Summary: As they return from Boston, Adam and Joe Cartwright plan to defer resolving their differences until they reach home, but that’s going to be a lot longer and harder journey than they could ever imagine.
\nRating: K
\nWord Count: 49,640 words<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
East, West: Home’s Best Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n East, West: Home’s Best – The Easterner<\/a> East, West: Home’s Best–The Journey Home<\/strong><\/p>\n Little Joe Cartwright hung over the rail of the Northern Light<\/em>, feeling nauseous as he typically did when there wasn\u2019t a strip of land in sight. Something about the open sea just gave him a crawly stomach, but at least, he felt better today than yesterday, when the same conditions had prevailed. The knowledge that they\u2019d reach Aspinwall tomorrow and, at least briefly, be on solid ground again gave him hope. Of course, he could have stayed below to avoid the sickening sight of the sea, but he\u2019d have had to stay in his cramped stateroom, since Adam was amusing himself in the gentlemen\u2019s saloon. And Adam must be avoided at all costs.<\/p>\n Little Joe sighed. It should have been so different. They could have enjoyed traveling home together, if they weren\u2019t still at odds. Odd\u2014yes, that word best described their attitude toward each other the past several days. It wouldn\u2019t have been odd if they were at each other\u2019s throats. It was kind of normal for their differences to build up to an explosion like that and then be over. This time, however, there\u2019d been no explosion, not even a slow burn on either side. More just a rubbing of each other the wrong way and, with it, a cool politeness that was more customary between strangers than brothers.<\/p>\n He had expected to share a stateroom with Adam, to save money. Of course, separate rooms gave each of them more space and made the journey more comfortable, but Joe suspected the separation had less to do with comfort, at least his, and everything to do with Adam plain not wanting his company, even when they were asleep. It hurt. \u201cHey, Mister Joe!\u201d A tow-headed boy of twelve came running up.<\/p>\n Little Joe grinned at the youngster. \u201cHey yourself, Mark. Where\u2019s your sidekick?\u201d The boy\u2019s twin brother was almost always at his side.<\/p>\n \u201cStill pukin\u2019,\u201d Mark informed him. Puffing out his chest, he added, \u201cI\u2019m all better now, just like you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot quite all better,\u201d Little Joe admitted, \u201cbut mostly. Better than Matt, anyway.\u201d He\u2019d joked once to Adam, back when he still entertained some hope of regaining his good graces, that it was a shame the twins\u2019 mother hadn\u2019t had quadruplets, so she could finish out the gospel writers with Luke and John.<\/p>\n \u201cPerish the thought,\u201d Adam had said with a shudder, for he took a rather dim view of his brother\u2019s rambunctious little friends. Doubling their number was, to him, the makings of a nightmare. Joe, on the other hand, relished the boys\u2019 zest for life\u2014and mischief. They reminded him of himself when he was a kid, which, come to think of it, was probably exactly what Adam disliked about them.<\/p>\n Their poor mother had been at a loss to keep them occupied on the long voyage, so Little Joe had willingly taken them in hand. He\u2019d kept the twins enthralled with tales of ranch life and the rousing adventures of the Cartwrights of the Ponderosa. The boys were eager to explore western life, for the West would be their new home. Their father had come to California alone to establish a home and after two years had sent for them and their mother. They figured their new lives would be about as exciting as those of the Cartwrights, so they drank in Joe\u2019s stories as if they were the elixir of life.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not quite all better yet, either,\u201d Mark said, proving once again that he wanted to be like his friend Joe in every way, \u201cbut I reckon I\u2019m up to another cowboy story, if you feel up to tellin\u2019 one.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe stroked his chin as if thinking the suggestion over. \u201cBut won\u2019t Matt be disappointed if you hear one that he doesn\u2019t?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Mark said, almost licking his lips in satisfaction.<\/p>\n Little Joe laughed. \u201cYou want to get one up on him, huh? Well, I guess I could. Us younger brothers got to stick together, don\u2019t we?\u201d Mark was all of two minutes younger than Matthew, as the older brother had been quick to point out at their first meeting.<\/p>\n \u201cYup,\u201d Mark said, poking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants as he fell into step beside Joe.<\/p>\n \u201cHmm,\u201d Little Joe mused. \u201cHave I told you yet about the time Hoss and I robbed the bank?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou never!\u201d Mark exclaimed, mouth hanging open. He couldn\u2019t picture his hero as a bandit, but his eyes lit with excitement.<\/p>\n \u201cYup, I did, with good cause,\u201d Little Joe said, \u201cbut if I tell you about it, it\u2019s got to be our secret, younger brother to younger brother. Older brothers don\u2019t understand; at least, Adam sure didn\u2019t.\u201d Pa hadn\u2019t, either, but he left that unsaid.<\/p>\n \u201cOur secret,\u201d Mark agreed quickly.<\/p>\n ***** It was a thoughtful gift and he was glad to have it, but he hadn\u2019t had anything to give Joe in return and was, frankly, embarrassed to have been outdone by his younger brother. He, of course, had followed the advice he\u2019d given Joe to the letter and shipped all his gifts for Pa and both his brothers home. He probably should have thought, at least, to buy the kid a couple of those horrid dime novels he liked, to help pass the time, as the chess set was meant to do, but during those final days in Boston, he\u2019d spent all his energy just trying not to throttle the kid. Besides, he\u2019d given him his back wages, so Joe could have bought himself any number of the trashy little books, if he\u2019d wanted.<\/p>\n He\u2019d been so angry with Joe over his attitude toward Lily, the girl Adam had met on his eastbound ship and come to care for deeply. Joe\u2019d never been overtly rude, of course; Pa\u2019s upbringing had seen to that, but he had opposed their relationship, for some unfathomable reason, and Lily had noticed. He\u2019d never explained himself very well, either, and Adam wasn\u2019t disposed to reopen the subject. He\u2019d told the kid that he didn\u2019t need advice about his love life from his baby brother\u2014and, yes, he\u2019d used that insulting title deliberately, wanting to hurt as he\u2019d been hurt. Childish behavior, of course, unbefitting his role as elder brother, and he regretted it now. He wasn\u2019t exactly angry anymore, but he wasn\u2019t quite ready to forgive the kid, either, or, rather, to risk another explosion of hostilities with the confines of a seagoing vessel. It had been tough enough at the Pontpier house. For now, it seemed sufficient to be polite, as he would with any man, and just keep the peace.<\/p>\n His thoughts distracted him from his game so much that he missed Addison\u2019s clever counter to his last move and fell into a trap. His opponent\u2019s triumphant declaration of \u201cCheckmate!\u201d was all the proof he needed that time spent thinking about Joe was time wasted. Whatever differences they had were best deferred until they reached their final port and had to face them. San Francisco was probably big enough to sustain the explosion.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n As eight bells sounded, signaling time for the evening meal, Little Joe sighed. Time to face another bleak hour, sitting across the table from Adam. It might not have been so bad if there\u2019d been anyone else at their table for him to talk to, but they were predominantly city-bred men who had more in common with his older brother than with him. So, Joe mostly ate his food in silence, while his brother ignored him in favor of charming everyone else at the table. The only one who paid him any mind at all was the lone female of the group, sadly a woman of at least fifty years. Like them, she was returning from a visit back East, in hopes of being home by Christmas. She\u2019d probably make it, since San Francisco was her final destination, while, as Adam had reminded him more than once, they might have trouble getting across the Sierras in time. Joe had faith, though, and he\u2019d better be right, since he was the one who had insisted on leaving Boston earlier than Adam (not to mention Madeleine Pontpier) had wanted. If there was one thing he didn\u2019t need, it was to hear a lofty \u201cI told you so\u201d from his big brother.<\/p>\n At least, there was the evening reading to look forward to. By mere chance, one of their fellow passengers had been on the same steamship which had brought Adam from Aspinwall to New York City. On that voyage he\u2019d evidently entertained the passengers by reading through some novel by Charles Dickens after supper each night, and the man had told the captain of this ship about it. The captain then asked Adam to treat his passengers to the same nightly entertainment.<\/p>\n Adam, of course, had been only too happy to oblige, and Little Joe was glad. Adam had come up with a pretty good story, something called Adam Bede<\/em>, and Little Joe just flat out loved to hear his brother read. Always had, from the time he was a little kid, listening to Aesop\u2019s<\/em> Fables<\/em> to all the times he\u2019d been laid up by illness or injury and Adam\u2019s ability to make words on a page come alive had been the only thing staving off the dual foes of pain and boredom. Now, the nightly reading was the only thing that made him feel close to Adam, and he relished the praise the other passengers heaped on his brother\u2019s worthy head and wished he could find the words to give Adam his due himself.<\/p>\n He gave his curly hair a quick brush, straightened his tie and hurried out into the dining saloon, eager to get supper over and get to what, for him, was the best part of any day at sea. Even on days he\u2019d been so sick he could hardly hold his head up, he\u2019d dragged himself from his stateroom to listen to his brother read.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n The Northern Light<\/em> docked at Aspinwall just after sunrise, and when Little Joe heard there\u2019d be an hour\u2019s delay before they could board the railroad across the Isthmus of Panama, he headed into town. He knew it wasn\u2019t much of a place, but it was a chance to stretch his legs. Most of the other passengers did the same, although some, like Adam, elected to stay comfortably on board the steamship until they could transfer directly to the train. Adam had shaken his head at Joe\u2019s foolishness, but only said, \u201cDon\u2019t be late.