{"id":12898,"date":"2002-11-05T10:36:30","date_gmt":"2002-11-05T15:36:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=12898"},"modified":"2026-07-22T13:08:18","modified_gmt":"2026-07-22T17:08:18","slug":"the-lengths-a-man-can-be-driven-by-jenny-g","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=12898","title":{"rendered":"The Lengths a Man can be Driven To. . . (by Jenny G)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary:\u00a0 <\/strong>A just for fun story that asks the question, \u2018What does it take to drive Adam to desperate measures?\u2019<\/p>\n

Rating:\u00a0 K+\u00a0 (2,680 words)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Lengths a Man can be Driven To…<\/strong><\/p>\n

Mesquite-John Smith had witnessed sixty-three summers that he remembered. Perhaps three or four more that he didn\u2019t recall. Smith had been a lot of things in his long and eventful lifetime; not all of them he was proud of and not all of them could be considered strictly inside the law. His most recent range of endeavours fell, quite distinctly, into the latter category. On this particular summer\u2019s morning, not long before midday, he stepped out of the sway backed cabin that had been his most recent home and stood, splay-legged, on the porch while he admired with due appreciation the undeniably artistry of the good Lord\u2019s creation.<\/p>\n

The tiny valley was a shallow bowl, lush and green, tucked neatly away into a fold of the hills. It was quite indistinguishable from any one of a dozen others of this southern fringe of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Two large stands of gnarled live oak trees grew at the lower end, hiding the faint, meandering trail that was the only way in. They effectively concealed the valley\u2019s very existence from any casual passers-by – not that there were any passers-by in this remote and unpeopled part of the country, which was precisely the reason that Mesquite-John had selected it. Beyond the evergreen cloak of concealment, the valley was a little pocket of heaven on earth, everything that could be desired by a man in his current line of illegality. The floor was even, sloping upwards towards the higher ground at the rear. It was clothed in rich meadowland: sweet, long stemmed grassed and bright summer flowers in abundance. Willows dotted the banks of the stream; a bend slowed the flow of the icy, crystal clear water and made a safe watering place for the stock. The cabin, solidly built out of split pine logs by some long dead and forgotten hermit, was well weathered but had needed only a few minor repairs to make it weatherproof. It was cool in the daytime and warm and cosy at night. It had been the work of just two or three days to construct a small corral, and there was a lean-to shed at the back for the horses. Over all, from tree-clad hill to hilltop, encompassing the grassland and the forest that filled the valley\u2019s upper end, was the unbroken vault of God\u2019s golden sky.<\/p>\n

Mesquite-John rubbed at his coarse-stubbled chin and briefly considered a shave. He scratched at his chest through his none too clean vest and hooked his thumbs underneath his suspenders. From where he stood, he could just about see the cattle: fifty or more Longhorn and Hereford-cross steers grazing contentedly knee-deep in the grass. The steers were fattening nicely and they, and a hundred or so cousins that would soon be joining them, would bring a good price come autumn in the beef-starved villages and outlaw camps just south of the border in the sovereign state of Arizona. Then there would be money for good food, whiskey and girls \u2013 just the things to set a man up for the winter. Smith allowed himself a sigh of satisfaction. The small point in fact, that the cattle wore a wide selection of brands and belonged, lock stock and barrel to somebody else, didn\u2019t trouble him for more than a moment.<\/p>\n

He stretched and yawned, coming to the conclusion that all this fresh air and sunshine at this unearthly hour of the morning simply wasn\u2019t good for a man. He needed a slug of good, strong coffee to get the day started right. Scratching again at the place where it itched, he turned back to the cabin door. Then he turned back and peered myopically into the sunlight. There were men riding up the valley from the direction of the live oaks, following the line of the stream. In the glare of the sun, Smith had almost missed them. He considered fetching his rifle from where it leaned by the door, but as they drew level with the shack and turned up the hill, their faces came into focus.<\/p>\n

