained, and Little Joe was at the front of all our minds, even if none of us said his name out loud again. Pa would never admit to a soft spot for that kid, and I guess we were all guilty of molly-coddling Joe, not just Pa. Doesn\u2019t matter how old the kid gets, he\u2019ll always be the baby of the family. I figured Hoss, like me, was remembering our conversation three evenings before. Just as well Pa didn\u2019t know about that, I thought, trying to ignore my own disquiet.<\/p>\n Finally, Hoss put down his dessert spoon, leaned back in his chair, and stretched his arms over his head. \u201cWell, older brother, what d\u2019you reckon? Now I\u2019ve put me in mind of a night out\u2026.\u201d He left the sentence hanging and grinned at me instead.<\/p>\n \u201cHmm.\u201d I pretended to give the matter serious consideration. \u201cYou know, you\u2019re right, younger brother. A couple of beers in the Silver Dollar would go down well.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa made a valiant attempt to look as if he didn\u2019t care one way or the other what we did.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be late back,\u201d he said, gruffly, just to keep up appearances<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 3<\/strong><\/p>\n We were a couple of miles short of town when we saw a familiar black and white pony cantering towards us through the dusk. Little Joe saw us at the same time and reined in.<\/p>\n \u201cThe prodigal,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere you been?\u201d asked Hoss, as Joe drew level with us. \u201cYou missed dinner, you little galoot.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s face was wary, his eyes flicking between the two of us as if he were waiting to see who would be the first to admonish him. Small flecks of dried blood clung to his nostrils and upper lip. \u201cYeah. I guess Pa ain\u2019t too pleased with me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI guess he isn\u2019t,\u201d I said. \u201cBut the sooner you get home, the better it\u2019ll be for you.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe puffed his cheeks. \u201cI just lost track of time. It\u2019s no big deal. Where you fellers going?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThought we\u2019d have a couple of beers in the Silver Dollar,\u201d I told him.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019s Charlie?\u201d asked Hoss.<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s eyes flicked back the way he\u2019d come. \u201cStill in town, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n Something in his tone told me all was not well between the two of them. \u201cYou two fallen out?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe didn\u2019t answer. He nudged his horse in the direction of home. Hoss gave me another look and wheeled his around too. I followed suit.<\/p>\n \u201cI thought you were going to town,\u201d said Joe, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.<\/p>\n I could see he didn\u2019t want to tell us what had gone on, but I asked anyway. \u201cWas there trouble in town?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo Charlie\u2019s not in any trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe scowled. \u201cWhy do you keep asking me about Charlie? How do I know what he\u2019s doing? He\u2019s there and I\u2019m here!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo you did<\/em> fall out?\u201d<\/p>\n The scowl on Joe\u2019s face deepened. \u201cSo what if we did? What\u2019s it got to do with you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat happened to your nose?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe put a hand to his face as if wondering how we knew. \u201cAll right, so we fell out. Are you happy, now you know? Why don\u2019t you just go on into town?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cActually, we were only going there to find you,\u201d I admitted. \u201cYou know what Pa\u2019s like.\u201d<\/p>\n The kid looked momentarily grateful for my honesty.<\/p>\n \u201cWe told him you\u2019d be fine without us.\u201d<\/p>\n A flash of guilt flickered across Joe\u2019s face, and even through the dusk I could see how the color in his cheeks deepened. We rode on in silence for a hundred yards, then I said, \u201cSo what was the fight about?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe pulled up short, taking us both by surprise. \u201cLook, fellers, I appreciate your concern, but I\u2019d kinda like to ride on home by myself now, if it\u2019s all the same with you.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss raised his eyebrows. I gave a shrug. \u201cSure. If that\u2019s how you feel.\u201d<\/p>\n When Joe was out of sight, I turned back to Hoss. \u201cWell, we\u2019re almost there now. Might as well have those beers, since we\u2019ve come all this way.\u201d<\/p>\n ******<\/p>\n After a couple of drinks and a round of poker in the Silver Dollar, I\u2019d almost forgotten about Joe\u2019s troubles, until Hoss nudged me and nodded his head at the entrance to the saloon. A raucous group had just pushed through the doors, in high spirits and very much the worse for drink. Jack and Sam Deverell were among them, and so was Charlie.<\/p>\n A moment later, they passed our table. I said, \u201cSeen my little brother anywhere, Charlie?\u201d<\/p>\n He frowned as he peered at me, struggling to focus eyes glazed with beer. Or was it whiskey? Recognizing me, he leaned across to peer into my face and give my shoulder a drunken pat. Yep, it was definitely whiskey. His breath reeked of it.<\/p>\n \u201cLittle Joe?<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie\u2019s brow drew down as he considered the question. \u201cThink he might\u2019ve headed on back to the Ponderosa,\u201d he said, his words slurring.<\/p>\n \u201cYou and Little Joe have a fight?\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie looked taken aback. \u201cWho tol\u2019 you that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid you?\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie pulled a face at me. \u201cWa\u2019n\u2019t exactly a fight. And it wa\u2019n\u2019t with me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho was it with?\u201d<\/p>\n The other men had moved on to the bar. Charlie looked around, then pulled up a chair and sat down heavily. \u201cListen fellers, it was Li\u2019l Joe threw the first punch. He got mad. Jake Weller said something and he jus\u2019 took it the wrong way.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did Jake Weller say?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt was no big deal.\u201d Charlie shrugged. \u201cMe \u2019n\u2019 Joe were finishing our beers and mindin\u2019 our own business, then some of the fellers said we should go on over to Margie\u2019s an\u2019 find ourselves a good time.\u201d He saw the look I gave him then. \u201cWhat? You tellin\u2019 me you fellers never had yourselves a good time with a willin\u2019 woman?\u201d He grinned again. \u201cThere\u2019s some real friendly gals over that place. You want me to introduce you to a couple?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot right now,\u201d I told him. \u201cHow does Jake Weller come into this?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJake Weller was at the bar with some other fellers. He said your pa would have something to say if them gals showed Little Joe any kind of a time, let alone a good one.\u201d He paused, belched, and shrugged again. \u201cLittle Joe flew at Weller, \u2019n\u2019 Weller took him down with one punch. That was all. Then Joe stormed out in a sulk.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd you let him go?\u201d said Hoss.<\/p>\n Charlie gave a lop-sided grin. \u201cThe ladies were expectin\u2019 me. Charlie Deverell ain\u2019t never disappointed a lady.\u201d<\/p>\n A man\u2019s shadow fell across the table. Sam Deverell clapped his meaty hand onto Charlie\u2019s shoulder. \u201cYou ain\u2019t in any trouble, are you, Charlie boy?\u201d<\/p>\n It seemed to me Charlie flinched as his uncle\u2019s hand came down on him. He shook his head. \u201cNo, Uncle Sam. These fellers\u2019re just asking after Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam gestured with his whiskey glass at the saloon door. \u201cThe kid went home in a sulk.\u201d His lip lifted in a sneer. \u201cWay past his bedtime, anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe went home because he\u2019s got some sense in him,\u201d I said. I turned my attention back to Charlie. \u201cIf you\u2019re a friend of Joe\u2019s, why don\u2019t you help him stay out<\/em> of trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCharlie weren\u2019t doing nothin\u2019 wrong.\u201d Sam\u2019s eyes narrowed as they measured me up. \u201cWe were jus\u2019 after a peck of fun. A man\u2019s gotta right to some relaxation.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJoe\u2019s only fifteen,\u201d Hoss reminded him.<\/p>\n \u201cIf he\u2019s old enough to do a man\u2019s job, he deserves a man\u2019s wage, that\u2019s the way I figure it. Work like a man, play like a man. A few drinks ain\u2019t gonna hurt him.\u201d Sam\u2019s eyes narrowed further. \u201cOr maybe you don\u2019t approve of your precious little brother mixing with the low-down common folk, is that it? Maybe our company ain\u2019t considered fine enough for a fancy Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n The man was halfway drunk, I could see that. I wasn\u2019t after a fight but I was beginning to suspect he might be. I shook my head. \u201cThat\u2019s not it at all, Sam. There are rules in our house. Joe has to abide by them, or else he\u2019s in trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s his problem, then. Charlie ain\u2019t done nothin\u2019 wrong. You ever thought he might be doin\u2019 that kid a favor?\u00a0\u00a0 Showin\u2019 him a bit of fun \u2019steada molly-coddlin\u2019 him like a girl. Charlie here is twice the man your precious little runt of a brother will ever be, for all your Cartwright money.\u201d<\/p>\n I put my hand on Hoss\u2019s arm to restrain him. Even through his whiskey-stupor, Charlie was looking uncomfortable. He started to say something, but his uncle silenced him with a push to his shoulder. \u201cYou stay out of this, Charlie boy.\u201d<\/p>\n I could feel the tendons flexing in Hoss\u2019s forearm, but he kept his voice level when he spoke. \u201cListen, Sam, ain\u2019t no one telling you the right way or the wrong way to raise your nephew, but Little Joe\u2019s our brother, an\u2019 he ain\u2019t ready to be drinkin\u2019 and gamblin\u2019 and whorin\u2019. Not yet.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam turned his head and spat at the floor. \u201cThat\u2019s it, ain\u2019t it? Don\u2019t want your little brother tumblin\u2019 the likes of Margie\u2019s gals when he could be pokin\u2019 a thoroughbred, like that fine mare you were paradin\u2019 round the ranch this afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n It was Hoss\u2019s turn to hold me back. I gritted my teeth. \u201cThat\u2019s the deputy sheriff\u2019s niece you\u2019re referring to, so watch what you say.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs that right? Well, deputy sheriff or no deputy sheriff, I sure wouldn\u2019t mind a pretty little filly like that lifting her tail in my direction.\u201d<\/p>\n My fists curled. I was on the verge of rising to hit him when Jack Deverell pushed his way through to the table. He laid a restraining hand on his brother\u2019s arm.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s the drink talking, Adam. He didn\u2019t mean nothing, did you, Sam?\u201d<\/p>\n Sam\u2019s eyes were cold and challenging, his lip still raised in that small sneer. \u201cNo,\u201d he said, tonelessly. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie rose to his feet, with an apologetic half-smile, as if the appearance of his father had magically released him from the conversation.<\/p>\n \u201cYour round,\u201d said Jack to his brother. He gestured at me and Hoss. \u201cAn\u2019 a couple of beers for these fellers too.\u201d<\/p>\n I was still itching to punch Sam after his remarks about Miss McKenna. Fortunately, Hoss had more sense.<\/p>\n \u201cNot for us, Jack. Me an\u2019 Adam are gonna be headin\u2019 on back now.\u201d He flicked me a silent entreaty not to do anything foolish. He was right. Sam was a giant of a man, and Jack had more than enough muscle behind him too. We\u2019d have been lucky to walk away with our bones intact.<\/p>\n \u201cYou should have let me hit him,\u201d I said to Hoss, as he wheeled me out of the saloon.<\/p>\n \u201cThere were three of them,\u201d he reminded me. \u201cBig fellers too. \u2019Sides which, the man was drunk. It ain\u2019t worth it, Adam. We came into town to keep Little Joe outa trouble. Pa ain\u2019t gonna be impressed if the two of us roll in with bruised knuckles and bloody noses.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe was asking for it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI been telling you that the last coupla weeks. That Sam Deverell is trouble. An\u2019 the other two ain\u2019t no different.\u201d<\/p>\n As we climbed on our horses and turned their noses towards home, Hoss said, \u201cDang, Adam, Margie\u2019s? Pa\u2019ll lace Little Joe if he finds out he was even thinkin\u2019<\/em> of goin\u2019 to a place like that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThankfully, he doesn\u2019t need to find out,\u201d I said. \u201cI won\u2019t say anything if you don\u2019t. Joe\u2019s safely back home by now and there\u2019s no harm done, this time. I\u2019ll talk to Joe. Make sure he knows the dangers of a place like Margie\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure he knows,\u201d said Hoss. \u201cBut knowin\u2019 wouldn\u2019 stop him if all the other fellers was doin\u2019 it. \u2019Specially Charlie. Face it, Adam, Joe thinks the sun shines out of Charlie\u2019s butt.\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n 4<\/strong><\/p>\n Talking to Joe wasn\u2019t easy. When I brought up the subject of Margie\u2019s, his face fired and his eyes flashed with hot defiance.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s none of your business,\u201d he snapped.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re my brother. Of course it\u2019s my business. You can pick up a whole lot more than a girl in a place like that, Joe. That\u2019s all I\u2019m saying.