\u201d Of course, Little Joe had assured him he wouldn\u2019t. The consequences of missing that train were too disastrous to contemplate.<\/p>\n Spurning the views of the sea, however beautiful they were, he strolled the dirt streets. He wasn\u2019t really looking at anything in particular, but he did notice Mrs. Davis up ahead, with her twin boys in tow. Briefly, he thought of offering to help her corral them, but decided against it. She was probably headed for the shops and street vendors, and they had nothing he wanted. Instead, he wanted this hour to himself, to walk the solid earth beneath his feet and breathe in air that was, at least, a little less salty than what he\u2019d taken in the last week. A cool, fresh breeze was blowing steadily from the north, and he wanted to enjoy it.<\/p>\n He turned left on leaving the wharf and passed the building that housed the company\u2019s employees, when they were in town, and about 200 yards east of that he saw a beautiful old church, built of heavy stone, as fashionable as any back in Boston. Beyond that, he walked along the railroad track, past hotels, a freight house and offices. As George had told him on his outbound journey, it wasn\u2019t safe to walk much of anywhere else. The swamp behind the buildings teemed with creatures he had no desire to encounter except through the window of a railcar.<\/p>\n Since there wasn\u2019t much to see, he turned back and retraced his steps in well under the hour allotted. Even so, he could see some passengers beginning to board the train. He wouldn\u2019t join them, of course; he wanted fresh air as long as he could get it. Up ahead, though, he saw a slight commotion, but it didn\u2019t set off any alarm bells until young Matthew Davis broke through the crowd and came running pell-mell toward him, screaming, \u201cMr. Joe!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhoa, whoa, pardner,\u201d Little Joe said, catching the boy just before he careened into him. \u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMark!\u201d the boy cried. \u201cHe\u2019s\u2014he\u2019s run off, and it\u2019s \u2018most time for the train\u2014and Mama\u2019s havin\u2019 a conniption.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, and she\u2019s gonna have another when she sees you\u2019ve run off, too,\u201d Joe said.<\/p>\n \u201cBut I got to find my brother!\u201d Matt protested. He hitched in a breath and threw out his chest. \u201cHe\u2019s my baby brother, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Matt sure traded a lot on those two minutes, which only proved that big brothers were the same, the world over. \u201cI\u2019ll find him,\u201d Little Joe promised, \u201cbut we can\u2019t have your mother worrying about you, too. Now, where did you leave her?\u201d<\/p>\n For probably the first time since they\u2019d been acquainted, Matthew looked put out with his friend Joe, and he sounded disgruntled as he dragged out, \u201cBy the church.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe could understand what the boy was feeling and decided distraction would work better than argument. It always had with him. He grabbed Matt under the arms and smoothly swung the youngster onto his shoulders so fast that Matt squealed, first with surprise and then delight, as Joe began to trot down the street like a galloping stallion under a Pony Express rider (or so Matt envisioned). In no time at all, Joe was swinging his rider down into the arms of his frantic mother.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Mr. Cartwright, thank you,\u201d Mrs. Davis cried and immediately started scolding her son. \u201cMatt, how could you take off, too, when you know what a worry your brother\u2019s being?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy don\u2019t you stay here and corral this buckaroo, ma\u2019am, and I\u2019ll find Mark,\u201d Little Joe suggested.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Mr. Cartwright, could you?\u201d Mrs. Davis said. \u201cI\u2019ve no idea where to look, and it\u2019s almost time for the train to depart and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes\u2019m, I\u2019ll find him,\u201d Little Joe broke in and took off before her worried spiel could begin again. At first, he just moved away from her, with no destination in mind, but then he remembered that Mark was a lot like him and asked himself where he\u2019d have gone, if he\u2019d been a boy, suddenly freed from all restraint. This time he didn\u2019t even try to keep from rolling his eyes. Instead, he made a beeline for the place the boy had most likely been warned against\u2014the alligator-infested swamp behind the buildings.<\/p>\n And that\u2019s where he found him, standing paralyzed, knee-deep in muck, staring at an enormous beast with a jaw full of razor-sharp teeth. Little Joe stopped about six feet behind Mark, on ground that seemed squishy but still basically solid, and called the boy\u2019s name softly. He didn\u2019t want to spook the gator, although he didn\u2019t know enough about the animal to guess how it might react if he did. \u201cTake a step backwards, buddy,\u201d he said, \u201cslow and easy.\u201d<\/p>\n Mark didn\u2019t move, as if he\u2019d turned to stone\u2014petrified by fear, Joe surmised. He didn\u2019t blame the kid. He was feeling pretty petrified himself, but he couldn\u2019t give into it. So, he gulped down the boulder in his throat and took a slow step forward. The gator didn\u2019t move. Good. He took another step and felt the ground give an inch or so. Not good; not good at all. He thought he saw the beast\u2019s eye turn toward him, but it could have been his imagination. He stepped forward again, paused to stabilize himself in the sinking terrain and again moved forward. He wanted to run forward, snatch Mark by the hand and run for their lives, but he wasn\u2019t sure he could in the deepening swamp, so he just kept walking, with painfully laborious steps, toward his little friend, until he could lay his hand on Mark\u2019s shoulder, praying the boy wouldn\u2019t detect how hard it was shaking.<\/p>\n \u201cMark, we\u2019re gonna walk backwards out of here,\u201d he said with a calmness he didn\u2019t feel, especially since the swamp muck was now up to his calves. \u201cYou get behind me. Do it now, Mark,\u201d he said sternly when the boy failed to respond at once.<\/p>\n Mark hesitated another moment, but then, thankfully, did as he was told. Still keeping his eyes on the monster\u2019s opening jaw, he got behind Joe, which effectively shielded him from the fearsome sight. Joe reached a hand back to steady him. \u201cKeep moving back, real slow and easy,\u201d Little Joe said, repeating the instruction whenever Mark seemed to hesitate. Step by step, the boy moved backwards, and Joe did, too, even when he thought it was probably safe to turn and run. Finally, they reached the side of a building that effectively blocked them from the alligator\u2019s view.<\/p>\n Little Joe rounded on the boy and said sharply, \u201cWhat did you think you were doing? Didn\u2019t anyone tell you what might be back there?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI wanted to see,\u201d Mark whimpered. \u201cI never seen a gator before.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, me, either!\u201d Joe shouted. \u201cAnd I\u2019d just as soon I hadn\u2019t seen this one.\u201d<\/p>\n Mark\u2019s lower lip thrust out. \u201cDon\u2019t be mad, Mr. Joe. I didn\u2019t mean no harm.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe took a deep breath. \u201cYeah, I know, but you scared me out of a year\u2019s growth, buddy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSorry,\u201d Mark said, with a sheepish look at the man who was more his hero than ever.<\/p>\n Little Joe slid to the ground and removed his shoes. As he poured out the water that had seeped into them, he said, \u201cI know you are, and I ain\u2019t mad, but your ma may be, and you\u2019re on your own handling that.\u201d<\/p>\n Sitting down to empty his shoes, too, Mark grinned. \u201cI can handle Ma,\u201d he assured Joe, who laughed and tousled his hair as he herded him back to his mother.<\/p>\n Mrs. Davis greeted her little prodigal with a cry of joyous relief. \u201cOh, Mark, baby!\u201d She held his cheeks between her hands and folded him to her bosom, heedless of what his muddy trousers were doing to her dress.<\/p>\n Mark flashed a cunning grin at Little Joe, who thought it didn\u2019t look as if \u201cMa\u201d would need much handling, after all. He ambled toward the train, brushing his own trousers as he went.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, for mercy\u2019s sake!\u201d a disgusted voice sputtered.<\/p>\n Little Joe gave his brother the same sort of sheepish grin Mark had sported. \u201cOh, hey, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou just had to do it, didn\u2019t you?\u201d Adam scoffed.<\/p>\n \u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid no one tell you it wasn\u2019t safe to go into the swamp behind the buildings?\u201d He felt a stab of guilt that he hadn\u2019t done so himself, but it only fueled his irritation.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, sure,\u201d Little Joe said, \u201cbut I had to, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, of course! You just had to see the alligators and venomous reptiles!\u201d Adam exhaled with disdain. \u201cIt isn\u2019t a zoo, Joe! The animals aren\u2019t in nice safe cages for your entertainment!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know that!\u201d Joe, too, was building a head of steam by this time.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd just look at you.\u201d With revulsion Adam eyed his brother\u2019s soaked pants, brown from the thick water and dabbled with moss green stains. \u201cAt least, do me the courtesy of keeping that mess well away from me. I don\u2019t choose to have my suit ruined, too!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I\u2019ll keep well away from you, all right!\u201d Little Joe declared hotly. \u201cNothing would be suit me better, older brother.\u201d He stomped toward the train and swung aboard without a backward glance.