He recognised them \u2013 two of them anyway. Jethro and Jessie, the Lothro brothers and Mesquite-John\u2019s supposed partners, \u2018though, if truth were told, he wouldn\u2019t trust either one of them as far as he could spit. The other man, the one in the middle with his hands bound tightly to the horn of his saddle and his neckerchief wound \u2018round his mouth, he had never seen before in his life. Curiosity getting the better of him, Mesquite-John stepped down from the porch and walked out in front of the shack to meet them.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat you two doin\u2019 back here so early?\u201d he demanded, addressing himself to Jethro, the eldest of the two brothers and the one who laid claim to at least a few brains. \u201cWhy ain\u2019t you brought no cows with you? An\u2019 who in heck\u2019s he?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jessie and Jethro exchanged long and meaningful glances. Jethro shifted in his saddle and Jessie uneasily looked away.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe had cows,\u201d Jethro said, \u201cThree or four head all gathered up and headed this was as nice as you please. Then this here fella comes ridin\u2019 towards us, yellin\u2019 an\u2019 wavin\u2019 his arms. I reckon he\u2019s clean off his head.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mesquite-John stepped close up and peered at the stranger. He was a big man: tall, wide in the shoulder and lean in the hip, all dressed in black clothes with a somewhat disreputable yellow barn-coat worn over his shirt. Black hair curled into the nap of his neck, and gold-flecked brown eyes stared back down at him with an expression that was something closely akin to panic. Mesquite-John sucked thoughtfully at the stumps that were all that remained of his teeth. \u201cWhat\u2019d he say when he was doin\u2019 all that yellin\u2019?\u201d he asked at last.<\/p>\n

The stranger tried to answer himself, but the words were lost in the folds of the scarf and came out a mumble. He pulled at the rope on his wrists but he couldn\u2019t get free. At least the Lothros had made a decent job of tying him up.<\/p>\n

Jethro pushed his hat to the back of his head and scratched at his thinning hair. \u201cHe seemed to be sayin\u2019 as how these were his cows an\u2019 how he wanted us ta give ourselves us ta the sheriff. Seemed ta be real important ta him.\u201d<\/p>\n

The stranger nodded his head energetically.<\/p>\n

Mesquite-John said, \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you just shoot him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHeck!\u201d Jethro recoiled as if he\u2019d just stepped on a snake. \u201cI can\u2019t shoot no mad-man. Just don\u2019t seem right. Anyway\u2019s, ain\u2019t that supposed ta be bad luck or somethin\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSides,\u201d Jessie added, \u201cHe weren\u2019t doin\u2019 no shootin’ at us. I ain\u2019t never shot at no man what didn\u2019t shoot at me first.\u201d<\/p>\n

Smith scratched his stubble. \u201cWell, why\u2019d ya bring \u2018im here fer?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jethro and Jessie traded another long look. \u201cWe couldn\u2019t hardly leave \u2018im out there on the range crazy like he is.\u201d Jethro explained. \u201cEven after we give \u2018im back his cows he kept comin\u2019 after us, rantin\u2019 and wavin\u2019 his hands. That\u2019s why we had ta truss \u2018im up like \u2018e is. He was so all-fired excited, \u2018e was like ta fall off his horse.\u201d<\/p>\n

The stranger tried again to say something, with an equal lack of success. He rolled his eyes in frustration. Mesquite-John smith took a long step back. It didn\u2019t look like he could get free from those ropes, but there was no sense in taking chances.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe had ta put that cloth round his face just ta stop him a-talkin\u2019.\u201d Jessie added. \u201cHe just kept goin\u2019 on about how the sheriff was a real good friend o\u2019 his and would let us off real easy, and his Pa givin\u2019 him some sort o\u2019 reward. Didn\u2019t make no sense at-all.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mesquite-John was mystified. \u201cThere ain\u2019t no reward on our heads.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know it, an\u2019 you know it,\u201d Jethro shrugged. \u201cReckon he\u2019s just plain loco.\u201d<\/p>\n

Smith heaved a sigh. \u201cLoco or not, we can\u2019t leave \u2018im sittin\u2019 up there in the saddle.\u201d You better bring \u2018im inside.\u201d<\/p>\n