\u201d<\/p>\n He stuck out his chin. \u201cI\u2019m not a kid any more, Adam. All the other fellers do it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd they\u2019re all a lot older than you are, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCharlie isn\u2019t. His pa don\u2019t stop him doin\u2019 what the other men do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCharlie\u2019s still older than you. And just because his pa doesn\u2019t seem to be concerned what he does, doesn\u2019t mean we\u2019re going to stop trying to take care of you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I didn\u2019t go, did I? So quit lecturing me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not a lecture; it\u2019s just\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt sure sounds like one. You an\u2019 Pa, you\u2019re always telling me what I can and can\u2019t do. You never let me decide for myself. I\u2019m not a kid any more. I can look after myself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo, you told Pa then, did you? About what happened with Jake Weller?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe hesitated then and some of his belligerence evaporated. \u201cNot exactly.\u201d A sudden doubt struck him. \u201cYou didn\u2019t, did you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. Of course not. I\u2019m not trying to get you into trouble; I\u2019m trying to keep you out of it.\u201d<\/p>\n He looked at me as if he was trying to decide whether or not I was telling the truth. He lifted one shoulder in a grudging shrug. \u201cThanks. For not saying anything.\u201d<\/p>\n I should have left it there. Instead, I said, \u201cJust because Charlie does something, doesn\u2019t mean you have to do it too.\u201d<\/p>\n His face darkened ominously.<\/p>\n \u201cI wasn\u2019t doing it because of Charlie. You just don\u2019t get it, do you? I don\u2019t need you interfering in my life the whole time.\u201d<\/p>\n I conceded defeat with a sigh. Maybe what I\u2019d said would sink in later, when he wasn\u2019t so heated. \u201cAll right,\u201d I said, turning to leave. \u201cJust stay out of trouble, that\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n *******<\/p>\n \u00a0Talking to Joe was like spitting into the wind. After his unauthorized Saturday night absence, Pa ruled that he would only be allowed into town if he was accompanied by me, Hoss, or Pa himself. Joe kicked up a fuss, but Pa was unmovable. He got extra chores too, so he didn\u2019t have much time for getting into more trouble. I was as absorbed as ever, finishing my plans, and I was also keen to call on Miss McKenna, one more time, before setting out for Placerville. I took the opportunity of an appointment at the bank to visit her at Clem\u2019s house.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m leaving for Placerville, Friday,\u201d I told her. \u201cI didn\u2019t want to go without calling on you to say how much I enjoyed our little sortie the other day.\u201d<\/p>\n I was gratified to see she looked sincerely disappointed that I was leaving. \u201cYou won\u2019t be here for the dance on Saturday night then? I gather it\u2019s very popular.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m afraid I\u2019m going to miss it, and the chance to ask you to dance. For that, I\u2019m truly sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n She smiled, dimpling her right cheek at me. \u201cThere will be other opportunities, Mr. Cartwright. My aunt and uncle have invited me to stay on for a while longer, so I shall look forward to making more of your acquaintance when you return.\u201d<\/p>\n At her invitation, I stayed to dinner, spending a blissful couple of hours in pleasant conversation, while feasting my eyes and my imagination on the gorgeous Miss McKenna, and it was half past nine by the time I got back to the Ponderosa. I expected to find the house quiet; Pa in his favorite chair by the fire; Hoss and Joe playing checkers. Instead, the ruckus reached me even before I rode into the yard: Pa\u2019s deep boom of anger, and Little Joe\u2019s shriller protests. Darn! What had the little galoot been up to this time? After my pleasant evening at the Fosters\u2019, my heart plummeted. I even considered riding out again and returning half an hour or so later, by which time the storm would hopefully have subsided, but a tiresome sense of duty drew me towards the door. Maybe\u2014just maybe\u2014there was something I could do or say that would help calm the tempest.<\/p>\n I opened the door in time to witness my fuming father manhandling a mutinous Little Joe up the stairs, by his collar, Joe resisting every inch of the way, and protesting loudly. Hoss hunched by the fireplace, head down, hands hanging between his knees, a picture of abject misery.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s he done now?\u201d I asked, as I hung my hat on the hook. Joe\u2019s angry shouts, and Pa\u2019s bellows, receded along the upper hallway.<\/p>\n \u201cDagnabbit, Adam, he\u2019s in big trouble this time.\u201d Hoss lifted his head, his face contorted with anguish. He gestured at the table and I saw a whiskey bottle, three quarters empty.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere did that come from?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOuta Little Joe\u2019s pocket. Could smell it on him the instant he came through the door. Started arguing with Pa, threw in a few cuss words\u2026well, you can imagine the rest.\u201d Hoss lifted his eyes to the stairs and grimaced.<\/p>\n I picked up the bottle. \u201cYou\u2019re serious? He drank all this? I\u2019m surprised he\u2019s still standing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t know that he drank it all. He was out with Charlie.\u201d Hoss\u2019s lips tightened. \u201cDang fool kid!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSwearing at Pa wasn\u2019t wise.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss grimaced. \u201cIt was the whiskey talking, Adam. Not Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n Both of us raised our eyes as a thud and a crash from upstairs made the china rattle on the dresser.<\/p>\n \u201cDang! He\u2019s kicking up a fight. He\u2019s jus\u2019 gonna make it worse.\u201d Hoss looked at me with a pained expression, but there was nothing I could do. Little Joe had brought this one down on his own head, and Pa would not spare the leather. Not this time. Joe was going to be lucky if he could sit down for a week.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 5<\/strong><\/p>\n I went out to bed down my horse and when I got back to the house, Pa was in his chair, a large brandy in his hand. Upstairs was silence. Pa\u2019s face was grim, his mouth drawn tight. Hoss had a cloth in his hand and was making an unconvincing show of cleaning his pistol. I knew he was itching to go upstairs and comfort Little Joe. That was the way with the two of them. But Hoss knew as well as I did that Pa wouldn\u2019t allow that. Not yet. Not until Joe had had time alone to consider his behavior.<\/p>\n Pa raised his eyes and acknowledged me with a grunt of my name. I sat down in the chair and there was a long, strained silence. Finally, Pa said, \u201cDid you get everything done in town?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes. I was invited to dinner at the Fosters.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMmm,\u201d said Pa. \u201cWe wondered.\u201d<\/p>\n We fell quiet again. Pa put down his brandy glass on the table and rose to prod the fire.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHoss told you what happened here, then?\u201d<\/p>\n I nodded. Hoss stopped rubbing at the same small section of metal, and raised doleful eyes to my face.<\/p>\n For a moment, Pa said nothing else. He stood with his back to us, poking at the logs, and sending showers of sparks up the chimney. Finally, he set down the poker and turned back to face us. \u201cI worry about that boy. \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not that bad,\u201d I told him.<\/p>\n He shot me a hard look.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t mean his behavior tonight wasn\u2019t foolish,\u201d I put in swiftly. \u201cIt was. But he\u2019s just trying to be like Charlie Deverell. It\u2019ll pass.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s all it is, Pa,\u201d Hoss agreed, nodding his head earnestly, eager to come to Joe\u2019s defense. \u201cSee, Charlie\u2019s that much bigger\u2019n Little Joe, for all they\u2019re a\u2019most the same age, and \u2019cause of that, the men treat him different. All Joe\u2019s tryin\u2019 to do is prove he\u2019s as good as Charlie.\u201d His face creased into a troubled frown. \u201cTrouble is, I reckon Charlie Deverell knows what he\u2019s doin\u2019. Seems to me like he kinda enjoys seein\u2019 Little Joe finish up in trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa looked as surprised as I felt when Hoss said that. \u201cYou mean the boy\u2019s deliberately<\/em> being a troublemaker?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know about deliberate<\/em>.\u201d Hoss wrinkled his nose. \u201cI figure it\u2019s jus\u2019 Little Joe\u2019s so keen to impress him, an\u2019 Charlie knows that. Charlie ain\u2019t a bad kid, but there\u2019s a mean streak runnin\u2019 through him, jus\u2019 like there is through that uncle of his. So when Joe shows willin\u2019, Charlie\u2019s goes jus\u2019 that little bit too far.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf we weren\u2019t so short-handed, I\u2019d pay them off,\u201d said Pa. \u201cAll three of them. For Joe\u2019s sake, if nothing else. We don\u2019t need that kind of trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe we could jus\u2019 try keepin\u2019 \u2019em apart,\u201d suggested Hoss.<\/p>\n I chewed my lip, telling myself that I wasn\u2019t responsible for Joe\u2019s situation. Sure, I\u2019d been the one who\u2019d taken on the Deverell men, but there was no way I could have foreseen this kind of trouble for Joe. On the other hand, I hadn\u2019t done much to help resolve the issue either. A thought occurred to me and I pushed it away. I\u2019d been looking forward to my trip to Placerville for a long time, maybe with Hoss for company. I had plans, dammit. And they didn\u2019t include Joe. I pressed my fingers together between my knees and tried to ignore my niggling conscience, but in the end, duty won. I heard myself say, \u201cWhat about if I take Joe with me to Placerville?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss looked relieved, Pa surprised. \u201cYou\u2019d be happy to take him along? I thought you had too much business to deal with.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do,\u201d I said. \u201cI do, but he could still come with me. From recollection, Daniel has two or three children.\u201d I frowned, trying to recall details of Daniel\u2019s family life that had never really interested me, and found I was cloudy on the finer points. \u201cThe oldest one can\u2019t be far off Joe\u2019s age,\u201d I said vaguely. \u201cThe main point would be that it would put some distance between him and Charlie, for a couple of weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa thought about that for a moment, his brow drawn down in a troubled frown. \u201cHe thinks a lot of you, Adam. Might do him good to get away from here for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think you may be overestimating my influence,\u201d I said, already wondering if I\u2019d made a big mistake. Why hadn\u2019t I just kept my big mouth shut? Instead of two weeks of not having to worry about ranch business, payrolls, rustlers, stray animals\u2014or younger brothers\u2014I was now going to have Joe to look out for. Hoss at fifteen, I wouldn\u2019t have thought twice about. Hoss had always been placid and level-headed and easygoing, but Joe\u2026.<\/p>\n Pa picked up the incriminating whiskey bottle from the table and held it in his hand as if he were weighing it.<\/p>\n \u201cI think it\u2019s time I had a word with Charlie Deverell,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd his father.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 6<\/strong><\/p>\n Little Joe was less than enthusiastic when I first put the suggestion to him about coming with me. I figured he was still suffering the aftermath of his hangover, not to mention the hiding Pa had given him, making the idea of a few long days in the saddle a less than attractive proposition. I wondered if he and Charlie had made other plans that appealed to him more, but my suggestion that time away from Pa might benefit both of them after their recent fallings out finally seemed to make sense to him. By the time we set off from the Ponderosa, the following Friday morning, he\u2019d recovered his spirits, even humming to himself as he saddled his horse and loaded his gear.<\/p>\n I\u2019d been looking forward to the ride to Placerville with Hoss as my traveling companion. Hoss is easy company, plus he\u2019s pretty good at cooking up some tasty trail food. Little Joe had always been willful and hot-headed, and now, in the difficult transition stage between boyhood and manhood, there was an extra level of stubborn resentment and unpredictability to deal with. But strangely enough, once we were underway, with home behind us and the sun on our backs, my younger brother\u2019s mood lightened visibly. Relaxed in the saddle, there was a look of contentment on his face I hadn\u2019t seen in months, as if he\u2019d left all his troubles behind him at the Ponderosa. I hoped it was true and that Hoss and I had been right in thinking this time away from Charlie Deverell would do him a world of good. It certainly seemed that way that first day.<\/p>\n We didn\u2019t rush. I\u2019d allowed plenty of time for the trip. My plan was to arrive Sunday evening and take a room at the hotel, ready to get down to business first thing on Monday. The weather was warm. Camping out that first night was going to be no hardship. In fact, we were both looking forward to a night under the stars.<\/p>\n We stopped for the day in a sheltered spot close to a creek. We had a rabbit we\u2019d shot earlier that afternoon, so while I collected wood for a fire, Joe took care of the horses.<\/p>\n I sent him down to the creek to fill the canteens while I set light to my carefully prepared kindling. It occurred to me that it was handy, having a younger brother to do the running around. I decided I\u2019d get Joe to skin and gut the rabbit when he got back from the creek.\u00a0\u00a0 I didn\u2019t think he\u2019d protest anyway, seeing as how he was in such an unexpectedly agreeable mood. While I rummaged in my bags for coffee, I was whistling a tune to myself, satisfied that I\u2019d made the right decision, bringing Joe along. He was a different kid away from Charlie, back to his old self now he had nothing to prove.<\/p>\n I heard him coming back from the creek. He\u2019d been mighty quick filling those canteens. I raised my head to say as much, and froze.<\/p>\n Joe was there all right. And right behind him, a revolver pointed at the back of Joe\u2019s head, was Jack Deverell. At his shoulders were Sam and Charlie, and their guns were pointing at me. Jack tightened his hold on Joe and nodded at my middle.