<\/p>\n Adam shook his head. What was the matter with that boy? The fact that he was still a boy, probably, but he was a boy who wouldn\u2019t reach manhood, if he kept amusing himself with larks like this. He sighed. Only four more hours on dry land; then he\u2019d have the kid safely on board a ship all the way to . . . Acapulco. Another big sigh greeted the thought of the only stop made on this run. He\u2019d already heard from George how the pretty se\u00f1oritas had manipulated his brother there! They could be as dangerous as alligators, in their way, so he\u2019d be forced to keep an eye on Joe during the brief stopover. Thank goodness, they wouldn\u2019t also be stopping at Manzanillo this trip, as he had on the way down. Guarding the kid from pretty se\u00f1oritas in two South American hamlets was tempting fate, and fate was one thing Adam had learned not to tempt where Joe was concerned.<\/p>\n He simply wanted to deliver the kid, alive and unattached, to their father. Then he remembered he had to get Joe safely through San Francisco, with its Barbary Coast, first, and another huge sigh escaped his lips. Imagining the possibilities for a reckless kid in that haven of cutthroats distracted Adam until he almost missed the departure of the train himself. He deliberately took a seat a few rows behind his brother, where he could keep him in view without escalating the tension between them. Besides, this way he could exit first and make sure that Joe didn\u2019t miss the ferry that would take them to that nice, safe ship waiting in the harbor.<\/p>\n Mrs. Davis and her two little wretches boarded even later. As she bustled them down the aisle, Adam caught only a word or two of the scolding she was giving them, but unfortunately, one of those words was \u201cCartwright.\u201d Seeing one boy\u2019s trousers coated in the same muck as Joe\u2019s, he put two and two together and came up with five. Good grief! Wasn\u2019t it enough that Joe had endangered himself without involving that child? It was unconscionable!<\/p>\n Feeling his anger rise, Adam took a deep breath and reminded himself that it might not be the way it looked. Perhaps Joe hadn\u2019t taken the boy into the swamp, but only been followed into it. After all, those two rapscallions followed his brother everywhere, like tail-wagging puppies. Adam himself had been pulled into enough crazy situations by Joe to give his brother some benefit of the doubt. And if it were unmerited, he could probably rely on the mother to keep the trio of miscreants apart.<\/p>\n As the train began to roll, he settled back to enjoy the jungle scenery, which was majestically lush and refreshing after days on the open sea. They soon crossed the narrow channel separating the marshy island on which Aspinwall was built from the mainland and then ran along the left bank of the Chagres River. Here and there distant glimpses of misty mountains provided relief from the dense acres with varied shades of green, as did the blooms of crimson, purple, orange, blue, pink and white, a veritable kaleidoscope of color. Few birds could be seen, perhaps having been frightened away by the noise of the iron horse, but occasionally Adam caught the sweet, resonant whistle of a turpiale or the harsh cry of a parrot.<\/p>\n About three miles out of town, the track crossed the Mindee, a small, sluggish stream lined with slim spears of bamboo. However, also on the bank lay a group of alligators, which only served to remind Adam of his brother\u2019s reckless behavior back in town, and his mouth drew into a taut line. There really was no excuse. Joe should have known better, and when Adam thought of what could have happened, he felt a distinct urge to turn the kid across his knee, half-grown or not. It didn\u2019t help that he could hear his little brother\u2019s distinctive jaybird laugh, echoing down the rows of seats between them, proving that Joe hadn\u2019t taken the whole affair with half the seriousness he should. In a generous mood, Adam might have called his brother irrepressible; today, he was more inclined toward Madeleine Pontpier\u2019s oft-applied description\u2014incorrigible. And irritating, to boot.<\/p>\n The views out the train windows became even more pleasing, the terrain as luxurious and smooth as green velvet carpet along the base of steep hills rising from the eastern side of the valley. Once they passed Lion Hill Station, the growth became less dense and more aquatic with large patches of cane brake, huge tree ferns and scrubby mangroves rising from dark swamps along the roadway. Along the track grew some plant with lavish blossoms of feathery pink. At times like that, Little Joe wished that he and Adam were on better terms, for surely his brother could tell him what kind of plant it was, as well as the occasional exotic animal he glimpsed along the way. The twins were full of questions about those, but Little Joe could only shrug and admit he didn\u2019t know and hope his honesty didn\u2019t knock him down too many pegs in his worshippers\u2019 eyes.<\/p>\n Every four miles or so they passed a station, but this express train never stopped. Shortly before the halfway point in the journey, the porter passed through the car, collecting tickets. Adam had two ready for him and pointed out his brother to the man. Joe, however, didn\u2019t see that and panicked when he saw Mrs. Davis hand over tickets for her and her boys. \u201cI don\u2019t have . . .\u201d he began.<\/p>\n \u201cAlready taken care of, sir,\u201d the porter said and proceeded up the aisle.<\/p>\n \u201cWho took care of it, Mr. Joe?\u201d asked Matthew.<\/p>\n \u201cMy brother,\u201d Joe said. \u201cThat\u2019s what older brothers do, you know.\u201d He turned and grinned back at Adam.<\/p>\n \u201cI know,\u201d the boy said, squaring his shoulders as if in preparation for the weight of the world those two extra minutes of life had placed on him.<\/p>\n It was comical, of course, but it touched a sweet place inside Joe, as he remembered the many times his older brother had taken care of him without being asked and sometimes, he sheepishly admitted, without even being wanted or appreciated. He\u2019d try to remember to tell Adam this time.<\/p>\n Then, a sudden commotion in the car in front of theirs usurped all else in his thoughts. It sounded as if a fight had broken out, and of course, Little Joe\u2019s first instinct was to charge forward to see what was happening and, if needed, intervene. Adam\u2019s instincts, however, had kicked in even faster, and he was up the aisle, grabbing his brother\u2019s elbow just as Joe managed to untangle himself from the twins, one of whom had been in his lap, while the other leaned across him for a better view out the window. \u201cStay out of it,\u201d Adam hissed.<\/p>\n \u201cSomeone might need help, Adam,\u201d Little Joe protested, jerking his arm free.<\/p>\n \u201cThat someone will be you if you don\u2019t keep your seat,\u201d Adam said through gritted teeth.<\/p>\n \u201cAw, come on, Adam!\u201d<\/p>\n Adam shook his head firmly. \u201cI will look into it. You look after the two leeches.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe started to protest that description, but then realizing he did have a responsibility to the two boys, he exhaled with exasperation and slumped into his seat.<\/p>\n Welcome to my world, little brother<\/em>, Adam thought as he continued up the aisle. He heard a bell ring, but didn\u2019t realize what it meant until the train jerked to an abrupt stop and he was thrown to the left. He almost landed in another passenger\u2019s lap, but grabbing onto the seat, he stopped himself just in time.<\/p>\n Shouting his brother\u2019s name, Little Joe jumped up and tried to crawl over Matt to get to the aisle.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d Adam shouted back at his brother. \u201cStay put!\u201d<\/p>\n Feeling he was being treated as a child, Little Joe fumed, but sat down. He\u2019d have had a hard time getting out, anyway, he consoled himself, with both boys clinging like\u2014well, like leeches, he was forced to admit, much as it chafed him to admit Adam was right.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you all right, sir?\u201d asked the passenger beside Adam, a gentleman of about forty-five years.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d Adam said again.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy do you suppose we stopped so suddenly?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll try to find out,\u201d Adam said. \u201cSorry for our near collision, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo trouble at all,\u201d he was assured just before he again headed for the door between cars. Even before he opened it, he could hear that the commotion in that car had turned into a regular fracas, if not an outright brawl. Probably none of his concern, but if he didn\u2019t investigate, he knew his little brother would. This, too, I must do for<\/em> you<\/em>, he mused with a half-smile at the singsong phrasing of that thought.<\/p>\n His lips settled into a straight, taut line as he went through the doorway into pandemonium. He started to follow the advice he\u2019d given Joe and back out the way he\u2019d come, but suddenly realized that the conductor was under assault by a number of steerage passengers, or so he assumed from the roughness of their dress. He waded into the fist-flinging crowd, dodging them when he could and taking blows when he couldn\u2019t, but he finally reached the man, and they stood back to back to fight the assailants. The conductor obviously wasn\u2019t a hardened fighter, but Adam was, and they slowly beat back the irate passengers. Then, more help arrived, although it wasn\u2019t help Adam particularly wanted, when Little Joe burst through the door and threw himself into the fray. They were making headway, but the tide turned as two other rail employees, coming from the forward car, joined the battle.<\/p>\n \u201cWho\u2019s the culprit?\u201d the brakeman demanded with a dark look.<\/p>\n \u201cThis man,\u201d the conductor said, pointing as he paused to catch his breath. \u201cPut him off the train.\u201d<\/p>\n As the brakeman took hold of the man and started to wrestle him down the aisle, Little Joe joined the shouting protests of the other passengers. \u201cWait! You can\u2019t do that!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShut up, Joe,\u201d Adam ordered.<\/p>\n Joe turned, instead, to the conductor. \u201cYou can\u2019t do that,\u201d he said again. \u201cYou can\u2019t put him out in the middle of nowhere.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s less than a mile to the station,\u201d the conductor said. \u201cHe can walk, as I\u2019d advise you gentlemen to do\u2014back to your own car. This affair is none of your concern.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I\u2019m making it\u201d\u2014Joe\u2019s hot words were cut off by his brother\u2019s tight grip on his biceps.