The single room of the cabin was not very large, and the stranger, when they got him down from his horse, was a whole lot bigger than he had appeared. With his hands still bound and the gag in his mouth, they sat him down on the bunk in the corner, the very same one Mesquite-John had only recently vacated. They stood close together \u2013 there was no room left to do anything else \u2013 and looked him over. He looked back with those tawny-gold eyes. \u201cWhat we gonna do with \u2018in now?\u201d Jethro inquired.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe could still shoot \u2018im.\u201d Mesquite-John suggested without any real conviction. \u201cI had a dawg once, went loco. I had ta put \u2018im down.\u201d<\/p>\n

Evidently the stranger had enough of his wits about him to understand what they were saying. He shook his head violently.<\/p>\n

Jethro considered, then shook his head. \u201cCan\u2019t do that. A man ain\u2019t like a dawg. Sooner or later, some folk\u2019ll come lookin\u2019 fer him. They ain\u2019t gonna be happy iffen they find him dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

The stranger nodded agreement.<\/p>\n

Smith scratched his vest. \u201cWho is he anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jethro and Jessie both shrugged. \u201cI ain\u2019t never seen \u2018im before,\u201d Jessie ventured. \u201cIffen you take that gag off ta ask \u2018im, he\u2019s gonna start up that yelling ag\u2019in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe sure ain\u2019t hard up for a dime or two,\u201d Jethro put in. \u201cWith them fancy duds and that fancy gun he\u2019s tottin\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got somethin\u2019 wi\u2019 you name on it, Mister?\u201d Mesquite-John asked. The stranger thought about it and nodded. Mesquite John searched through his pockets. Inside the yellow-barn coat he found a letter. He pushed it at Jethro. \u201cWhat\u2019s that say there?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHeck, I don\u2019t know! No one ever learned me ta read.\u201d<\/p>\n

Smith looked at Jessie and decided not even to ask. He squinted at the letters but couldn\u2019t make out the name. \u201cThen I guess there ain\u2019t nothin’ fer it. We\u2019re gonna have ta let \u2018him tell us. Take off that gag.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jethro\u2019s thick fingers fumbled with the knot at the back of the stranger\u2019s head and eventually pulled it undone. The stranger spat out the cloth. The three of them looked at him expectantly while he pulled a long breath. His eyes shifted from one to the other, and then to the pot-bellied stove. \u201cI sure could use some of that coffee, fellas.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jethro and Jessie looked at each other. Mesquite-John scratched an itch. \u201cWell, he sure ain\u2019t yelling. Pour him a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jethro turned to the stove and slopped thick black coffee in to a cup; he handed it over and the stranger took it in his bound hands. Hot as it was, he sipped at it greedily. \u201cWho in heck are you?\u201d Mesquite-John asked. Certainly the stranger was starting to look a better colour. He\u2019d been quite pale under the tan.<\/p>\n

The stranger held out his cup for a refill, and Jethro duly obliged. \u201cMy name\u2019s Adam Cartwright. I come from a ranch to the north of here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou one of those \u2018Ponderosa Cartwrights\u2019?\u201d Mesquite-John asked. \u201cI heard a whole lot about you.\u201d He didn\u2019t add that half the cattle in the meadow outside were wearing the Ponderosa brand on their hips.<\/p>\n

The stranger nodded; he seemed to be regaining his composure. His eyes slid round the shack. \u201cI\u2019m one of them. And you\u2019re the men that have been stealing our cattle.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mesquite John hooked his thumbs in the top of his pants. \u201cWhat makes you think that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour friends were driving my steers.\u201d Adam said, reasonably.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat don\u2019t mean we was stealin\u2019 \u2018em,\u201d Jessie objected. Three pairs of eyes regarded him with some speculation. No one had ever claimed Jessie was bright.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was all the yellin\u2019 about?\u201d Jethro asked. \u201cWhy\u2019d you want us ta give ourselves up ta the sheriff?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s expression changed to one of acute embarrassment. \u201cI have to apologise for that. I\u2019ve had a bad week. I\u2019m afraid I kinda lost my head.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps you\u2019d like to explain?\u201d Mesquite-John suggested.<\/p>\n

Idly, Adam scratched at his chest. \u201cIt\u2019s kinda hard to put it into words.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTry.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam pulled a long breath. \u201cWell, I saw these two stealing my steers, and I wondered if you\u2019d be willing to help me out.\u201d<\/p>\n