<\/p>\n \u201cDrop your gun. Nice and easy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you doing, Deverell? Don\u2019t be a fool. Let him go.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe grimaced as Jack seized his wrist and yanked his arm backwards, still with the gun to his head. \u201cDrop your gun or I\u2019ll break your brother\u2019s arm.\u201d He twisted Joe\u2019s arm tighter and the boy gasped in pain. \u201cI might just do that anyway. We don\u2019t owe this kid no favors!\u201d He leaned his face close to Joe\u2019s ear. \u201cThanks to you, boy, we lost our jobs.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you talking about? Joe\u2019s done nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo? Not according to your father. He says Charlie here is a bad influence on your precious, snot-nosed brother. Sent us packing because he figured Charlie was leading this sniveling runt astray.\u201d Jack gave Joe\u2019s arm another jerk. \u201cCharlie\u2019s worth ten of you, you girl!\u201d<\/p>\n I looked at Joe, who was biting his lip in an effort not to cry out. I reached for my gun and tossed it on the ground. Charlie sprang forward and snatched up my revolver and rifle.<\/p>\n \u201cSit down on the ground and keep your hands in the air.\u201d<\/p>\n I sank to the ground. There was no point in resisting, not while Jack had hold of Joe. \u201cIf this is about Joe and Charlie,\u201d I said to Jack, \u201cI\u2019ll talk to my father. I\u2019m sure we can work things out.\u201d<\/p>\n Jack snorted. \u201cOh, we can work it out all right. We\u2019ll just take the money you\u2019re carrying, Cartwright, and then we\u2019ll call it quits. Think of it as severance pay.\u201d<\/p>\n I frowned in puzzlement. \u201cI\u2019ve got about fifty dollars.\u201d I reached slowly towards my jacket pocket. \u201cYou\u2019re welcome to it, if you let Joe go. Here. Take it and get on your way.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam Deverell gave a sneer. \u201cGood one! Except your big-mouthed baby brother here already did the blabbing to Charlie, didn\u2019t you, kid? We know you\u2019re carrying eight thousand dollars for the big deal you got organized in Placerville.\u201d<\/p>\n My heart plummeted into my stomach. I stared at Joe in dismay. What blood was left in his face drained away. He dropped his eyes, looking sick.<\/p>\n I dragged my gaze back to Jack\u2019s face. \u201cWe don\u2019t have that money on us. Not in cash. I came to an arrangement with the bank.\u201d<\/p>\n Jack\u2019s eyes narrowed suspiciously.<\/p>\n \u201cThey have a branch in Sacramento. I\u2019ve arranged to pick up the cash there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re lying.\u201d<\/p>\n I shook my head. \u201cIt made more sense. The assistant manager in the Sacramento branch used to work in Virginia City. He knows me. Saved us carrying all that cash. I have a letter, here in my coat, from the manager of the Virginia City branch, if you don\u2019t believe me.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s back arched as Jack yanked his arm again. I spoke swiftly. \u201cJoe didn\u2019t know that until today, when we were packing.\u201d<\/p>\n The three men looked at each other. Jack jerked his head at the bags stacked on the ground. \u201cCharlie, search their stuff. If the money\u2019s there, we\u2019ll find it.\u201d He looked back at me. \u201cGet that letter out of your pocket, nice and slow, and toss it here. I want to see it.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam, keeping his pistol trained on me, picked up the letter, and ran his eyes over it while Charlie emptied bags into the dirt and rummaged through the contents.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s telling the truth,\u201d Sam growled. \u201cThat\u2019s what it says in this letter.\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie scattered my spare shirts and other belongings with his foot. \u201cNothing here, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam flicked a glance at his brother. \u201cWhat do we do now?\u201d<\/p>\n Jack Deverell hesitated for the briefest of moments. \u201cCheck there\u2019s no money on these two, then tie them up, good and tight. We\u2019ll still get that cash; just have to wait a couple of days till we can ride into Sacramento together and let Adam here withdraw it for us from the bank.\u201d<\/p>\n I gave my head a slow shake. \u201cYou think I\u2019m going to do that?\u201d<\/p>\n Jack tightened his grip so hard on Joe\u2019s arm that the boy was forced to his knees with a sharp cry of pain. \u201cYeah, I think you are because, for some reason, you have a soft spot for this sniveling brother of yours, and you\u2019d hate to see him suffer, wouldn\u2019t you? Tie him up, Sam.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam hauled my arms behind me and wrapped a cord around my wrists, drawing it tight enough to make me flinch. I forced my voice to stay smooth.<\/p>\n \u201cListen, you\u2019re upset. I understand that. Why don\u2019t you just let us go and ride on out of here and we\u2019ll say no more about it? You don\u2019t want trouble with the law.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere won\u2019t be any trouble if you do just like I tell you.\u201d Jack let go of Joe and shoved him, sprawling, into the dirt. \u201cTie him up too, Sam. And Charlie, put some beans in the pot, and make some coffee. Then skin that rabbit these boys done caught for us.\u201d<\/p>\n *******<\/p>\n \u201cEat!\u201d said Sam, nodding at the plate of meat and beans he\u2019d set beside me. I\u2019d watched the three of them eat their meal, talking in low voices around the fire. Now, Jack and Charlie were drinking coffee.<\/p>\n He\u2019d untied my wrists. I rubbed the skin where the rope had chafed me. \u201cWhat about Joe? You going to untie him too?\u201d<\/p>\n Sam gave a short, harsh laugh. \u201cYou still worried about that brat, even after all the trouble he\u2019s landed you in?\u201d He shook his head and spat at the ground. \u201cNo. He gets to eat only after we\u2019ve got our money. Until then, he goes hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n I looked across at Joe, huddled against a rock on the other side of the fire, silent and miserable. He hadn\u2019t met my eye once, all evening.<\/p>\n \u201cThen I don\u2019t eat either,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ll do as you\u2019re told, Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam and Jack exchanged a look. Jack put down his coffee cup and rose from the ground, brushing off the seat of his pants.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, boy,\u201d he said to Joe, \u201cyou hungry?\u201d Joe lifted his head. Jack took a step closer and struck the side of Joe\u2019s face with enough force to knock his head into the rock behind him. Joe shook his head, dazed, and spat blood into the dirt.<\/p>\n Jack resumed his seat and picked up his coffee cup again. \u201cLet\u2019s get one thing clear, Cartwright. You\u2019ll do exactly what you\u2019re told, when you\u2019re told. We need you, but we don\u2019t need him.\u201d He jerked his head at Joe. \u201cExcept as your whipping boy. Understand?\u201d<\/p>\n I finally caught Joe\u2019s gaze. The side of his face was mottled and red, but his eyes blazed defiance. I hoped he\u2019d understood what I\u2019d tried to say to him, without words, in that brief moment before he dropped his gaze again.<\/p>\n It was a long night. I dozed only fitfully, unable to find a comfortable position with just uneven rock behind me. I was cold too. I wondered if Joe had slept. My brother\u2019s body was slumped, but I couldn\u2019t tell if his eyes were open or closed. The Deverells kept two-hour watches all through the night. It seemed they weren\u2019t taking any chances where their eight thousand dollars were concerned. Charlie took the last watch, in the small hours. I roused, for the umpteenth time, from a troubled doze, with my shoulders cramping and my backside numb, and he was perched against a rock, whittling a stick with a knife, and muttering something in Joe\u2019s direction.<\/p>\n I heard my brother\u2019s voice say, \u201cThen let us go.\u201d It seemed I\u2019d woken mid-conversation.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d said Charlie. \u201cAnd don\u2019t ask me again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy\u2019d\u2019you do it? Why\u2019d\u2019you tell \u2019em? You said you could keep a secret.\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie dug the knife deep into the stick. \u201cYeah, well, I changed my mind. Your pa didn\u2019t have no right to say the things he said. I didn\u2019t make you do nothin\u2019<\/em>, Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI never said you did.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, well, your pa said I did! Tol\u2019 my pa I was a bad influence. That weren\u2019t fair, Joe. Made my pa real mad.\u201d Charlie tossed the stick at the fire and pocketed his whittling knife. \u201cWhat\u2019s done\u2019s done. Ain\u2019t no use you tryin\u2019 to make me change my mind neither. You know what they\u2019d do to me if I let you go?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou know what the law\u2019ll do to you if you don\u2019t?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n Charlie\u2019s head spun around to look at me. \u201cIt\u2019s jus\u2019 money. You got plenty of that. You ain\u2019t gonna go short of nothin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cKidnapping and robbery,\u201d I told him. \u201cYou\u2019ll go to prison for that.\u201d<\/p>\n He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stuck out his jaw and drew down his brows in a dark scowl. \u201cOnly if we get caught. And we ain\u2019t gonna get caught.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam, rolled in a blanket next to the fire, stirred and grunted. \u201cQuit the jawin\u2019, will you?\u201d He lifted his head and peered at Charlie. \u201cThey givin\u2019 you trouble, boy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam settled back down again. \u201cThey give you any trouble, you just give that kid a hidin\u2019, you hear?\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie flicked a glance at Joe. \u201cYeah,\u201d he said, \u201cI hear.\u201d<\/p>\n *******<\/p>\n Morning brought some relief, even if it was only that I was untied and escorted at gunpoint to the edge of the camp to do what was necessary there, before I was given coffee and my hands bound again, this time in front of me. Then Sam stood over me with a gun while Jack repeated the procedure with a surly, silent Joe. In the light of morning, the left side of Joe\u2019s face looked decidedly lop-sided, his cheek blue and swollen. He didn\u2019t get coffee, only a swig of water from the canteen.<\/p>\n We rode all that day, Joe and I with our wrists strapped to the horns of our saddles, with only short breaks to relieve our cramped and aching muscles. By evening I figured we\u2019d covered a good forty miles. For the most part, we rode in silence. Occasionally, one of the Deverell men\u2014Jack or Sam for the most part\u2014would start a brief conversation with one of the others. Charlie said little, but none of them talked for long. They were tense with each other, and curt with us. They made me ride out in front, with Joe a couple of horses behind. I couldn\u2019t communicate with him, even non-verbally, and I was conscious that either Jack or Sam was always close to him, both of them watching us with careful eyes.<\/p>\n Then came another uncomfortable night, again with little sleep. At least I\u2019d been given something to eat\u2014stale biscuits and a meager portion of beans and bacon\u2014but Joe was still hungry. I\u2019d seen his eyes fixed longingly on the cooking pot as Sam dished up the food. Sam saw too. His lip lifted in a sneer of amusement. Nudging his brother, he nodded in Joe\u2019s direction.<\/p>\n \u201cReminds me of that dog you used to keep.\u201d Picking up one of the plates, he walked towards Joe. \u201cHungry, kid? Yeah, I bet you are.\u201d He waved the food a foot or so from Joe\u2019s face.<\/p>\n Joe glowered and Sam laughed. \u201cDarn, but that bacon sure smells good! Don\u2019t you reckon, boy?\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie shifted uncomfortably. \u201cAw, leave him, Uncle Sam.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam narrowed his eyes at his nephew. \u201cYou getting soft, Charlie? Won\u2019t hurt this spoiled brat to go hungry for a few days. Don\u2019t reckon a Cartwright knows much about goin\u2019 hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n Jack chewed on a forkful of beans. \u201cDon\u2019t reckon you do neither, Sam. Not with that belly o\u2019 yours.\u201d He and Charlie looked at each other and laughed, then he waved his fork in my direction. \u201cAdam, here, jus\u2019 better make sure we get that money real soon, or that sweet-faced kid brother of his ain\u2019t gonna have enough teeth left in his head to manage more\u2019n a bowl of sops, come Tuesday.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe should let him have something,\u201d Charlie said. \u201cDon\u2019t want him dropping off his horse, do we? Let me give him some hard tack, nothing else.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam\u2019s face darkened. \u201cYou questioning my judgment, boy?\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie\u2019s shoulders stiffened. \u201cNo, sir, I ain\u2019t questioning. Just don\u2019t see why we have to starve him, that\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou wanna give him your food?\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie gave a sulky shake of his head.<\/p>\n \u201cHe can have mine,\u201d I said, holding out my own dish.<\/p>\n Sam shook his head at Joe. \u201cYour brother don\u2019t never learn,\u201d he said, setting his plate down on the ground.<\/p>\n Joe was ready that time and ducked away as Sam swung a backhander. The blow, intended for his face, glanced off the side of his head. Sam swore and aimed his boot into Joe\u2019s thigh. Joe yelped. Sam drew his foot back for another kick.<\/p>\n \u201cUncle Sam, don\u2019t!\u201d pleaded Charlie.<\/p>\n Jack, still chewing, said, \u201cSam, Sit down and eat your food. Afore it gets cold.\u201d<\/p>\n I thought for a moment Sam would ignore them, but thankfully, he didn\u2019t. Instead, he jerked his head in Charlie\u2019s direction.<\/p>\n \u201cThat boy\u2019s gone soft,\u201d he said to Jack.<\/p>\n Jack scraped the last of his beans into his mouth. \u201cCharlie\u2019s all right.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam\u2019s eyes fixed on Charlie. \u201cYou heard what ol\u2019 man Cartwright had to say, didn\u2019t you? We ain\u2019t good enough for the Cartwrights, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d Charlie scowled at the fire. \u201cI remember.