<\/p>\n \u201cSince you have the affair well in hand, sir, we\u2019ll do just that,\u201d Adam said, \u201cbut might I ask what the man did to merit being escorted off the train?\u201d<\/p>\n For a second the conductor looked insulted. Then he remembered that this was the man who had come to his aid, the man without whom he might have been seriously injured before help from other trainmen could come. \u201cHe failed to produce a ticket,\u201d he said. \u201cTried to say it was in his luggage, but it\u2019s more likely he was a stowaway on the ship and planned to do the same on the connecting one. It happens all the time, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI see,\u201d Adam said. \u201cWell, we\u2019ll leave it to you, then.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s best, sir, but I do thank you for your help.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re welcome. Come along, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut, Adam,\u201d the younger boy protested.<\/p>\n The grip on his arm tightened like a vise. \u201cCome along, Joe,\u201d he repeated tersely.<\/p>\n He hadn\u2019t said, \u201cNo argument,\u201d but Joe clearly heard it. Though his face reddened, and he was all but blowing smoke out of every orifice in his head, he let himself be led\u2014dragged was more like it\u2014down the aisle and through the door into their own car.<\/p>\n Not until they were inside did Adam loosen his grip. Then Little Joe spun on him. \u201cHow could you let \u2018em do that, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam arched his left eyebrow. \u201cHow did you propose I stop them?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJust . . . do it!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, that\u2019s helpful,\u201d Adam said dryly.<\/p>\n The passenger with whom he\u2019d nearly collided earlier called out, \u201cPlease, sir, what was the trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n The whole car was all ears. \u201cStowaway,\u201d Adam said laconically. \u201cEjected from the train.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe don\u2019t know that!\u201d Little Joe protested.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I think we do,\u201d his brother replied, \u201cbut even if his preposterous story were true, there\u2019s nothing we could do for him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe could buy him a ticket.\u201d<\/p>\n The eyebrow arched higher this time. \u201cMeaning I could, I suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n At the sudden realization that he didn\u2019t have an extra $25 in his pocket, a suddenly subdued Joe could only say, \u201cYeah, I guess so.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd when he can\u2019t produce a ticket for the steamship, do you want me to foot the bill for that, too, or just turn a blind eye while he sneaks on board?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat if he isn\u2019t a stowaway? Accused ain\u2019t the same thing as convicted, Adam,\u201d Little Joe threw at him.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Adam admitted, \u201cbut my instinct tells me the conductor was right.\u201d Embarrassed at having this conversation before an audience full of itching ears, he leaned close and said, \u201cNow, take your seat, boy, or I might be tempted to have them put you off the train!\u201d Collecting his dignity, he smiled at his fellow passengers to assure them all was well and made his way back to his seat as the train finally started up again.<\/p>\n Glaring eyes followed him down the aisle, but Little Joe dropped into the seat beside his two little friends and blew out his frustration in a lip-vibrating gust. He knew Adam would never carry out the threat to toss him off the train, but it had been said, and Joe was mad\u2014again. Seemed like he and Adam had been that way with each other, off and on, since Boston. At the moment Joe didn\u2019t care whose fault it was this time.<\/p>\n Matthew tapped his hand tentatively. \u201cIs the man gonna be all right, Mr. Joe?\u201d he asked, almost whimpering with fear. \u201cWhat if the alligators get him?\u201d<\/p>\n The same thought had crossed Joe\u2019s mind, but he quickly said, \u201cNaw, he\u2019ll be all right, Matt. He can follow the train down the tracks. That\u2019ll keep him out of the gators\u2019 reach.\u201d He\u2019d just that minute thought of it, but realized it was probably right.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, sure,\u201d Matt said, relieved. If Mr. Joe said it, it must be true.<\/p>\n The train soon crossed the rapid current of the Chagres River over a long iron bridge and headed for the summit. They passed the train going the other way, which had stopped to let them by, while they rode on unhindered. When they reached the high point at Culebra, the train made its only scheduled stop, to take on water for the steam engine. Several of the passengers got off to walk around to stretch their legs, and the twins at once began to yammer to do the same.<\/p>\n \u201cAsk your mother,\u201d Little Joe said.<\/p>\n They scrambled across the aisle and commenced whining and pleading. Joe grinned at her and said, \u201cI\u2019ll see to \u2018em, ma\u2019am, if you\u2019re willing.\u201d<\/p>\n She laughed lightly. \u201cGo ahead, if you can stand the racket, Mr. Cartwright. Goodness knows, I can use a few minutes of peace and quiet.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, then, boys,\u201d Little Joe said, feigning the need to cover his ears when they whooped in delight. When he turned to get his hat, though, the boys rushed down the aisle and out the door. Chuckling, he took his time and followed at a more leisurely pace. In the world of big-brother responsibilities, of course, that was a mistake. He couldn\u2019t see the boys when he exited the train, but it was easy to hear them, shouting their freedom aloud to the world. Little Joe\u2019s eyes followed the sound, and he stifled a curse when he saw where they were. The little dickens! Why did they always have to run to the exact spot they should have avoided like the plaque? He took off at a trot, alternately yelling each boy\u2019s name. They weren\u2019t listening.<\/p>\n He stopped at the edge of a field and blew out some of the steam he felt building. Last thing he wanted was to go into the tall grass, which could hold . . . well, anything, but he couldn\u2019t leave the boys there, either. At least, it didn\u2019t appear to be a swamp; the ground was too stable for that. He took a deep breath, and since they still hadn\u2019t stopped, he, too, started running. \u201cHey, I\u2019m not playing!\u201d he yelled when they darted almost within reach and then dashed away. \u201cYou get back here!\u201d<\/p>\n They kept up the game of tag or chase or whatever they fancied it to be, getting bolder with each foray, and just as Little Joe had figured, one of them finally came close enough to grab. \u201cAw, shucks,\u201d Mark said. \u201cAm I \u2018it\u2019 now?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNope,\u201d said Little Joe. \u201cYou\u2019re my prisoner, kid, and you have to pay a penalty before you can go free.\u201d<\/p>\n Mark\u2019s nose scrunched up. \u201cWhat kind of penalty?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCall your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n Mark\u2019s face lit up. \u201cAnd he takes my place as your prisoner? That\u2019s great.\u201d Without waiting for confirmation of his theory, he yelled to his brother, \u201cHey, Matt! Come help me tackle this giant!\u201d He grinned up at Little Joe. \u201cThat should do it,\u201d he whispered as he grabbed hold of Joe and pretended to wrestle him.<\/p>\n \u201cUh-huh,\u201d Little Joe said. He was taking nothing for granted where these two were concerned.<\/p>\n Matt fell for the lure and came running, pummeling Little Joe\u2019s midriff, though not hard since he truly believed it was a game.<\/p>\n Little Joe grabbed him up and lifted him off the ground, and screaming in frustration, Matt squirmed to get down. Joe held tight both to him and his brother.<\/p>\n \u201cI got him for you,\u201d Mark said. \u201cYou\u2019re s\u2019posed to let me go.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho says you make the rules?\u201d Little Joe turned and started to walk out of the grass. Then he yelped, \u201cOuch! What have you crazy critters picked up?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t . . . ouch!\u201d yelped Matt, soon followed by a similar cry from Mark. \u201cSomethin\u2019s bitin\u2019 me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAw, stinkin\u2019 on it!\u201d Little Joe cried. \u201cYou\u2019ve got into a nest of wood ticks. Now, we\u2019re in for it.\u201d<\/p>\n Both boys started to bellow and Little Joe ran faster, as if he could outrun the sound, impossible since he was carrying it with him. Once he got out of the grass, he set the boys down and started pulling the ticks off them. The ticks didn\u2019t want to turn loose, of course, and the boys screeched with each one pulled off. Before Joe could finish the job, however, the train whistle blew, indicated its departure, and he told them to run for the train.<\/p>\n \u201cWe can\u2019t take ticks on there,\u201d Matt protested.<\/p>\n \u201cRun!\u201d Little Joe ordered, and they did, with Joe close on their heels. They ran into the car at the last minute, and the boys ran, whining, straight to their mother.<\/p>\n \u201cMercy sakes, what have you boys gotten yourselves into now?\u201d she asked, shaking her head.<\/p>\n \u201cTicks, Ma,\u201d wailed Matt, echoed by Mark.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, mercy, you\u2019re crawling with them,\u201d she cried. \u201cWhat am I going to do with the two of you?\u201d The lady in the row behind them hastily got up and moved.<\/p>\n \u201cGet \u2018em off,\u201d Mark whimpered. \u201cIt hurts, Ma!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cServe you right if I just let it,\u201d she said, perturbed, but nonetheless going to work on him.<\/p>\n \u201cYou want me to see to Matt, Mrs. Davis?\u201d Little Joe offered.<\/p>\n She looked up and gave him a weak smile. \u201cDon\u2019t you need to see to yourself, Mr. Cartwright? These boys of mine have been nothing but trouble to you all day, and I don\u2019t doubt they shared a few of their little friends with you, too.