The three rustlers took a long step backward \u2013 as long as the space would allow. \u201cI told you he was plain loco,\u201d Jethro said.<\/p>\n

Adam Cartwright shook his dark head. \u201cI\u2019m not loco. I\u2019m just a hungry man.\u201d He looked hopefully \u2018round the inside of the shack. \u201cWhile we\u2019re talking, you wouldn\u2019t have somethin\u2019 a man could eat, would you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jethro gazed at him thoughtfully, trying to work it out inside his slow head. \u201cYou Cartwright\u2019s got all that land an\u2019 all that money, an\u2019 you don\u2019t get enough ta eat?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mesquite-John Smith opened up a can of baked beans and set some bacon to fry in the skillet. The room soon filled up with savoury smells. They all stood around and listened while Adam told his sad story, \u201c There\u2019s plenty of food, and we\u2019ve got the best cook in the territory. It\u2019s just that every time I sit down to eat, my Pa finds somethin\u2019 else for me to do. It\u2019s always, Adam, do this; Adam, do that; Adam, go fix it; Adam, find Little Joe. Joe\u2019s my little brother,\u201d he added by way of explanation. For a moment, he buried his face in his hands. \u201cThis morning it was, Adam, go find the lost steers. I haven\u2019t had a square meal for a week. I\u2019ve tried snatching food off the table to take with me, but eating on the hoof gives me fearful indigestion. I\u2019ve stolen food from the kitchen, but the cook only yells. I\u2019ve even tried sneaking into town for a meal at the hotel, but somethin\u2019 always goes wrong with my plans \u2013 say, is that bacon ready?\u201d<\/p>\n

Solemnly, as befitted the occasion, Mesquite-John tipped the bacon and beans on a plate and handed it over. Jethro untied Adam\u2019s hands, and everything was quite for a bit except for the sounds of Adam eating. Mesquite-John watched him shovel it down. \u201cHow was it you figured we could help you?\u201d<\/p>\n

In between mouthfuls, Adam explained, \u201cI thought, if you let me hand you over to the sheriff, my Pa might let me eat supper for a couple of days. Then, I could withdraw the charges, and the sheriff could let you go.\u201d He finished off the last of the beans and looked around for some more.<\/p>\n

Mesquite-John scratched his chin. \u201cI don\u2019t fancy seein\u2019 the inside o\u2019 no jail.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam ran a hand through his hair and scratched at the back of his head. \u201cI don\u2019t rightly see any other way out of this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHere\u2019s what we do,\u201d Mesquite-John said. \u201cYou go back to your Pa an\u2019 tell him that you didn\u2019t find us. You tell him you\u2019ll go out looking every day. Instead, you come up here, and we\u2019ll feed you. Your Pa need never know what you\u2019re up to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam looked doubtful. \u201cWell, alright,\u201d he said, dubiously. Something shifted deep in his eyes. Then, he brightened, \u201cAt least I\u2019ll get a square meal!\u201d<\/p>\n

Mesquite-John stood alongside Jethro and Jessie and watched Adam Cartwright ride away, scratching somewhere under his shirt as he went. Mesquite-John scratched at his butt. \u201cPack up the gear,\u201d he said to the other two. \u201cLets round up the cattle and get some distance behind us.\u201d Jethro looked bemused, and Jessie gaped. Mesquite John-Smith explained, \u201cI never met that fella \u2018til today, but I seen his sort before. Adam Cartwright\u2019s too Goddamned honest for anybody\u2019s good. Hungry or not, tomorrow morning, he\u2019ll be up here with his Pa and his brothers and his friend the sheriff, and, by then, we better be one hell\u2019ve a long way from here.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Potters Bar 2002.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary:\u00a0 A just for fun story that asks the question, \u2018What does it take to drive Adam to desperate measures?\u2019<\/p>\n

Rating:\u00a0 K+\u00a0 (2,680 words)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":9737,"featured_media":13147,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[1005,23,4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12898","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adam-cartwright","category-drama","category-humor","wpcat-1005-id","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-4-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/07\/Screen-Shot-2016-07-12-at-7.28.34-PM.png?fit=653%2C572&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12898","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/9737"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12898"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12898\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/13147"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12898"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12898"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12898"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}