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAw, let him be, Sam,\u201d said Jack. \u201cHe ain\u2019t your enemy.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam grunted. \u201cYeah, well jus\u2019 make sure he knows that. All the time he acts like that Cartwright kid is his friend, he\u2019s riskin\u2019 trouble for all of us.\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie stuck out his jaw. \u201cHe ain\u2019t<\/em> my friend!\u201d<\/p>\n Sam\u2019s lip lifted in a sneer. \u201cOh yeah? Well, prove it, then.\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie looked to his father for support. Jack put down his empty plate and shrugged as if he didn\u2019t care one way or the other. Sam hauled Joe upright, by the shoulders.<\/p>\n \u201cHere you are, Charlie, he\u2019s all yours. Show him who\u2019s boss.\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie looked again at his father. Jack gave another indifferent shrug. \u201cWe don\u2019t owe them no favors, Charlie.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s tied up an\u2019 you want me to hit him? Don\u2019t seem right.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou wanna kiss him instead?\u201d asked Sam.<\/p>\n Charlie scowled and squared his jaw. He rose from his seat on the ground and crossed to face Joe. Joe\u2019s eyes came up to meet his, and the older boy hesitated. Then he raised his hand and brought his palm down hard across Joe\u2019s right cheek.<\/p>\n Sam rolled his eyes. \u201cNot like a girl. Use your fist, boy. Want me to show you how?\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie\u2019s face darkened. \u201cI can do it.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe flexed as Charlie\u2019s fist flew out. The blow landed dead center of his middle and knocked the breath from his body. It would have doubled him over if Sam hadn\u2019t held him pinned by his shoulders. Sam laughed and let go of the boy. Joe folded.<\/p>\n \u201cThere,\u201d said Sam. \u201cFeel better now?\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie flexed his knuckles, watching Joe squirm. He nodded. \u201cYeah,\u201d he said, raising his face to his uncle. \u201cYeah, I do. You were right. That felt good.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 7 By mid-afternoon the following day, we were no more than a few miles from Placerville. On any other day we could have been at the bank before closing time, collected the money and been gone, but it was Sunday and the bank was shut. The Deverells were forced to wait until the following morning to collect their prize. For me, the delay was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, the imposed wait and the men\u2019s subsequent frustration gave me some satisfaction; on the other, it meant another uncomfortable night for me, and more misery and hunger for Joe. I\u2019d worried about him as we rode. His head drooped, his shoulders sagged, as though the strength had all gone out of him. A few times, I wondered if he\u2019d fallen asleep, and the Deverells apparently thought the same thing. One or the other of them would occasionally bring their horse up close beside him, and kick him in the ankle or prod him with a rifle, and he\u2019d rouse momentarily before slumping back into his own private misery.<\/p>\n Sam Deverell looked back the way we\u2019d come.<\/p>\n \u201cWe passed that ol\u2019 cabin a mile or so back. Why don\u2019t we camp out there until morning?\u00a0\u00a0 There was a well. Reckon there could be a working stove. Might even be a bed.<\/p>\n Charlie looked hopeful at the suggestion of a bed. Jack shrugged. \u201cYeah. Why not? Might as well be comfortable.\u201d<\/p>\n So we retraced our steps to the solitary cabin, built under the shelter of a small cliff. There were no signs of life about the house and the yard, but it looked empty rather than derelict, as though the owners had gone away for a few days rather than abandoned it forever. There were curtains at the window, and a chair on the porch, but there were weeds in the yard, and the house and the barn were silent. It made little difference to me where we spent the night, but I was hopeful there might be supplies in the cabin, and, if there were, that might make the Deverells feel generous enough to allow Joe at least a small portion of something to ease the emptiness in his belly.<\/p>\n Sam Deverell unwound the cord that tied my wrists to my saddle and hauled me down from my horse. Joe was still astride his pony. It was the closest I\u2019d been to him since we\u2019d mounted up that morning, since Sam and Jack were so careful to keep us well apart. Now I scanned my brother\u2019s dusty face. His eyes were sunk in their sockets and his mouth drawn in a hard line, but as our eyes met, I saw the spark of defiance still there, behind the weariness. Joe was hungry and tired, but far from defeated. I flashed him the briefest smile, and he acknowledged it with a small twist of his own lips. Then Jack untied the rope from the pommel and dragged him down, hanging onto him by the collar.<\/p>\n \u201cTake a good look at him, Cartwright. Unless you do exactly as you\u2019re told tomorrow, your brother\u2019s pretty little face ain\u2019t gonna be half as pretty next time you lay eyes on him.\u201d He gave Joe a rough shake as if to make sure his words sank in, and thrust him up the steps to the cabin.<\/p>\n The door was locked, but Sam put his foot to the door and the wood splintered and gave. Inside, the place was sparsely furnished, but tidy. There was a stove, as Sam had predicted\u2014even logs in a basket\u2014a table and chairs, and a bed. There were also a couple of stuffed armchairs, faded and shabby, but they still looked inviting to me after three days in the saddle and two sleepless nights on the hard ground. There were pots and pans too, and a storeroom at the back from which Charlie emerged triumphant, with a couple of cans of peaches and a jar of raisins.<\/p>\n Jack dragged a wooden chair to one side of the cabin and tied me into it, securing my hands behind me. But when Sam made to do the same with Joe, Jack gestured with his head at the other side of the room.<\/p>\n \u201cPut him over there, on the floor.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe made no protest as his hands and feet were tied and he was dumped, unceremoniously, in the far corner of the room. He looked as exhausted as I\u2019d ever seen him, but uncomfortable as he must have been, trussed like that, he sank his face into the hard wooden floor, as if it were a pillow, and closed his eyes in merciful sleep.<\/p>\n Charlie opened the peaches and raisins, the three of them laughing as they helped themselves to the sweet fruit, joking about how they would soon be able to afford to eat in the finest restaurants in Sacramento. Sam produced a bottle of whiskey, and they settled around the table with a pack of cards and a tin of tobacco. Maybe it was the knowledge that they were so close to achieving their goal, but the tension in the dusty air between them felt tighter than ever, intensified by the confines of the cabin walls. Sam and Jack talked about the money and the things they were going to do with it when they finally laid their hands on it. It made me angry to listen to them. They didn\u2019t appear to have any sensible plans, and the thought of my hard-earned savings, and the money loaned to me by the bank, being frittered away on prostitutes and liquor and poker games, made me seethe. Charlie, who hadn\u2019t said much up till that moment, then surprised me by suggesting they should buy themselves somewhere to settle down.<\/p>\n \u201cWe ain\u2019t the settlin\u2019 down type,\u201d said his uncle, with finality.<\/p>\n Charlie looked at his father. \u201cMaybe you and me, Pa\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSam\u2019s right,\u201d Jack told him. \u201cWe ain\u2019t the settlin\u2019 down types.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe ain\u2019t never had the money to buy ourselves some place right for settlin\u2019 down before.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam fixed his nephew with a hard stare. \u201cWhy you so keen to settle down all of a sudden?\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie shrugged. \u201cA feller can get tired of driftin\u2019. What if I wanna find me a girl, have me a family one day?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou got family,\u201d said Sam. \u201cAn\u2019 if it\u2019s a girl you want, we\u2019ll buy you a girl. We\u2019ll buy you one o\u2019 them Injun gals.\u201d He laughed and punched his brother in the shoulder. \u201cHell, I\u2019ll buy three of \u2019em.\u00a0\u00a0 One each. We can take \u2019em with us wherever we go. What d\u2019you reckon, Jack? I hear tell some of them Injun gals are real horny in the sack.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere were them Injun gals in Black Rock,\u201d said Jack. \u201cWorked in pairs, remember.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat weren\u2019t Black Rock; that was over near Auburn.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt was Black Rock,\u201d insisted Jack. \u201cYou think I don\u2019t remember two for one?\u201d<\/p>\n They fell to arguing about where they\u2019d had the Indian girls, while Charlie watched them in silence, his whiskey glass in his hand and his eyes resentful. Bound to the hard wooden chair, I could find no position to relax my aching limbs. I closed my eyes and listened to the ridiculous argument, and tried not to think of the long hours until the bank opened in the morning. I was tired of the Deverells\u2019 shallow lives, tired of feeling stiff and sore, of not being able to sleep, of the cramp in my arms and legs. Tomorrow it would be over, I told myself. One way or the other. Not for the first time, I wondered what would happen once I\u2019d delivered the cash and the Deverells had their prize. Would they really release us? Let us go unharmed? I didn\u2019t have any of the three men down as killers, but then I had never marked them as thieves either, and I\u2019d been wrong there. I\u2019d been wrong about plenty. So self-absorbed I had not questioned anything, until it was too late. I should have listened to Hoss earlier. And to Pa. Should have taken note of their concerns. Sam was a troublemaker. Anyone with half a brain would have seen that. Why hadn\u2019t I seen it? Because I\u2019d been fixed so tight on my own affairs, I hadn\u2019t taken the time to find out, that was why. If the Deverells walked away with my money tomorrow, it was no more than I deserved. But Joe? I thought about my brother and something cold gripped my stomach. If anything happened to Joe, I would never forgive myself.<\/p>\n As the sun went down outside the cabin, Charlie cooked dinner on the stove. I was tired of beans and bacon, but when I saw Joe was awake again, his eyes, dark and hungry, fixed on the stove , I berated myself for that thought. There was no point in arguing. I didn\u2019t want to see my brother hurt anymore, so I ate the food Charlie brought to me, and my arms were secured behind me once more.<\/p>\n Charlie found a can of kerosene in the storeroom and the men lit a lamp and went back to their cards. Jack Deverell topped up his son\u2019s whiskey as often as he filled his own. I had to remind myself that the boy was barely older than my own brother as he knocked back his third refill. He had at least four inches in height on Joe, and his father\u2019s thick neck and shoulders. Three days on the trail had left him with a respectable growth of beard, slightly redder than his sandy hair. Joe, curled on the floor of the cabin, looked like a child in contrast.<\/p>\n I must have dozed, despite my uncomfortable position, because I was jerked awake by a movement beside me. The lamp was still alight on the table. Sam was stretched out on the bed, asleep. Charlie was sprawled in a chair, legs akimbo, head hanging back. Jack\u2019s head was slumped on his arms on the table, and only the hiss of the lamp and the men\u2019s intermittent snores broke the silence.<\/p>\n I glanced down, and Joe was beside me, nudging at my leg. He must have squirmed his way across the floor, and now, still bound at wrists and ankles, he was struggling to his feet, his eyes wide and urgent. I knew what he was telling me. Cautiously, so as to make as little noise as possible, I shuffled my chair away from the wall to allow him to slide in behind me. Within seconds, his fingers were tugging at the knots securing my wrists, but the rope was pulled too tight. He fumbled in vain for almost a minute before I gestured to him with my head that it was no use and, instead, put my fingers to his bindings.<\/p>\n It was a frustrating task, working blind, movement severely restricted by the ropes, but finally a cord came loose and, with a few more tugs, I\u2019d unfastened the knot. Joe\u2019s hands were free. He swiveled. Unhampered, it took him less than thirty seconds to untie my arms. We shared a brief, silent moment of victory before bending to untie our ankles.<\/p>\n Joe shook off his bonds and I was mere seconds from freedom when, with no warning, Jack sprang from his chair with a bellow like a startled bull, and pounced on Joe. I tugged frantically at the ropes around my ankles. If I could just\u2026<\/p>\n Something thudded hard into the side of my head. Men shouted, chairs scraped. A resounding crash vibrated through the boards of the cabin as the table overturned, and two different voices grunted in pain. The room was spinning. Joe\u2019s voice cried out. I tried to rise to my feet, but my ankles were still wrapped in ropes, and I overbalanced, hitting something solid as I fell.<\/p>\n It was all over as quickly as it had started. I was pinned face down, a knee in my back. Blood dripped onto the floor below my head, and blurred the vision in my right eye. My hands were dragged behind me again and the ropes were back at my wrists. Across the room, Sam had hold of Joe. The boy was struggling, yelling abuse at his captor.<\/p>\n \u201cShut your squealing, you loud-mouthed runt!\u201d Sam shook Joe, like a dog with a rat, but my brother, in a fit of blind rage, thrashed harder, spewing forth a volley of oaths and curses that took even me by surprise. Charlie, dabbing at a split lip with his sleeve, righted the table and straightened the chairs. His face was sour, but when his gaze flicked to Joe, still struggling in his uncle\u2019s grip, the apprehension in his eyes made my stomach draw tight.<\/p>\n Jack yanked tight the cord around my wrists, and his weight lifted as his knee left my back. I blinked my eyes to try and clear my vision of blood, as Sam thrust Joe face down across the table, tugging the boy\u2019s jacket down over his arms and throwing it in a heap on the floor. Joe wriggled and fought, but Sam held him as easily as if he\u2019d been a chicken, about to have its neck snapped. \u201cGrab his arms,\u201d he ordered Charlie, unfastening the belt from his waist. \u201cI\u2019ll teach him a lesson he won\u2019t forget.