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe tried to laugh, but he winced as he felt one of the \u201clittle friends\u201d take hold of him. \u201cNothin\u2019 but trouble, ma\u2019am,\u201d he agreed, \u201cbut I\u2019m kind of used to trouble. I\u2019ll sort Matt out . . . and then I\u2019ll sort me out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d be obliged,\u201d she said warmly. \u201cYou\u2019re a pure angel, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe did laugh, then. \u201cFallen one, my brother would say. Come on, Matt; let\u2019s get those bugs off you.\u201d He led the boy across the aisle and began to pick the ticks off him and toss them out the window.<\/p>\n Further back in the car, Adam wagged his head from side to side, as he made clucking noises of disapproval. He wasn\u2019t sure what sort of devilment Joe and his motley miscreants had gotten up to, and he didn\u2019t think he wanted to know. He turned his attention back to his book, wondering if he\u2019d be asked to read to the other passengers. A new ship, a new captain\u2014it wasn\u2019t guaranteed, but it was likely someone would mention it, so he might as well be prepared.<\/p>\n The train began to descend, and the scenery became more striking with each mile. Just one mile past the summit Adam looked up from his book and smiled at the imposing cliff of basalt, its giant crystals nearly a foot in diameter and eight to twelve feet long, jutting from the landscape at a 40-degree angle. Through the open window he could hear the roar of Panama\u2019s Rio Grande, as it looped through the thick forest far below the tracks, and he saw cone-shaped mountains among the irregular ridges the curving road took them past. He tried to go back to his book, but how could he read when there was so much to see? He\u2019d seen it before, of course, but not from this direction, and so he saw it through fresh eyes.<\/p>\n The road continued to descend into an area populated with groves of coconut and palm trees. Through them Adam could see ancient forts, now dilapidated, and the ruined towers of an old cathedral. Oh, for the time to stay over and visit those architectural wonders! But the steamship would be loading as soon as they arrived, so he wasn\u2019t free to indulge his interest. Looking ahead, he viewed the bare top of Mount Ancon and knew they were close to their destination. Minutes later, they passed Rio Grande Station, the last on the line, surrounded by native huts and fields of pastureland, dotted with cattle, and within a mile the long, metal roofs of the rail terminus came into view.<\/p>\n The beautiful Bay of Panama then opened before his eyes, but Adam had no time to enjoy it. He began to gather up his belongings so he could exit quickly and make sure his errant little brother made it safely\u2014and on time\u2014to the ship that was awaiting their arrival. His first instinct was to rush forward, grab Joe by the arm and escort him\u2014kicking and screaming, no doubt\u2014to the boat. The kicking and screaming part stopped him, not quite in his tracks, but enough to make him take a look at what his brother was actually doing. After all the friction they\u2019d had of late, that was probably a wise course. And what Joe was doing wasn\u2019t bad at all; in fact, it had possibilities of being actively good.<\/p>\n Joe was still ahead of him, but he was walking beside the Davis woman, carrying one of her boys, while the other held tight to his hand. And they were headed straight for the landing. Good boy! Feeling like the proud owner of a puppy who\u2019d finally sat when he was told to sit, Adam grinned at the analogy and relaxed, while maintaining a watchful eye. This particular puppy had a propensity for starting out on the straight and narrow and ending up in unimaginable predicaments. This time, however, he ended up just where he should, aboard the Tabogo<\/em>, bound for their new ship, the Golden Dream<\/em>, anchored some three miles off shore. I suppose I<\/em> should<\/em> commend<\/em> him<\/em>, Adam thought, but he\u2019d probably think it more insult than compliment.<\/em><\/p>\n Since Joe was safely on the first tugboat to the ship, Adam realized he had a little time to spare and decided to indulge in a luxury he hadn\u2019t been able to afford on his eastward journey. Then he\u2019d been forced to take a later boat to avoid a certain manhunter who had set her unattractive eye on him, but now, so long as he watched the time, he could take a brief look around Panama City, and he was keenly interested in the architecture. The temptation proved too strong to resist.<\/p>\n He strolled about the town of 10,000 or less, enjoying the stuccoed two- and even three-story houses that were common. Built of stone, occasionally mixed with brick, they were roofed with the concave-convex tiles typical of the Spanish architecture he\u2019d seen in California. The roofs projected over balconies that hung above narrow sidewalks, while the balconies themselves were filled with flower boxes, monkeys and parrots. Windows were rare. Instead, both on the street level and the balconies were wide double doors and scattered over the walls were star-shaped holes to ventilate the homes. Not practical in the Sierras, of course, but they seemed perfect for a tropical climate. Most of the lower floors held businesses, while Adam assumed the upper ones served as living quarters.<\/p>\n He started to head back to the boat dock, but then he saw the cathedral on the west side of the plaza and had to take a quick look. On each side of the stonework main structure, as he stood before it, gazing upward, twin towers stretched to the sky. Their weather-beaten stucco received extra luminance from the pearl oyster shells speckling their surface, and Adam found it beautiful. He was charmed by the sound of the bells that began to ring in each tower, though he could see no reason for it. It wasn\u2019t Sunday, after all, and this would have been a strange hour for services, at any rate. He checked his watch to verify the time, still out of simple curiosity, and then panic suddenly propelled him across the plaza toward the dock. After all his concern about Joe, he was the one about to miss the last tugboat!<\/p>\n They were just pulling up the gangplank as he ran up to the ship. \u201cWait! One more!\u201d he cried, and the board was lowered into place again.<\/p>\n \u201cCutting it fine, sir,\u201d one of the crew said.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I\u2019m sorry,\u201d Adam said, panting. \u201cLost in the landscape.\u201d<\/p>\n The crewman shrugged. \u201cIt happens.\u201d<\/p>\n All things considered, it was a more generous response than Adam felt he was due. And considerably more generous than the one he received from his little brother, who stood at the rail of the Golden<\/em> Dream<\/em>, his head wagging in disapproval. Adam could say nothing, of course, for he knew he deserved it, but it was decidedly unpleasant to have the shoe on the other foot when it came to brotherly reproach.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n As soon as he finished supper, Little Joe hurried up on deck. It had become his practice since boarding the Golden Dream<\/em>, a name he thought perfect for a ship headed for San Francisco. And the ship seemed perfect in almost every other way, too. It was older, less fancy than most of the others he\u2019d traveled in, but it rated better than the California, the old tub he and George had taken from San Francisco, and better than the fancy ones, too. At least, in his eyes. Probably not in Adam\u2019s. He figured his brother might miss the amenities of the larger ships they\u2019d traveled along the eastern seaboard, but he didn\u2019t. Who needs a barber aboard ship? he thought as he ran his fingers through his lengthening chestnut locks. Plenty of time to get shorn like a sheep, once he got to San Francisco, and if they were pressed for time, it wouldn\u2019t matter. Pa might scold, but he\u2019d be so happy to have them home for Christmas he\u2019d probably let it ride until the New Year.<\/p>\n Of course, Little Joe didn\u2019t really know what Adam thought about the Golden Dream<\/em> or anything else, \u2018cause they still weren\u2019t talking much. Almost missing the tugboat to their new ship had given his big brother a spark of humility\u2014much needed, in Joe\u2019s opinion\u2014and Adam hadn\u2019t given out any criticism in the week since they\u2019d left Panama City. Maybe he was scared he\u2019d get some back if he did. And not without reason, Little Joe acknowledged with a cocky grin, but so far, he\u2019d restrained himself\u2014well, mostly. It was awfully satisfying to be one up on Adam for a change.<\/p>\n He finally spied the light in the distance that he\u2019d been looking for and felt a ripple of excitement rush through him. Acapulco! Halfway between Panama and San Francisco, so it made home feel close. Besides, Little Joe had rather fond memories of the town and its pretty se\u00f1oritas. Oh, sure, one of them had taken him for two bits when he\u2019d had little to spare, but by comparison he was flush now. He\u2019d gladly pay the price for one of their flower garlands, maybe two, for the chance of getting a little better acquainted.<\/p>\n He\u2019d had plenty of female attention on the voyage out, moonlight promenades and heart-fluttering kisses, but precious little on the return. There just weren\u2019t many females going west this time of year, and those that were weren\u2019t his type\u2014by about thirty years. He was ready to chase a few skirts, and in Acapulco a man didn\u2019t even have to chase \u2018em. They came to him, swishing their skirts in his face. Add to that, the ship was arriving in the evening this time, and while it probably would too early for a stroll in the moonlight with a se\u00f1orita on each arm, the evening shadows would definitely set the atmosphere and, perhaps, offer the opportunity for a stolen kiss or two. Maybe more. He almost panted in anticipation.<\/p>\n The lighthouse continued to guide them toward the channel into the bay, and four bells sounded just as they entered the harbor. Six o\u2019clock, Little Joe calculated, translating the signal into landlubber time. Perfect. He\u2019d have an hour to entertain the sweet se\u00f1oritas, while the ship took on coal and provisions, and be back on board for tea time, though he expected to feast on so many kisses that he had no appetite.<\/p>\n \u201cYou can forget it,\u201d Adam said, as he came up behind his brother.<\/p>\n Little Joe spun around. \u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour plan for amorous adventures in Acapulco,\u201d Adam replied with a smirk. \u201cThere won\u2019t be any.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe stared at him, once again amazed at his brother\u2019s ability to read minds. How did he accomplish it, time after time? Nonetheless, he decided to brazen it out. \u201cWhat makes you think I got any planned?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam uttered a sputtering laugh. \u201cYour renowned propensity for folly.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe scowled. He hated it when older brother tossed around twenty-dollar words. They didn\u2019t come to his mind easily, but he knew how to toss cuttings ones, even if they were simpler. \u201cWhat do you care?\u201d he asked, his tone bitter.<\/p>\n Though the words hurt, mostly because Adam knew he hadn\u2019t shown much brotherly care and concern on this voyage, he shrugged in response. \u201cMy concern is for my own hide, younger brother, and the discomfort it will suffer if I show up at home without you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour hide will be just fine,\u201d Little Joe snorted. \u201cI got no intention of missing the boat, so just put your mind at ease.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I know you won\u2019t,\u201d Adam said with a maddening smile, \u201cbecause you and I will be joined at the hip while we\u2019re on shore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAw, come on, Adam,\u201d Little Joe protested. \u201cI\u2019m not the one who needs a keeper.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd what is that supposed to mean?\u201d Adam asked, getting his back up.<\/p>\n \u201cI ain\u2019t the one that almost missed the boat back in Panama City.\u201d Little Joe proved that he, too, knew how to smirk.<\/p>\n Lips pursed, Adam nodded, his suspicions verified. \u201cThat was an aberration,\u201d he said tersely, \u201ccompletely contrary to my standard practice. With you, it\u2019s an established way of life. That is why, much as I would prefer to explore the city on my own, we stay together. And that is my final word, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t Joe\u2019s final word, by any means, nor, of necessity, Adam\u2019s. In the end, however, Adam won, as he tended to do in such skirmishes. Little Joe knew Pa expected him to obey his older brother, and that gave Adam a powerful advantage. A sullen-faced Joe stuck to Adam\u2019s side as they left the ship.<\/p>\n At first, Adam seemed only interested in the native architecture until Little Joe taunted, \u201cDidn\u2019t learn your lesson about that in Panama, older brother?\u201d<\/p>\n Stung, Adam countered, \u201cIt wouldn\u2019t hurt you to absorb a little of the native culture, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I could absorb a lot of it, if you weren\u2019t around,\u201d Little Joe hinted with a suggestive glint in his eyes.<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s dry smile was humorless. \u201cThat is not the culture I was referring to. Now, why don\u2019t you concentrate on the graceful lines of this church?\u201d<\/p>\n Wondering how Adam could possibly prefer that to the graceful curves of a woman, Little Joe shook his head, but stared up at the building, seeming to have resigned himself to an hour of enforced education.<\/p>\n After several long minutes, Adam relented and led his brother to the plaza and bought him an orange from one of the venders. Little Joe instinctively said, \u201cThanks,\u201d Pa\u2019s training kicking in again, but he was glad enough for the treat. Oranges were a rarity back home, although with any luck there\u2019d be one in his Christmas stocking, imported from California. As he sucked the sweet fruit, his attitude seemed to sweeten, as well.<\/p>\n Patting himself on the back for how easily he\u2019d assuaged the pouting child, Adam scanned the row of venders, looking for some small gifts to tuck in stockings back home. He\u2019d just purchased a bag of nuts for Pa when his attention was drawn to a ruckus that had broken out on the opposite side of the plaza. Normally, he would have assumed that Little Joe was in thick of it, drawn toward trouble like filings to a magnet, but thankfully his brother was safe at his side. He wouldn\u2019t, of course, be foolish enough to voice that thought to Joe, but he couldn\u2019t resist turning to the kid with a brother-knew-best smile on his face . . . which quickly evaporated. Joe was nowhere to be seen.<\/p>\n ***** Adam, meanwhile, was frantically searching the plaza for his prodigal brother on the assumption that Joe couldn\u2019t get far in the short time he\u2019d had. That had obviously been a mistake, he realized as his temperature rose. The kid always had moved with jackrabbit speed, and Adam cursed his stupidity in not remembering that in time\u2014and in not tethering the rabbit to his side with a sturdy rope, in lieu of the handcuffs he had neglected to purchase before boarding the ship back in New York City. Leaving the plaza, he began to scour the side streets and alleys.<\/p>\n A signal shot fired to warn passengers of the ship\u2019s imminent departure. Knowing that he had 30 minutes left, Adam consulted his watch and marked the time. Brother or no brother, he, at least, would be on that ship. Let Joe rot in Mexico for all he cared! The kid deserved it. He continued to search, pulling out the watch at brief intervals, until it showed only eight minutes to spare. Then, reluctantly, he made his way to the Golden Dream<\/em>, looking over his shoulder every few steps. He never saw his brother, of course. That would have made life too simple.<\/p>\n Little Joe, too, had heard the signal and understood what it meant, that he\u2019d have to start thinking about ending what Adam had called \u201chis amorous adventure\u201d\u2014soon . . . but not . . . just . . . yet.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n \u201cYou can\u2019t leave. My brother\u2019s not on board yet.\u201d Adam tried to keep his voice calm, reasoning, though he himself was long past reason.<\/p>\n \u201cThe U.S. Mail can\u2019t be delayed because your brother can\u2019t keep track of the time,\u201d the officer stated bluntly. \u201cI\u2019ll wait another ten minutes. After that, he\u2019ll have to find accommodations in town and wait for the next ship . . . if there\u2019s room on board.\u201d<\/p>\n Throwing up his hands as the man stalked away, Adam wondered whether Joe even had funds for accommodations. Probably not. He suspected his brother had spent most of his money for Christmas presents. Generous, of course, but it made no provision for emergencies. He puffed out a derisive breath. When had Joe ever made provision for emergencies? He depended on others to get him out the scrapes he habitually fell into, and Adam supposed it would be no different today. He might have told himself he didn\u2019t care if the kid rotted in Mexico, but he couldn\u2019t leave him to that fate, however deserved. And he couldn\u2019t blame his capitulation on fear of Pa\u2019s reaction, either, because that wasn\u2019t really the reason; as furious as he was with the kid, Adam felt a strong duty of care.<\/p>\n Well, there was no help for it. He\u2019d have to debark himself and hope the next ship had two spaces available. The Golden Dream<\/em> wasn\u2019t full, winter not being a favored season for pleasure trips, and that next ship probably wouldn\u2019t be, either. There was no time to offload their steamer trunks, but he could, at least, throw a few things in their carpetbags. Since he had less than ten minutes to pack and get to shore, he took the stairs at a run.<\/p>\n Punctual, as always, Adam made it back on deck just as they were pulling up the gangplank. \u201cOne moment,\u201d he called to the officer in charge.<\/p>\n The man hitched in a perturbed breath, and then said, \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Mr. Cartwright, but we cannot wait.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen let me off,\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you sure, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam shook his head, but contradicted the signal by saying, \u201cI can\u2019t leave him. Please let me off.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cVery good, sir.\u201d The officer gave the order to put the gangplank back in place, and as Adam stepped onto it, he offered more congenially, \u201cGood luck, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam was nodding his acknowledgement of the sentiment when another shout was heard: \u201cHey, wait!\u201d He turned and there was Joe, charging toward the ship. Adam gasped with relief. \u201cIt\u2019s him,\u201d he told the officer.<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d the man said. \u201cFor your sake, I\u2019m glad, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam winced. The officer, out of courtesy to a passenger, hadn\u2019t said anything more about the delay, but he\u2019d felt the coolness. It fueled the opposite reaction in him. It started a slow burn in him\u2014well, no, not slow at all. By the time Little Joe ran up the gangplank and sprang on deck, Adam was a steam boiler, about to blow.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, brother!\u201d Little Joe said, grinning, looking highly pleased with himself. \u201cGuess we got separated in the crowd.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd not by accident,\u201d Adam hissed.<\/p>\n Little Joe\u2019s grin broadened. \u201cDid you miss me?\u201d Then he spotted the carpetbag in Adam\u2019s right hand. \u201cHey, Adam, why you totin\u2019 that?\u201d And then he saw the bag in his brother\u2019s other hand, and with a puzzled look, he asked, \u201cAnd what are you doin\u2019 with my carpetbag?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI was getting off the ship to look for you,\u201d Adam growled.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat for? I knew where I was.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I didn\u2019t! And they were going to leave without you!\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe looked nonplused. \u201cOh? Was I late?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam dropped the bags and moved toward his brother.<\/p>\n \u201cAw, come on, Adam,\u201d Little Joe said, backing up. \u201cThey were just pulling up the gangplank when I came.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWrong,\u201d Adam spat. \u201cThey were lowering it again\u2014for me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh.\u201d Little Joe realized he was in trouble, but decided to brazen it out. \u201cWell, lucky for me they were, huh? But that se\u00f1orita just didn\u2019t want me to go, brother. You know how women are when they take a shine to a man.\u201d He offered Adam a conspiratorial wink, one man to another.<\/p>\n Adam exploded. \u201cA man? You are anything but a man!\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe was shocked into silence for a moment. \u201cYou don\u2019t mean that, Adam.