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLeave him,\u201d I pleaded, from my position on the floor. \u201cIt won\u2019t happen again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cToo damned right it won\u2019t,\u201d said Jack, beside me, and I heard the click of his revolver. \u201cNow get up.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe cried out, more in anger than pain, his body bucking in protest as the leather struck his back. I struggled to rise. The belt came down again. Jack\u2019s hand grabbed me beneath the arm and pulled me up. Another loud crack. And another.\u00a0\u00a0 Anger pulsed in my head. I yanked my arm away from Jack\u2019s touch.<\/p>\n \u201cYou want your money tomorrow, you\u2019d better tell him to lay off my brother. Now!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t have tried to be clever.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam\u2019s arm came up again. The belt hit Joe diagonally across his back with a force that made me wince. Joe bit off a strangled cry, and this time, there was no mistaking the pain in his voice. He had ceased to writhe. Spots of blood seeped through the fabric of his shirt. Jack jabbed me in the back with his gun.<\/p>\n \u201cOut the back.\u201d<\/p>\n I stood my ground, in spite of the barrel of the gun prodding my spine. Sam hit Joe again. \u201cNot until he stops beating Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou get into that storeroom and I\u2019ll stop him.\u201d<\/p>\n I caught Charlie\u2019s eye. The boy\u2019s face was white. He looked sick. It struck me he knew Sam a whole lot better than I did, and the fear in his face scared me. Once more, the belt bit hard into Joe\u2019s flesh. I went where Jack prodded.<\/p>\n It was dark in the storeroom. The only light was from the door behind us, and a few strands of sunlight filtering through gaps in the planks. Jack gestured with the revolver. \u201cOn your belly,\u201d he ordered. I lay down reluctantly. From the room beyond, another harsh crack carried clearly through the wooden partition. I twisted my head to look at Jack.<\/p>\n \u201cI meant what I said. Tell him to stop, because if he hurts Joe any more, you can damn well shoot me, and there won\u2019t be any money.\u201d<\/p>\n Something in my tone must have gotten through to him, at last. He measured me up with a calculating gaze, then turned and went out through the door without another word. I heard his voice through the open door.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s enough, Sam.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll decide what\u2019s enough,\u201d his brother growled, his voice ugly.<\/p>\n \u201cI said, that\u2019s enough. You\u2019ve made your point. No need to flay him senseless. Charlie, get him off there and tie him up. He can stay in here. We\u2019ll keep them apart so they can\u2019t try any more tricks.\u201d<\/p>\n He came back into the gloom of the storeroom and crouched to tie my ankles. I heard the table scrape, presumably as Joe was hauled off and deposited where Jack had instructed. Jack went out again, leaving the door ajar, and I levered myself to a sitting position, my back against the wall to the cabin, trying to catch the sounds that would give me a clue as to Joe\u2019s condition. Jack reappeared, a wet cloth folded in his hand and crouched by my side, sponging in a business-like manner at the cut on my forehead. I\u2019d almost forgotten my own injury. I winced at his roughness, and he seized my jaw with his free hand to hold me still. It occurred to me, it wasn\u2019t my welfare he was interested in, he was just concerned my appearance wouldn\u2019t arouse suspicions when we went to the bank the following morning.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 8<\/strong><\/p>\n It was still early when we rode into Placerville. Charlie waited with the horses, on the street, while Jack and I crossed the road to the bank. Of the three Deverells, Sam was the one I\u2019d least have wished to remain behind, alone with Joe, but the decision wasn\u2019t mine to make. Jack had woken me at sun up, from an uncomfortable doze. As I stumbled back into the main room of the cabin, my first thought was for Joe. He lay, curled in the far corner of the room, in his shirt sleeves, trussed hand and foot. His eyes were sunk deep in the hollow circles of their sockets, dark against the ghostly pallor of the rest of his face, but when he saw me, he lifted his head and his mouth curved in a defiant attempt at a smile. Hang on in there, little brother<\/em>, I willed him, silently. This will soon be over. Just hang on in there!<\/em><\/p>\n Inside the bank, things were still quiet, but no one gave us more than a passing glance. They couldn\u2019t have known that the gun at my side was empty, and the man at my other side was ready to kill my brother if I didn\u2019t do precisely as he\u2019d instructed me to do. I asked for Kyle Norland, and we were shown into a comfortable, mahogany-furnished office. Kyle rose from the desk to greet me, hand outstretched and a smile of welcome on his face.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam Cartwight, good to see you again. Take a seat.\u201d He shook my hand and turned to Jack.<\/p>\n \u201cJack Deverell,\u201d I said. \u201cJack works with us on the Ponderosa. We made the trip together.\u201d<\/p>\n Kyle shook Jack\u2019s hand. \u201cSo, how are things on the Ponderosa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGood,\u201d I said briefly, and we all sat down.<\/p>\n Kyle, looking at me and still smiling, said, \u201cYou\u2019ve been in the wars.\u201d<\/p>\n I guess I looked blank because he nodded at the swollen cut on my temple. \u201cYour head?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, that!\u201d I smiled apologetically, and gave him the story Jack had instructed me to give. \u201cFell off my horse yesterday. My own fault. Should have been paying more attention.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s a good doctor here in town if you need that checked out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh no,\u201d I waved a dismissive hand. \u201cThanks for the thought, but it\u2019s not as bad as it looks. I have a hard head.\u201d<\/p>\n He laughed at that and Jack laughed too. I forced a smile. I reached into my pocket and drew out the letter from the Virginia City bank. \u201cI believe you have some money for me.\u201d<\/p>\n Kyle took the letter and skimmed quickly through the contents.<\/p>\n \u201cJust a formality,\u201d he said. \u201cI know you Cartwrights well enough. If you wait here, I\u2019ll bring the cash through. How are your pa and brothers, by the way?\u201d<\/p>\n Jack shifted a fraction in his seat; a silent warning to keep things moving. I thought of Charlie waiting out in the street. Jack\u2019s instructions to his son had been clear. Charlie was to wait twenty minutes, no longer. If we hadn\u2019t reappeared in that time, he was to ride back to the cabin, where Sam held Joe hostage. As I smiled at Kyle, I tried not to think what Sam might do to Joe.<\/p>\n \u201cAll well, thanks. And yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExpecting our first baby in the next few weeks.\u201d Kyle\u2019s face flushed with pride. \u201cTess is fine though. Thriving on it.\u201d<\/p>\n Jack cleared his throat and glanced out the window at the street beyond.<\/p>\n \u201cGive her my best, Kyle. I hope everything goes well.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Adam. I\u2019ll certainly do that.\u201d Kyle flicked a glance at Jack and made for the door. \u201cI won\u2019t keep you long, gentlemen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo delays,\u201d Jack warned me in a low voice when Kyle had left the room. \u201cNot if you want to see your brother alive again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou said to act naturally,\u201d I reminded him. \u201cThat\u2019s all I\u2019m doing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, well don\u2019t push it.\u201d<\/p>\n We sat in strained silence while the clock behind the desk ticked away the precious minutes and the sweat broke out on Jack\u2019s upper lip.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s he doing?\u201d he muttered. \u201cHow long does he need?\u201d<\/p>\n When Kyle finally returned, he said, \u201cSorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen. I had to find the manager before I could open the safe, and he was with a customer. But, here we are.\u201d He laid the cash on the desk in front of him and pushed a receipt in my direction.<\/p>\n \u201cIf you could just sign here,\u201d he said, handing me a pen. I reached to dip the nib in the ink, and my shirt sleeve rode up my arm a fraction, exposing the chafed flesh of my wrists. I sensed Jack stiffen beside me.<\/p>\n \u201cFine clock,\u201d he said swiftly, to Kyle.<\/p>\n Kyle\u2019s eyes followed his to the wall behind the desk, where the large clock ticked soberly. \u201cYes, it is. Walnut casing. My predecessor brought it here all the way from Paris, France.\u201d<\/p>\n Jack nodded, apparently absorbed in admiration. \u201cReally? Well, it\u2019s fine. Very fine.\u201d<\/p>\n I put down the pen and blotted the ink. Kyle counted the money into a brown paper bag and I put that into the empty saddlebag I\u2019d brought with me. Then we rose and Kyle shook our hands once again, and the interview was over. Moments later, we were outside in the street and Jack had taken the saddlebag from me and was slinging it over the back of his own horse, and I wondered if his heart was beating as hard as mine.<\/p>\n *******<\/p>\n I rode back to the cabin with my hands untied, Joe\u2019s welfare the guarantee for my co-operation. Notwithstanding Jack\u2019s assurances, a swell of relief washed through me when I saw my brother, still in one piece. As we came in view of the cabin, Sam was sitting in the chair on the porch, with Joe at his feet. Joe\u2019s ankles were untied, but he couldn\u2019t go anywhere because his hands were fastened in front of him and secured by a second rope to the wooden rail of the porch. Sam had a gun in his lap, pointed loosely in Joe\u2019s direction. He rose to his feet when he saw us.<\/p>\n \u201cAny trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. Smooth as silk.\u201d Jack pulled out his gun and signaled me to get down from my saddle. \u201cLet\u2019s get inside and we can split this money. Be on our way. No point hanging around here.\u201d<\/p>\n Sam gestured at me and Joe. \u201cWant me to deal with them?\u201d<\/p>\n The hairs rose on the back of my neck. I saw Charlie\u2019s head come round. \u201cYou said we were letting them go,\u201d he said to his father.<\/p>\n Jack flicked a warning glance at his brother, then looked at Charlie. \u201cPut \u2019em in the storeroom.\u201d<\/p>\n Charlie hesitated, then turned to unfasten the knot that held Joe\u2019s bound hands to the porch rail. Joe\u2019s face lifted to mine, and I saw that he knew, as well as I did, that these men were planning to kill us.<\/p>\n I looked back at Joe. Although his face was pinched and grey with exhaustion, his eyes were sharp. I flexed my fingers, a tiny movement, but I knew he had seen and understood. The boy kept his gaze on me, waiting for my signal, as Charlie loosed the rope that held him to the rail and he climbed to his feet.<\/p>\n \u201cGet them inside,\u201d said Jack. He jerked his head at me. \u201cAnd tie him up. We\u2019ll deal with them once you\u2019ve taken a look at what\u2019s in this saddlebag, Sam.\u201d He tossed the bag at his brother. \u201cA real sight for sore eyes!\u201d<\/p>\n Sam\u2019s eyes gleamed as he caught the bag. He was grinning as he made his way through the door into the cabin.<\/p>\n Charlie prodded Joe in the back. \u201cGet inside.\u201d<\/p>\n It was our best chance. There were horses, saddled and waiting. Jack had a gun in his hand, but Charlie hadn\u2019t drawn his, and Sam was inside, distracted by the sight of all that money. Jack and Sam Deverell had no intention of leaving us alive, whatever they\u2019d told Charlie. It was now or never.<\/p>\n I spun around and my fist made contact with Jack\u2019s lower jaw, knocking him off his feet. Almost in the same instant, Joe swung his bound arms and caught Charlie a solid swipe to the chin. The blow should have sent the other boy sprawling, but the porch was behind him and the wooden rail saved him. His recovery was too fast for Joe. Charlie\u2019s long arm shot out and seized the smaller boy by the hair.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam, run!\u201d Joe shrieked, as Charlie jerked back his head.<\/p>\n I already had one foot in the stirrup, but when I saw Charlie grab Joe, I dropped it back to the ground.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam, go!\u201d<\/p>\n Jack was scrambling to his feet. Sam reappeared in the doorway and raised his pistol at Joe.\u00a0\u00a0 I don\u2019t even recall launching myself at him, but he went down under my weight, and his wrist was in my grip. I slammed his hand hard into the wood of the porch. His fingers let go of the revolver. Then his face exploded in a thousand shards of light as something solid hit the back of my skull with a thud that dissolved daylight into buzzing blackness.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 9<\/strong><\/p>\n Smoke. I could smell it through the darkness, choking in my throat, clinging to my skin, my hair, all about me. Blood pounded in my head and my vision swam. Somewhere close to my face a brightness flickered, brilliant orange. Wood hissed and cracked.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe?\u201d I called out my brother\u2019s name, but all that emerged was a hoarse whisper. I tried to move, but even though my brain knew what to do, my body refused to respond. Instead, the air filled with locusts, blotting out the flickering brightness, their wing beats roaring louder than an angry river inside my head.<\/p>\n Something tugged at my arm. I opened my eyes again. Had I fallen asleep? A voice close to my ear gasped, \u201cAdam! Adam, get up!\u201d<\/p>\n Joe! I saw him through the gloom and the fog of the smoke, coughing, and tearing with his teeth at the rope around his wrists. I was back in the storeroom, where I\u2019d spent the night. But this time, things were different. This time, the cabin beyond us was burning.<\/p>\n \u201cGet up!\u201d<\/p>\n I made another effort but once again the locusts swarmed in, blotting out Joe\u2019s form.<\/p>\n \u201cCan\u2019t,\u201d I muttered. \u201cYou get out of here, Joe. Go on, get out.\u201d<\/p>\n Did I say the words or did I just think them? The buzzing in my brain was drowning out the roar of the flames around me. Joe was still beside me, still tearing like a dog, at the rope around his wrists.