\u201d Seeing the glare in his brother\u2019s eyes, his face hardened. \u201cYou better not mean that.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s gaze narrowed. \u201cYou are a child,\u201d he said slowly, with intent.<\/p>\n Little Joe\u2019s gaze matched Adam\u2019s. \u201cTake it back,\u201d he said tightly.<\/p>\n \u201cHuh! A child\u2019s taunt.\u201d Adam\u2019s mimicked his brother\u2019s words in a high-pitched sing-song. \u201c\u2018Take it back.\u2019 You behaved like a child, an irresponsible, thoughtless child. You deserved to be left to rot in Mexico!\u201d He\u2019d thought it so often, the words came easily, laced with equal parts anger and exasperation.<\/p>\n \u201cThen, why didn\u2019t you?\u201d Little Joe demanded hotly.<\/p>\n Adam snuffled derisively. \u201cFor Pa\u2019s sake, of course. You can scarcely think I\u2019d choose to be saddled with you another day!\u201d Within two days he\u2019d have reason to rue those words, and not just because of the blow his out thrust chin took two seconds later.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Joe was sulking, much to Adam\u2019s embarrassment, for what he had considered a minor blowup, Joe seemed determined to deem a major conflagration. While they hadn\u2019t spoken much before, basically staying out of each other\u2019s way, the silence now, at least on Joe\u2019s part, was weaponized, to the point that those who shared the brothers\u2019 table wondered what had happened to the charming, albeit rather quiet, young man of earlier days. It never occurred to them that what had happened to him was the other charming man at their table, who had uttered the fatal words that stripped away his fledgling manhood and left a petulant child in their wake.<\/p>\n As for Little Joe, he felt perfectly justified in his deteriorating attitude. In the early days of this journey home, he\u2019d felt largely to blame for the differences between him and Adam and tried to make amends. No more. After all, he\u2019d only wanted his brother to stay on the Ponderosa. A decent brother might have been flattered by that, but not Adam, and now Joe didn\u2019t care if he ran back to his Lily Ann as soon as they docked in San Francisco. At least, he told himself he didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n He also told himself that if Adam was gonna treat him like a child, he might as well behave like one, so for the next two days he led the Davis twins on wild romps from port to bow and stem to stern, on deck and below. He did it to annoy Adam, and the granite glares from old Granite Head told him he\u2019d succeeded. At supper that night, however, everything changed.<\/p>\n For once, Little Joe beat Adam to the table and was, as a consequence, quite pleased with himself. How he\u2019d relish throwing that smack in his self-righteous and oh-so-punctual brother\u2019s face! Then he remembered that he wasn\u2019t speaking to Adam and wondered if he might make this one exception, since it would give him such exquisite pleasure.<\/p>\n Adam had gotten caught up in preparing his nightly reading, so he was slightly late in arriving for the evening meal. Passing the captain\u2019s table, he started to greet him when he saw the first mate bend to the captain\u2019s ear and whisper something.<\/p>\n Captain Lawson frowned as he received the message. \u201cNonsense!\u201d he declared. \u201cI don\u2019t believe it.\u201d Despite that declaration, he immediately stood and left the table.<\/p>\n Adam sensed something might be wrong. His first thought was that Joseph Cartwright and those incorrigible twins had gotten up to some mischief, but a quick glance at their table revealed that his brother was already there\u2014and smirking. Narrowing his eyes, he set his jaw and came to his accustomed place. \u201cSorry to be tardy, gentlemen,\u201d he said, pointedly ignoring his brother.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy, you aren\u2019t, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d portly Mr. Albright said. \u201cThey haven\u2019t begun serving yet, after all. I do hope you have an exciting chapter for us this evening.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cQuite exciting,\u201d Adam said with a gracious smile as he took his seat, never dreaming that the evening was about to get more exciting than anything in the pages he planned to read.<\/p>\n They all ordered their supper selections and began to chat amiably as they waited. Fifteen minutes passed, slowly for Little Joe, since he wasn\u2019t participating in the conversation. After all, it was mostly about Adam and the wonderful entertainment he was providing each evening. He\u2019d been proud of his brother\u2019s prowess before; now, hearing the praise was an irritant, without, as yet, the benefit of a good meal to distract him.<\/p>\n However, Little Joe was not the first to complain about the tardiness of the service. That honor fell to the true gourmet at their table. \u201cI say,\u201d a perturbed-looking Mr. Albright asked, \u201cwhat is keeping the food? It\u2019s never been this late before.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, it hasn\u2019t,\u201d Adam agreed. He\u2019d been enjoying the conversation too much to notice, but the man was right. And then he noticed something more disturbing: Captain Lawson had not returned to the dining area. With sudden intuition Adam sensed that the \u201cnonsense\u201d the captain had refused to believe had proven all too real and was the underlying cause of the disruption of their dinner. \u201cExcuse me, gentlemen,\u201d he said. \u201cI believe I\u2019ll try to find out what\u2019s holding up our supper.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGive them a piece of my mind, as well,\u201d Albright declared.<\/p>\n Adam nodded, more a gesture of dismissal than agreement. He paused briefly and glanced at his brother, opened his mouth and then shut it again. What, after all, could he say to Joe? He didn\u2019t know anything yet; he merely felt an uneasiness. He turned and walked away.<\/p>\n Little Joe saw the glance, but it was the troubled look in his brother\u2019s eye that sent a shiver up his spine. Then, he saw Adam go, not toward the galley, from which food was delivered, but out to the deck, and he knew something was wrong. He got up and followed his brother.<\/p>\n On deck, pandemonium reigned. Oh, it was a well-ordered pandemonium, but there was no disguising the panic in the eyes of the crew. Adam caught the captain\u2019s arm as he hurried past and asked, \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong? Don\u2019t fear to tell me, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n Captain Lawson at first looked perturbed at the interruption. Then he took note of who had stopped him. Even in the short time he\u2019d been aboard the Golden Dream<\/em>, Mr. Cartwright, the elder, had struck him as a man of sense and composure, so he didn\u2019t hesitate. \u201cThe ship\u2019s on fire, Mr. Cartwright. Since we\u2019re only fifteen miles off Manzanillo, I hope to run her aground, but we may have to abandon her, I\u2019m afraid. I was just on the way to inform the passengers.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow can I help?\u201d Adam asked at once.<\/p>\n Looking into his face, the captain saw the calm acceptance and resolve he had expected from this passenger. \u201cWe\u2019ve formed a bucket brigade. If you wouldn\u2019t mind . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s my life, too, sir,\u201d Adam said. \u201cJust point me in the right direction.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBetween the forward smokestack and the cabin galley,\u201d the captain said. Laying a hand briefly against the other man\u2019s upper arm, he added, \u201cGod bless you, sir.\u201d Then he moved again toward the stairs to the lower deck, meeting the younger Mr. Cartwright as he did. This one\u2019s eyes registered alarm and fear, so he immediately said, \u201cCome below, sir, and all will be explained.\u201d In his haste, he didn\u2019t stop to see if his order had been obeyed, though from what he\u2019d seen of this boy in their five-day acquaintance, he probably should have guessed it wouldn\u2019t be.<\/p>\n Little Joe, instead, went straight toward his brother, but Adam was already heading down the deck. As he\u2019d done hundreds of times on the Ponderosa, Little Joe instinctively followed his older brother, trying to catch up with him. On open land, he probably could have, even given Adam\u2019s longer stride, but his path was clogged with other men, some of whom were doing their best to run the opposite direction. Not bothering to ask any of them what was wrong, Little Joe weaved through them in the wake of the man he could trust to know and tell him what to do.<\/p>\n He never reached Adam. Before he could, he realized the line of men was a bucket brigade, and without prior experience he understood what a fire aboard a wooden vessel meant. He automatically took a place in line, knowing that somewhere up ahead of him, Adam would be doing the same. It was what Cartwrights did.<\/p>\n Both Cartwright brothers worked, handing off a bucket and reaching for another, time after time. They were sturdy young men, used to hard work, except they hadn\u2019t done much of it for the last couple of months, and each could tell the difference the extended days of leisure had made. The heat from the tropical evening, as well as the heat from the growing fire, sapped their strength, as well, and soon sweat poured down their bodies. Since they\u2019d been dressed for dinner when the fire started, they still wore their good suits, but they, along with the few other passengers who were trying to help, soon shed the coats. Only the need for propriety before any ladies that might pass kept their shirts on their backs, and they were soon drenched.<\/p>\n At first, neither could see the flames, but as Adam threw bucket after bucket around the smokestack, he felt the roasting heat and choked on the smoke pouring from the engine room hatchway. Finally, the men in that area could bear no more and gave up, knowing the ship was lost. The fight now would be to save lives.<\/p>\n The crew fell back in reasonable order, though some pushing and shoving was inevitable. Then they reached the more open part of the deck, clogged with panicked passengers, women weeping and children, according to their bent, either clinging to their mothers or\u2014well, running amok would have been Adam\u2019s description, had he had time to deal with them. He assumed his brother, who would have still been in the dining room when the order came to abandon ship, was somewhere among the crowd. Joe might be young and foolish, but he wouldn\u2019t be like many of the other men aboard, so determined to save some bit of earthly treasure that they lost sight of the true wealth\u2014their very lives.