<\/p>\n \u201cCan\u2019t get out,\u201d he told me, his eyes flashing in the strange, flickering darkness. \u201cDoor\u2019s locked.\u201d He gave one final wrench at the rope with his teeth and the knot came loose. He shook it off and grabbed my arm. \u201cI\u2019m not leaving you.\u201d<\/p>\n He went to the door. I watched him tug to no avail, cast round in the gloom for something to use as a lever, but the storeroom yielded nothing. The smoke was growing thicker, curling beneath the door and twisting its way through the cracks in the wood. Joe, coughing, dragged off his shirt and wrapped it around his face. I was coughing too, and the coughing brought the locusts buzzing back to my head. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear thuds, hammering, Joe\u2019s voice shouting\u2026.<\/p>\n *******<\/p>\n I floated in a strange dream where nothing would keep still. People spoke to me, their voices too far away for me to grasp. Flames danced around me, orange and bright; weird shapes twisted and writhed, black against the flickering brilliance, and smoke rose to form a swirling black cloud in a blue sky that revolved above me.<\/p>\n Help!<\/em> said a voice in my dream.<\/p>\n \u201cHelp!\u201d I whispered through a throat so parched, it hurt to speak even that one syllable. \u201cHelp!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s coming round,\u201d said a voice I knew. Something cold touched my lips and trickled with exquisite coolness down my throat.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d said another familiar voice, and a hand touched my forehead. With a gargantuan effort, I forced open my reluctant eyes. The room beyond was dim, but even that feeble amount of light sent shards of pain through my head.<\/p>\n \u201cHelp,\u201d I said again, and frowned. I had no idea where the word had come from.<\/p>\n \u201cRelax, son,\u201d said Pa\u2019s voice. \u201cYou\u2019re going to be fine. You just need to rest.\u201d<\/p>\n I tried to nod, to let him know I\u2019d understood, but my head didn\u2019t work. Then Hoss was leaning over, spooning water into my mouth from a cup. As I drank, reality finally began to settle into place around me and my muddled thoughts assembled themselves into some degree of order.<\/p>\n \u201cMy leg,\u201d I groaned.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a nasty burn,\u201d Pa told me, \u201cand you\u2019ve bruised it. Badly. But it\u2019s not broken. The doctor says it should heal fine if you just rest.\u201d<\/p>\n I let my eyes travel slowly around a dim room I didn\u2019t recognize, frowning as I tried to recollect anything about how I\u2019d arrived here.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2026?\u201d I croaked.<\/p>\n \u201cHotel,\u201d said Hoss, \u201cPlacerville. Remember?\u201d<\/p>\n Placerville? Yes, I remembered Placerville. The bank. I\u2019d had business at the bank. But what were Pa and Hoss doing here?<\/p>\n Pa must have seen the confusion in my eyes. \u201cKyle Norland sent us a telegram. Then the sheriff wired us too. We got here as fast as we could.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa\u2019s eyes were red-rimmed and there was dust in his hair. It made me anxious to see how weary he looked. I knew there was something important I needed to ask, but I couldn\u2019t remember what it was. Even trying<\/em> to remember was exhausting. I let my eyes do what they were longing to do, and closed them. I thought I dozed only for a few moments, but when I opened them again, Pa was gone, and Hoss was seated in a chair beside the bed. The room was still dark, but it wasn\u2019t actually night. The blinds were drawn at the window.<\/p>\n \u201cHow you feelin\u2019 now?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/p>\n There was a dent in his brow. His eyes were swollen and ringed with shadow. I turned my head slowly to the other side, but there was no one else in the room.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019s Pa?\u201d Speaking made my throat and chest burn.<\/p>\n \u201cTalkin\u2019 to the sheriff.\u201d Hoss leaned closer to me. \u201cAdam, do you remember anything about what happened?\u201d<\/p>\n I thought for a few moments, struggling to drag confused images from my battered brain.<\/p>\n \u201cKyle Norland, at the bank, told us you were there last Monday with Jack Deverell,\u201d he prompted me. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n Jack Deverell. Jack, Charlie and Sam, they\u2019d all been there. I remembered Sam coming out of the cabin, pointing a gun at Joe. Joe! <\/em> Memories came flooding back into my head in scrambled pieces.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe,\u201d I said to Hoss. \u201cWhere\u2019s Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n An odd look came over Hoss\u2019s face.\u00a0\u00a0 He stared at me and said nothing. I tried to reach for his arm, but my hand felt too heavy to lift. \u201cWhere is he?\u201d<\/p>\n In the dim light from the shrouded window, Hoss\u2019s eyes looked empty. My chest went tight.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Adam. He didn\u2019t make it.\u201d<\/p>\n It was as if my heart was trying to force its way through my ribcage. I couldn\u2019t breathe. The room spun sideways. I don\u2019t know if I made any kind of sound, but Hoss\u2019s hand was on my chest, as if he could steady my wayward heart that way.<\/p>\n I gulped for breath. The room steadied. Hoss came back into focus. He looked scared.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I whispered. I shook my head even though it hurt. \u201cNo. No.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou have to try and remember,\u201d he said. \u201cHow did the fire start?\u201d<\/p>\n The fire?<\/em> I squeezed my eyes shut. The fire? Yes, I did remember. There had<\/em> been a fire. In the cabin, beyond the storeroom.\u00a0\u00a0 There was smoke. And Joe, shouting, swearing, hammering.<\/p>\n \u201cWe were in the storeroom,\u201d I muttered. \u201cJoe\u2026he couldn\u2019t get the door open.\u201d<\/p>\n I was glad Hoss didn\u2019t throw a heap of questions at me then. He waited patiently while I struggled to sort the memories into some kind of sensible order. I opened my eyes again.<\/p>\n \u201cThe Deverells caught up with us. First night we were away. Tied us up. Gave Joe a hard time. Wouldn\u2019t give him any food. Held him hostage at the cabin so I\u2019d get them the money from the bank. We tried to escape and\u2026someone hit me. They must\u2019ve set fire to the cabin. I don\u2019t remember. Joe was there with me.\u201d I frowned as memory failed me yet again, and heard the tremor in my own voice as I said, \u201cDammit, Hoss, I don\u2019t remember!\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss\u2019s hand squeezed my shoulder. Tears glistened in his eyes and made my chest hurt again. \u201cHe can\u2019t be dead,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n \u201cThere was a body. In the cabin.\u201d<\/p>\n A body? I stared at him in disbelief. A body?<\/em> No. It couldn\u2019t be. It couldn\u2019t be Joe. Joe was fifteen. Full of life. Tough. Funny. He couldn\u2019t possibly be dead.<\/p>\n \u201cHe was a good kid,\u201d Hoss said, in a funny, tight voice. He dropped his face into his hand. Tears welled hot in my own eyes and I had no strength to resist them.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I whispered aloud to the room. \u201cJoe can\u2019t be dead. He was the one still fighting. Should have been\u2026should have been me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWa\u2019n\u2019t your fault,\u201d Hoss told me, his voice fierce. \u201cThem Deverells gotta answer for this.\u201d<\/p>\n I knew he was right, yet a voice in my head kept reminding me that I was the older brother; I should have protected Joe; should have kept him out of trouble. He\u2019d been the one trying to get us out of there. I\u2019d been the useless one, lying on the floor, not able even to get up. How had it happened? How had I ended up back here in Placerville and Joe dead in the cabin? How was I still alive? Why hadn\u2019t I died too, there in the fire?\u00a0\u00a0 How? Why? My brain hurt trying to recall something\u2026anything that would help make sense of it all. The last clear memory I had was of Joe, fighting to open the door. He\u2019d been shouting\u2026hammering\u2026.<\/p>\n Pa\u2019s voice roused me. I opened my eyes, confused. When had Pa reappeared? He was standing by the door. Hoss was with him, and another man, tall, with a stern face. I wasn\u2019t aware I\u2019d made any sound, but I think I must have because they all looked round at me at the same time, and Pa hurried over to my bedside. His face was pinched with tiredness, his dark eyes full of anguish. All in a rush, I remembered about Joe and grief swelled in my chest like sickness.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam,\u201d he said, sitting down beside me and laying a hand on my arm, \u201cthis is Sheriff Hannigan.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa\u2026\u201d I began, my voice croaky and dry with sleep.<\/p>\n \u201cGood to see you\u2019re on the mend,\u201d said the sheriff, nodding in my direction. \u201cWe\u2019re doing everything we can to find the men responsible for this, Mr. Cartwright. We\u2019ll have them under lock and key, soon as you like. Did your pa tell you Kyle Norland marked the bank notes before he gave them to you?\u00a0\u00a0 They spend any of that money and I\u2019ll soon hear about it.\u201d<\/p>\n I frowned at Pa. \u201cKyle?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n Pa nodded. \u201cHe thought something was wrong. Said when he shook your hand, he noticed your wrists were scarred, like you\u2019d been tied up, and you had a cut on your head. He said Deverell seemed jumpy. He was worried, so he sent a wire through to Virginia City. Luckily, Hoss and I were in town, fetching supplies, so we heard about it straight away. We hired some horses and rode over as fast as we could.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d Hoss nodded. \u201cSoon as we heard Deverell\u2019s name, we knew somethin\u2019 was wrong. When we got to Genoa, there was another wire waitin\u2019 for us, sayin\u2019 there\u2019d been a fire an\u2019 they\u2019d found you.\u201d<\/p>\n I looked at the sheriff. \u201cYou found Joe\u2019s body?\u201d<\/p>\n Hannigan gave a curt nod. \u201cThat\u2019s right. I\u2019m sorry about your brother, Mr. Cartwright. Wa\u2019n\u2019t nothing we could do. Cabin was all burned out by then.\u201d<\/p>\n I frowned. \u201cWhere did you find me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOutside. By the well. You were lucky.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAny clues as to how I got there?\u201d<\/p>\n The sheriff looked puzzled. \u201cYou must\u2019ve gotten yourself out of there, didn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n I forced my brain to consider. Something was missing. Something important. Darn it! Why couldn\u2019t I remember?<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know!\u201d Frustrated by my own inability to recall the vital missing pieces, my reply was terser than I\u2019d intended. \u201cWe were locked out back. Trapped. Joe couldn\u2019t get the door open. So\u2026how did I end up outside, yet Joe didn\u2019t make it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe must\u2019ve forced the door open,\u201d said Hoss.<\/p>\n It seemed like the only answer, but yet\u2026it wasn\u2019t right. I was sure of that, but I still didn\u2019t know why. I looked back at the sheriff. \u201cWhere did you find\u2026the body?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIn the cabin,\u201d he told me.<\/p>\n \u201cAt the back? In the storeroom?\u201d<\/p>\n He shook his head. \u201cJust about right in the center, I\u2019d say.\u201d His mouth drew tight, remembering. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Mr. Cartwright, there wasn\u2019t much left. Of the cabin, or of your brother\u2019s body. The chimney must\u2019ve come down on top of him. Don\u2019t reckon he\u2019d\u2019a known much about anything after that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDoesn\u2019t make sense,\u201d I said. \u201cI couldn\u2019t sit up, let alone stand up and walk out of that place. If you found me outside, someone dragged me out. And, if that was Joe, why\u2019d he go back inside? It just doesn\u2019t make sense.\u201d<\/p>\n All three men were staring at me. Hoss\u2019s face screwed into a tight frown. \u201cYou sayin\u2019 it might not\u2019ve been Joe in that cabin?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI saw what was left,\u201d said Pa, sounding sick, \u201cand there wasn\u2019t enough to say who it was. Just some broken and burned bones. Could have been anyone. Who owned that cabin, Sheriff?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFellow called Mason,\u201d said the sheriff. \u201cHis wife died last year, and the ol\u2019 man passed away a month or two back. Neighbour\u2019s been minding the place, checkin\u2019 it over, a coupla times a week. There\u2019s a son somewhere back East. We\u2019re waiting to hear what he wants done with the land.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s not dead,\u201d I said, with rising certainty. \u201cJoe\u2019s not dead! You have to find him. He\u2019s out there somewhere, but he didn\u2019t die in that fire.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa\u2019s eyes clouded. His hand squeezed my arm with a gentle pressure. \u201cThe sheriff\u2019s men have already looked. There\u2019s no sign of Joe. I know you want to believe he\u2019s alive\u2014I do too\u2014but the evidence\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cThe evidence doesn\u2019t make sense.\u201d My head was thumping with the effort of thinking. I closed my eyes against the pain. What was I missing? There was something else. There was something I\u2019d seen or heard. If I could only remember what it was!<\/p>\n Help!<\/em> Smoke, black and evil, coiling upwards against a blue sky. And Joe\u2019s voice. Help!<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cHe spoke to me,\u201d I said, opening my eyes to meet my father\u2019s. \u201cI remember now. He spoke to me. We were outside. I saw the sky, so we must have been outside.\u201d I swiveled my gaze to Hoss. \u201cHe said he was going to get help. He wasn\u2019t in the cabin. He was right there beside me, outside. He went to find help. And something happened to him.\u201d I clutched at Pa\u2019s arm. \u201cYou have to find him, Pa. He\u2019s not dead in the cabin, he\u2019s out there somewhere. You have to find Joe!\u201d<\/p>\n I could see doubt in my father\u2019s face, and the hope he didn\u2019t want to allow himself to feel. He didn\u2019t believe me. He thought I was raving.<\/p>\n \u201cHoss,\u201d I pleaded, desperately, \u201cyou have to find him. He needs help.\u201d<\/p>\n A flicker of pain crossed Hoss\u2019s face.\u00a0\u00a0 I could see what he was thinking. If Joe hadn\u2019t died in that fire\u2014if he\u2019d gone looking for help\u2014then where was he? Why had no one seen him?<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s not dead,\u201d I insisted. \u201cI know he\u2019s not dead. And he can\u2019t have gone far. He was too weak.\u201d<\/p>\n Something in my voice must have penetrated the doubt because Hoss finally nodded. A slow, measured nod. As if he\u2019d weighed up everything I\u2019d just said and seen the sense in it. \u201cYeah,\u201d he said. Then he repeated it, only this time with conviction. \u201cYeah!\u201d His gaze swiveled to the sheriff. \u201cWe need your help, sheriff. We need to search that area again. This time, with a fine-tooth comb. We have to find my little brother.\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n 10<\/strong><\/p>\n I was alone and the waiting was almost more than I could bear. Pa, torn between staying with me and going in search of Little Joe, had taken some persuading that I would be fine, but finally left me on my own.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll rest,\u201d I promised him. \u201cI won\u2019t do anything rash. Just find Little Joe. He\u2019s been out there two days already. Just find him, you hear? \u201c<\/p>\n But resting wasn\u2019t that easy. I drifted in and out of troubled sleep that left me more exhausted. I could find no position for my damaged leg that didn\u2019t hurt, and I was loathe to take the laudanum left for me, beside the bed, because I wanted my head to be clear. I wanted to think, and to be awake when Pa and Hoss returned, with Joe in tow. I didn\u2019t let myself think they would return without him, but I couldn\u2019t shift the fear lodged like a solid ball inside me. In the end, I got out of bed, limping pitifully on my damaged leg, and dragged an armchair to the window, so I could at least be that much closer to the manhunt.<\/p>\n I sank wearily into the chair, wrapped in a quilt from the bed, giddy with the effort of moving, and frustrated by my own weakness.\u00a0\u00a0 But, at least I could now see the main street, with all its comings and goings, and watch for the return of Pa, or Hoss, or the sheriff.<\/p>\n Kyle Norland came by my hotel room late that afternoon, bearing a tray of food covered with a cloth.<\/p>\n \u201cI saw your pa riding out with the sheriff earlier,\u201d he told me. \u201cSaid they believe Little Joe might still be alive.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe is<\/em> still alive,\u201d I said, with certainty. \u201cHe was hurt, but he didn\u2019t die in that fire.\u201d<\/p>\n Kyle nodded, but he wasn\u2019t convinced, I could tell.<\/p>\n I rubbed my hand across my eyes. My head still throbbed. \u201cWhy doesn\u2019t anyone believe me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not that we don\u2019t believe you, Adam.\u201d Kyle sighed. \u201cIt\u2019s just\u2026well, it\u2019s been two whole days.\u201d<\/p>\n I knew what he was saying. My own common sense had been trying to hammer the same message into my stubborn brain all afternoon.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s a tough kid. A survivor. You\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/p>\n Kyle nodded again. \u201cI hope you\u2019re right. I just wish I\u2019d done more at the time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, you did right. If you\u2019d roused Deverell\u2019s suspicions, they\u2019d\u2019ve taken it out on Joe. They were holding him hostage all the time I was here in Placerville.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, so Hoss said.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou raised the alarm and let Pa and Hoss know. I can\u2019t thank you enough for that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLeast I could do.\u201d Kyle set the tray down on the table. \u201cYour pa asked me to bring you some food. There\u2019s broth here, and biscuits. Oh, and a bottle of whiskey. Thought it might help. Anything else I can get for you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSome clothes. Mine seem to have vanished. All I can find are my boots.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour pa told me you might say that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHuh! So, he thinks if he takes my clothes away, I\u2019ll do as I\u2019m told, and stay here and rest?\u201d I allowed myself a tiny smile. \u201cThat figures.\u201d<\/p>\n Kyle looked serious again. \u201cYou were in a bad way when they brought you in, Adam. I saw the state you were in. Your pa and Hoss hadn\u2019t gotten here yet. They took you straight to the doc\u2019s office and the sheriff came by to ask if I could identify you. Someone thought they\u2019d seen you in the bank that morning. Your clothes were pretty burned, I\u2019m afraid. You\u2019re lucky to be alive, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n It was true. I knew it. I was<\/em> lucky, and I had no idea how it had happened.<\/p>\n \u201cJust hope Joe\u2019s lucky too,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n Kyle stayed with me while I ate. I discovered he knew Daniel Brayforth.<\/p>\n \u201cI was supposed to meet with him Monday afternoon,\u201d I said. \u201cHe\u2019s going to be wondering where I am. Any chance you could explain the situation to him, and let him know I\u2019ll be in touch as soon as I\u2019m able?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n Kyle must have noticed the way my eyes kept returning to the window all the time because, when he rose to leave, he said, \u201cTake the doctor\u2019s advice, Adam. Stay here and rest. I\u2019ll keep my ear to the ground. If I hear anything\u2014anything at all\u2014I\u2019ll come straight on over.\u201d<\/p>\n Having eaten, I felt stronger, but that didn\u2019t help my situation. I could still do nothing but fret. Afternoon became evening, and the sun began its slow descent behind the mountains, and still there was no sign of Pa, or Hoss, or the sheriff. Dusk deepened the shadows in the room behind me, and finally there was no point in sitting any longer by the window because there was too little light remaining. I rose from my chair with some difficulty, like a man twice my age. I lit a lamp, and as I was adjusting the wick, a knock at the door made my anxious heart jump.<\/p>\n It was Kyle. His face was grave.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is it?\u201d I asked when he hesitated before speaking.<\/p>\n \u201cSit down,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Under normal circumstances, I\u2019d have ignored him, and insisted on hearing what he had to say, there and then. But my head felt oddly light, and the look on his face had set my battered body trembling. I sat on the bed, and he sat down beside me.<\/p>\n \u201cI just heard that two of the sheriff\u2019s men rode back into town about half an hour ago. Came to get a wagon.\u201d He took a deep breath. \u201cThey\u2026they\u2019ve found another body.\u201d<\/p>\n A strange sense of unreality swept around me. \u201cJoe?\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n Kyle pursed his mouth. \u201cI don\u2019t know. But\u2026I think you have to be prepared.\u201d<\/p>\n I fought down an unfamiliar panic rising inside me. I had to battle to keep it out of my voice. \u201cRight. Yes. Thanks for letting me know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you all right? You don\u2019t look so good.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m fine. I\u2019ll be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou want me to stay for a bit?\u201d<\/p>\n I shook my head. \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d I said again, persuading myself as much as Kyle. \u201cIf you hear anything else\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n He rose from the bed. \u201cYes, of course. Of course, I\u2019ll let you know.\u201d<\/p>\n The door closed behind him and I drew long, wavering breaths to try to steady the shaking in my limbs. Then I remembered the whiskey Kyle had brought earlier. My hand trembling, I poured a generous quantity into a glass tumbler and knocked it back in three gulps. It helped. I poured some more and took the bottle and the glass with me, back to my armchair.<\/p>\n I was drifting in a kind of half-sleep, plagued by restless thoughts and dreams, when I heard sounds in the hallway beyond my room, and realized they weren\u2019t figments of my troubled mind, but footsteps, heavy and real, voices, low and urgent. The door opened and Hoss was there, and behind him, Pa, with something in his arms; a bundle wrapped in a grey woolen blanket.<\/p>\n \u201cSpread a couple of towels on that bed,\u201d said Pa to Hoss, nodding at the second bed. Hoss scrambled to find the towels. Neither of them spared me a glance or a word, as if for a moment, I had ceased to exist.<\/p>\n Pa put the blanket-wrapped bundle down on the bed, and his hands drew back the folds of the wool. It took me a few moments to recognize the creature inside as my brother, so caked in soot and dust was his body.\u00a0\u00a0 His shirt was gone from his back, his pants singed and blackened. One boot was missing, and even beneath all the filth, I could see the purple swelling of his foot and ankle. But, as Pa set him down, his lips parted. He muttered, incoherently, his teeth unnaturally white against the griminess of his face.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe!\u201d I whispered, half in disbelief. I looked from Pa to Hoss. \u201cHe\u2019s alive! What happened? Where did you find him?\u201d<\/p>\n Pa poured water into a glass and raised Joe\u2019s shoulders so he could touch the glass to the boy\u2019s lips. \u201cYou were right, Adam. He wasn\u2019t in that cabin. We found him less than a mile away. At the bottom of a gully.\u201d He turned his attention to Joe as the kid choked on the water. \u201cEasy, Joe. Take it easy, son.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss pulled off his hat and set it down on the table. \u201cWe were lucky. It was getting dark. Much longer and it\u2019d\u2019a\u2019 been too dark to see him.\u201d He drew his mouth tight. \u201cDon\u2019t reckon he\u2019d\u2019a\u2019 lasted another night. Not without water.\u201d<\/p>\n I licked my lips. My mouth felt dry too. \u201cKyle told me you\u2019d found a body. I thought\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe did.\u201d Hoss\u2019s face hardened. \u201cJack Deverell\u2019s. Sheriff brung him in. Someone shot him. In the neck.\u201d<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t understand, but for the moment, it didn\u2019t matter. All that mattered right then was that Joe was alive.<\/p>\n Someone knocked on the door. Hoss opened it. A man in a calico apron was there with two steaming pitchers in his hands.<\/p>\n \u201cYour hot water, sir,\u201d he said, \u201cand Ned says to tell you the doc\u2019s on his way.\u201d<\/p>\n I watched as Pa and Hoss sponged the grime from Joe\u2019s body. Hoss put a pillow under his swollen ankle, and they turned him carefully onto his side. I could see why. Beneath the dirt, the skin of his back was raw and angry.<\/p>\n \u201cThey flogged him,\u201d I said. \u201cSam Deverell took a strap to his back.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss muttered under his breath. Pa poured fresh water into a bowl, took a clean cloth and dabbed gently at the broken welts. Even through the fog of delirium, Joe recoiled, protesting. Hoss steadied him, speaking softly. I looked on uselessly, my throat strangely full.<\/p>\n The doctor arrived. I had no recollection of him, but his serious face lightened when he saw me.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re looking a whole lot better than when I saw you last,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n I recalled Kyle, the day I was in the bank with Jack Deverell, telling me there was a good doctor in town. I was glad to see he hadn\u2019t been exaggerating. The doctor nodded in approval at what Pa and Hoss had already done to clean up Joe\u2019s ravaged back. Then he set Joe\u2019s foot with painstaking precision, and when he\u2019d finished, he patted my father\u2019s arm.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re a fortunate man, Mr. Cartwright. You have sons who are determined to stay alive, whatever it takes.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He gestured with his head at Joe. \u201cWhat this boy needs is water and rest. And send out for some milk. Milk will do him the world of good. Get some flesh back on his bones. I\u2019ll leave you this salve for his back, and for the burns on his hands and arms, and I\u2019ll be back in the morning to see how he\u2019s doing.\u201d<\/p>\n Then he turned to me. \u201cSince I\u2019m here\u2026\u201d he said.<\/p>\n He checked me over and pronounced the wound on my head to be healing nicely. \u201cThat\u2019s a very neat stitching job, even if I do say so myself,\u201d he told me with a smile.<\/p>\n It was news to me that I even had stitches in my head. He asked me if I was still in pain, or experiencing any giddiness or nausea, and I told him I was fine, even if that wasn\u2019t entirely true. Then he unwrapped the dressings from my leg, and I saw clearly, for the first time, the damage to my left shin: the blistering burn that had cut a groove almost from ankle to knee, and the swollen bruising, blue and purple, that surrounded it. But there was evidence also of a deep and ugly puncture wound in the muscle to the side of my shin bone. I stared in surprise, and some distaste, at the mess and shook my head in bafflement.<\/p>\n \u201cI just don\u2019t remember it happening.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhoever hit you on the head, hit you hard,\u201d the doctor told me. \u201cI\u2019m not surprised you don\u2019t remember much after that. Looks to me as if something fell on you. Something heavy to cause that amount of bruising. Didn\u2019t just burn you, it impaled you here.\u201d<\/p>\n He wrapped my leg again with fresh dressings.<\/p>\n \u201cRest, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d he stressed as he tied off the bandages and rose. \u201cThat\u2019s the ticket for both of you.\u201d<\/p>\n I wasn\u2019t fit for much else other than rest, although my mind still refused to relax, struggling in vain to recall the missing pieces of the day of the fire. After the doctor left, I was unaccountably exhausted, yet when I drifted into sleep, my dreams were so troubled and vivid, I jerked awake with my heart thudding uncomfortably, and my thoughts still racing. Joe woke me too, several times. His muscles, starved too long of food and water, seized in violent cramps that convulsed his whole body. Pa tried to help him by giving him laudanum, but it only made him vomit. His tortured cries tied my own insides in knots of anguish for which there was no relief.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t know when I finally fell asleep and stayed that way, but when I awoke, the sun was high in the sky beyond the open window, and for the first time since Joe and I had ridden away from the Ponderosa, I felt rested. I savored the sensation for a full few moments before turning my head to look across the room at the other bed. Joe lay asleep, finally quiet. Hoss sat in the armchair between us, head back, mouth open, snoring intermittently. On the cupboard beside my bed, a small pile of three books rested. I frowned, wondering. They hadn\u2019t been there when I went to sleep.<\/p>\n I sat up in bed, disturbing Hoss.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam,\u201d he said, surprised, \u201cyou\u2019re awake, at last.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I didn\u2019t mean to wake you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, that\u2019s a\u2019right. I ain\u2019t s\u2019posed to be sleeping anyways. I should be keeping an eye on you two.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t need to keep an eye on me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s a matter of opinion, older brother. You ain\u2019t back to rights yet, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n I smiled at his earnestness, and put out a hand to the books. \u201cWhere\u2019s Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOver at the sheriff\u2019s office. Some of them marked bank notes turned up in a saloon in Sacramento.\u201d He nodded at the books. \u201cDaniel Brayforth sent those over. Said they might keep you occupied while you\u2019re on the mend.\u201d<\/p>\n I picked up the top book. \u201cMadame Bovary. This should certainly be entertaining.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss\u2019s eyes brightened. \u201cAin\u2019t that the book you tol\u2019 me caused all the fuss in Europe?\u201d \u201cMaybe I could read it after you, huh, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe stirred in his bed. \u201cAdam,\u201d he muttered. \u201cAdam?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m here, Joe,\u201d I said, but he didn\u2019t hear me. His eyes were closed, his head moving restlessly, his lips, cracked and peeling, repeating my name.<\/p>\n Hoss rose and leaned over him, touching his arm. \u201cSssh, Joe. Adam\u2019s here. Try and rest, buddy.\u201d<\/p>\n The soothing didn\u2019t work. Joe jerked away from Hoss\u2019s touch, his face creasing and his voice rising in panic.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam! Adam!\u201d<\/p>\n I threw back the blankets. Hoss shook his head at me. \u201cAdam, you stay in that bed.\u201d<\/p>\n But I was already up and hobbling across the room. \u201cIt\u2019s all right,\u201d I assured Hoss, as he rose with an anxious face, to steady me. \u201cLet me talk to him.\u201d<\/p>\n I sat down on the edge of Joe\u2019s bed. He was lunging restlessly beneath the quilt, the calling of my name punctuated by cries of pain caused by his own tossing and turning. I held him by the shoulders to prevent him hurting himself more, but he fought me, still trapped in the dark bubble of his nightmare.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe!\u201d I said, and then again, more sharply, \u201cJoe!\u201d<\/p>\n His eyes, still sunk too way too deep in their sockets, sprang open. He stared at me blankly then, gradually, comprehension dawned on his face.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d he said, his voice far from certain.<\/p>\n I nodded.<\/p>\n He stared in silence for another long moment, confusion in his eyes. His voice cracked. \u201cI thought you were dead.\u201d<\/p>\n I gave a little laugh. \u201cI thought you<\/em> were dead.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI went to get help. I\u2026.\u201d He closed his eyes and a tremor of pain wrinkled his face. \u201cI must have gone the wrong way. I\u2026I fell.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019d be about right,\u201d said Hoss, beside me. \u201cYou done fell down a gully and broke your foot.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe opened his eyes again and gave a small nod. \u201cYeah. I remember.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJoe,\u201d I said, \u201cDo you remember what happened in the cabin? Before you went for help?\u201d<\/p>\n He stared at me, saying nothing.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you remember the fire?\u201d I asked him.<\/p>\n Still he didn\u2019t speak, but I could see he did. Eventually, his voice barely more than a whisper, he said, \u201cYes. We were locked in the back.\u201d<\/p>\n My heart jumped. \u201cThat\u2019s right. How did you get the door open?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI couldn\u2019t. I couldn\u2019t open it.\u201d His eyes clouded, sank deeper still. \u201cCharlie\u2026.\u201d He frowned. \u201cCharlie let us out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCharlie?\u201d I opened my own eyes wide. \u201cCharlie came back?\u201d All at once, the puzzle began to make sense. Something cold clutched at my belly.<\/p>\n \u201cI couldn\u2019t wake you.\u201d Joe\u2019s voice was hoarse. \u201cThe cabin was on fire. We couldn\u2019t see the way. Couldn\u2019t breathe. The roof was falling in around us. It fell on you and\u2026and Charlie.\u201d<\/p>\n His voice caught. He closed his eyes, his face contorting. I waited until he was able to continue, sensing his body trembling beneath the covers.<\/p>\n \u201cI dragged you outside, but Charlie\u2026I don\u2019t know what happened. I couldn\u2019t see him anymore. I tried to go back. I tried to help him. But the fire\u2026it was too hot. It was just too hot\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n His voice rose and broke again. I rubbed his arm in an attempt to offer some small comfort, struggling to take in what he\u2019d told me. I could still remember nothing of our escape. \u201cIt\u2019s all right, Joe, you did your best. You did your best.\u201d<\/p>\n I looked up at Hoss, standing beside me. Horror filled his eyes, like pain. \u201cDagnabbit!\u201d he muttered. \u201cSo it was Charlie the sheriff found.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d whispered Joe. \u201cSo sorry!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cListen,\u201d I told him, leaning close to his face so he\u2019d hear me through his grief, \u201cyou have nothing to be sorry about, you hear me? You did everything you could.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI told Charlie about the money in the first place. If it hadn\u2019t been for me\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I told him firmly, \u201cthat\u2019s enough. We all make mistakes. I took the three of them on in the first place, so it was as much my fault as yours. But it doesn\u2019t work like that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI should have kept my mouth shut. None of this would have happened.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, and if wishes were horses…\u201d<\/p>\n He sank back against the pillows when I said that, and turned his face away from me, squeezing his eyes shut.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t you go blaming yourself for what happened to Charlie,\u201d I told him, sounding, even to my own ears, like Pa. \u201cWhat the Deverells did, that was down to them. You\u2019re not responsible for the way they behaved.\u00a0\u00a0 We all mess up sometimes and we all have to decide how to make things right again. That\u2019s the true measure of a man, Joe: not how many mistakes he makes but how he deals with them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCharlie came back,\u201d he whispered. \u201cHe tried to make it right. And now he\u2019s dead.\u201d His voice cracked on a dry sob.<\/p>\n I could think of nothing else to say to ease his grief.\u00a0\u00a0 Nothing would ever make sense of the horror and the waste of what had happened. Hoss put his hand on my shoulder and I was grateful for the gentle pressure of his touch. I clasped Joe\u2019s arm and hoped he\u2019d find the same comfort from a brother\u2019s touch.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n 11<\/strong><\/p>\n Strange how good things so often come out of something bad. That\u2019s how it was for Joe and me, after what happened on that trip to Placerville. Our relationship changed. I stopped dismissing him as a child. I hadn\u2019t even been aware I was doing that, but watching him during that trip to Placerville, I saw him as the man he was soon to be, a man of courage and determination, someone I could rely on when times got tough. Those nightmare days made me reassess my own priorities. I realized how distant I had grown from the things that should have mattered most to me. It\u2019s too easy sometimes to focus on a distant dream and, in the process, miss what\u2019s right under your very nose.<\/p>\n Sheriff Hannigan caught Sam Deverell, thanks to Kyle Norland\u2019s foresight in marking those notes. Sam Deverell was a changed man too. When they brought him to court, he was no longer the arrogant bully he\u2019d been only weeks before. He\u2019d lost weight, his eyes were red-rimmed, his skin sallow. Turned out, he was the one who\u2019d shot his brother. Not deliberately. It happened because of Charlie. With the smoke rising from the cabin behind them, Charlie finally realized things had gone too far, and turned back to let us out of the burning building. Sam shouted at him to stop but Charlie refused to listen, so Sam took out his gun and fired a shot after the boy. Sam broke down when he related that part of the story; said he hadn\u2019t intended to hurt Charlie, just to make him take notice, and stop. But Jack, seeing a gun pointed at his son\u2019s back, had launched himself at Sam, in an attempt to stop him pulling the trigger. The bullet caught him in the side of the neck. He\u2019d bled to death in minutes. Sam, scared, had tried to hide his brother\u2019s body in some scrub, done his best to cover the bloodstains in the dirt, fled the scene, taking the money with him. But, he told the court with downcast eyes, his voice trembling with emotion, there was no joy left in it. He\u2019d lost what really mattered.<\/p>\n It was sobering to watch that giant of a man break down in the court. I might even have felt some pity for him, but I could not erase from my mind the image of him swinging that strap at my brother\u2019s back. Joe sat beside me in the courtroom, his body still bearing the marks of Sam Deverell\u2019s savagery, and I saw how his hands shook in his lap as the big man wept. I don\u2019t think Deverell even cared when the judge told him he would be going to prison for twenty years.<\/p>\n Joe bounced back, though. His resilience amazes me. He\u2019s still walking with a crutch, but he gets around the house and yard faster than any of us, and is desperate to be back in the saddle. He\u2019s back to laughing and joking and pulling pranks. When you\u2019ve gotten that close to dying, every new day feels like a blessing. The memories haunt him, though. He doesn\u2019t admit it, but I know they do. I\u2019ve heard him cry out in his sleep when the nightmares come. They come for me too. I wake in a sweat with the stink of smoke in my nostrils, and my chest so tight, I\u2019m gasping for breath. And yesterday, I found him, alone at corral, leaning against the rail, staring into empty space. He jumped when I spoke to him, and rubbed his arm hastily across his face. I pretended not to notice he\u2019d been crying.<\/p>\n \u201cYou were miles away,\u201d I said, leaning my back and elbows against the wooden rails. \u201cEverything all right?\u201d<\/p>\n He kept his face averted from my gaze. \u201cYeah,\u201d he said. We stood side by side in silence for a long while, with just the sound of the warm breeze whispering through the dry grass around us. Finally, he said, \u201cI was just thinking about Charlie.\u201d<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t say anything.<\/p>\n \u201cI still don\u2019t understand it,\u201d he said. \u201cI thought we were friends.\u201d He looked around, at the empty corral, the dusty grass, the cloudless sky above our heads.<\/p>\n I turned around so we were facing the same direction. \u201cYeah, that\u2019s tough. He was pulled too many ways. It\u2019s difficult to choose when your loyalty\u2019s divided.\u201d I paused momentarily, brought up short by the truth of what I\u2019d just said. Turning my attention back to Joe, I said, \u201cBut he proved himself in the end, didn\u2019t he? He came back. He saved us both. That\u2019s what friends do.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe didn\u2019t answer. I let him be. The soft wind ruffled our shirt sleeves and dried the trail of tears on Joe\u2019s cheeks. Eventually, I stirred and turned my head to look at him properly.<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s something I wanted to say to you.\u201d He didn\u2019t respond but I knew he was listening. I fumbled for the right words. \u201cThe whole time we were\u2026the whole time we were prisoners\u2026.The way you handled yourself. You showed a lot of courage. I just wanted you to know, I was\u2026proud you were my brother.\u201d<\/p>\n He looked down at the fence rail. His jaw flexed a few times. Then he raised his face to me. \u201cYou mean that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course I mean it, you galoot. I don\u2019t say things I don\u2019t mean.\u201d<\/p>\n I saw his eyes grow brighter. His mouth relaxed into the beginnings of a smile. \u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou going to be all right?\u201d<\/p>\n He nodded. After a moment or two, he said, \u201cAre you?\u201d<\/p>\n I hadn\u2019t expected the question. I smiled. \u201cYeah,\u201d I told him. Then I added, \u201cThanks for asking.\u201d<\/p>\n *******<\/p>\n I\u2019m going ahead with the project in Placerville, with Daniel, but once that\u2019s over, I plan to concentrate on my work here, on the Ponderosa. Pa, Hoss, Joe and I are a team, a team that works well together, and a man mustn\u2019t let himself be pulled in too many directions. Those dreams of other horizons, that\u2019s all they are, simply dreams. This is my world and what happened to Joe and me just helped me figure that out. I consider myself a fortunate man.\u00a0\u00a0 For now, at least.<\/p>\n Besides which, tonight I take Susannah McKenna to the dance.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Tags:\u00a0 Adam Cartwright,\u00a0ESA,\u00a0ESJ,\u00a0Fire,\u00a0hostage,\u00a0JAM,\u00a0Joe \/ Little Joe Cartwright,\u00a0kidnap,\u00a0SAS,\u00a0SJS<\/p>\n
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