<\/p>\n With disgust, Adam viewed the men thronging the purser, demanding the belabored officer open his safe and give them the money they had checked with him for the duration of the trip. It was impossible, of course. Even had there been time for such foolishness, it would have been impossible. The fire had started too near that area of the ship. No one could reach it now. Adam started to remonstrate with his fellow passengers, to try to make them see reason, but soon gave it up as a hopeless cause. There were others in greater need of his help. Along with members of the crew, he helped the women and children into the lifeboats first and pushed back those men who insisted that position should be theirs. Patiently he devested the passengers of carpetbags and jewel cases. \u201cThere\u2019s no room,\u201d he tried to explain, realizing there weren\u2019t enough launches for all the people. Some protested and clutched their belongings all the more desperately, but most relinquished them almost at once. What did things matter, after all, compared to lives?<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s strong arms were much appreciated as he helped the crewmen lower the boat into the water, for all the men were exhausted from their firefighting efforts. He would never be sure afterwards if their weariness was to blame or whether the passengers had shifted the balance, but as they were lowering the second lifeboat, with cries of terror women, children and the few men who had made it into that load began to spill over the side of the launch into the sea. The boat then broke loose and followed them into the waves.<\/p>\n Hurriedly, Adam took off his shoes and started to climb the railing. Before he could dive in, however, a sailor jumped into the water to right the boat and help the people reload. Adam stepped down to the deck and without bothering to put his shoes back on, helped move the third launch into place and began to load it, mostly with men this time, since so few women were traveling during the winter season.<\/p>\n Everything was noise and confusion until he had no time to think, except for a single, imperative question: where was Joe? He would not, of course, have been among those who pushed women aside to board early. Young as he was, he was built of better stuff than those cowards. There were other launch points, further down the deck, and in the brief time he could spare to think, Adam decided his brother must be at one of them, either waiting his turn for a boat or, more likely, helping others to board. He felt a moment\u2019s pride; then the urgency of the next moment drove all else but loading people from his mind.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Little Joe was, indeed, down the line at another launch station. He spotted Adam just once, before one of the men he\u2019d worked beside in the bucket brigade asked him to help load passengers, and he\u2019d gladly done so. After all the friction between them, it was almost as if he and Adam were working together again. Almost.<\/p>\n He was helping to load his third boat when he heard a woman screaming. The fact that she was a woman was enough to set off alarm bells, for like the crew working with Adam, this group had also given first place to women and children, most of them going in the first launch. But this woman was screaming a name he knew only too well. He pushed past the men crowding into the launch area, calling, \u201cMrs. Davis!\u201d Some of the male passengers, realizing that a woman was behind them, tried to push her forward, but she pulled back, shouting at them to leave her be. When the men saw Little Joe pressing toward her, they drew back to let him through. If the stripling was determined to push himself into authority over grown men, let him deal with this!<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Mr. Cartwright!\u201d Mrs. Davis, clutching one trembling son to her side, cried as he reached her. \u201cI can\u2019t find Mark anywhere. I only turned my back a minute and he was gone!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s all it takes,\u201d Little Joe said ruefully. Seeing her stricken face, he added, \u201cIt\u2019s not your fault, ma\u2019am; he\u2019s fast, that one. Don\u2019t worry; I\u2019ll find him. Let\u2019s get you and Matt loaded first.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I won\u2019t leave him,\u201d she said, \u201cbut do get Matt aboard.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Mama!\u201d Matt cried. \u201cDon\u2019t leave me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHey, hey, Matt, it\u2019s okay,\u201d Little Joe said, trying to keep his voice calm. \u201cYour mama\u2019s going with you.\u201d<\/p>\n Mrs. Davis lifted a resistant palm to cut off his words. \u201cNo, I . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMa\u2019am, you have to.\u201d Little Joe leaned close to her ear. \u201cThere aren\u2019t enough boats,\u201d he whispered, \u201cand I can find room later for one small boy easier than for the three of you together. I\u2019ll find Mark, but you go now!\u201d He wasn\u2019t accustomed to ordering his elders about, particularly the female variety, but urgency lent authority to his voice.<\/p>\n Shaking all the harder, she nodded and delayed only long enough to say, \u201cOnce again you are our guardian angel, Mr. Cartwright. Thank you!\u201d Then she let herself and Matthew be pushed through the line of men toward the launch as Little Joe began to circle the deck in hope of quickly finding the missing child.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n The boats were packed tight as tins of fish, but there still wasn\u2019t room for all the passengers. There\u2019d been a good bit of pushing and shoving in an attempt to get aboard the last one. Adam saw Mr. Albright, standing back, staring with fear-filled eyes, but not fighting for a place in the boat. He forced his way back to his table-mate and took him by the arm. \u201cI\u2019ll see you get a seat, sir,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, no, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d Albright said. \u201cI\u2019ll\u2014I\u2019ll wait my turn.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Albright, let me be blunt,\u201d Adam said. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t have a chance in the open sea. Those of us who are younger\u201d\u2014and leaner he thought, but did not say it\u2014\u201ccan swim or hold on to the sides of lifeboats. Please, sir, let me find you a place.\u201d<\/p>\n Mr. Albright\u2019s face blanched and he nodded wordlessly. Adam took his arm, using his free one to push his way forward and with the help of the crewmen who\u2019d been working with him all evening, he managed to get the older man into the boat and then worked to lower it into the waiting sea.<\/p>\n Loud and vociferous were the protests of the men left on deck as that final lifeboat, with its meager promise of safety, dropped. \u201cWhy aren\u2019t there more boats?\u201d angry men demanded, and Adam could scarcely blame them. The same question was pounding in his brain. The ship was lightly loaded this trip, and there still hadn\u2019t been enough, proving the Golden Dream<\/em> was woefully unprepared for an emergency of any magnitude.<\/p>\n Captain Lawson, who had long and futilely argued that same need, could offer no explanation, even had there been time. There wasn\u2019t, and he bluntly stated that. \u201cThere\u2019s no choice, gentlemen. If you want to save your lives, dive into the sea and swim for shore. It\u2019s no more than four miles now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut I can\u2019t swim!\u201d one man protested.<\/p>\n The captain closed his eyes briefly. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, sir, but there\u2019s no choice but to go into the sea. Take a life preserver, and if you can possibly reach one of the boats, hang onto the side or some of the floating timber, if that fails.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTimber? Where do you expect me to find timber?\u201d the man demanded.<\/p>\n Captain Lawson sighed. \u201cFrom the ship, sir; there\u2019ll be plenty when she breaks up.\u201d He walked away from the man, who was staring at him, aghast, and repeated the same instructions to everyone he passed, adding, \u201cTake off your shoes, gentlemen, and any extra weight on your persons. Nothing you might try to save is worth your lives.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam was already shoeless, but he somewhat reluctantly unfastened his money belt and let it drop. Most of his money was in the inaccessible purser\u2019s office, anyway, and he was a strong swimmer, but it wasn\u2019t worth the risk. Thunder was beginning to rumble in the west, and a storm would make it hard enough to reach shore without the added weight to pull him down. As other passengers, some under protest, also followed the captain\u2019s order, gold and silver coins rained down on the deck, but Adam barely noticed them. He knew he had mere minutes to get off the blazing ship, but how could he leave until he knew Joe was safe? He ran down the deck, dodging the hot tar that fell as the flames reached the treated rigging.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Little Joe was about ready to wring a kid\u2019s neck. He\u2019d searched the deck, as far as the encroaching fire would let him go and was satisfied that Mark wasn\u2019t up there. He wasted thirty seconds in trying to convince himself that the boy had turned back up while he was searching and had managed to get aboard the last launch. He knew better. It wasn\u2019t the kind of sensible thing an ornery kid would do, and he should know: he\u2019d been one. In Adam\u2019s eyes, he still was. The thought of his brother brought a wry grin to his face, but then his mind turned to the more practical matter of where that confounded kid might have taken himself. Think, Joe<\/em>, he told himself.What would<\/em>\u00a0 you do<\/em>? Almost instantly, he came up with the answer, and with an audible groan, he headed down the stairs.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Cartwright!\u201d The captain practically bellowed his name. \u201cWhy are you still on board? I gave the order to abandon ship!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHave you seen my brother?\u201d Adam asked, anxiously grabbing the captain\u2019s arm.<\/p>\n \u201cNot recently,\u201d Captain Lawson said, \u201cbut I\u2019m sure he\u2019s gone. Everyone is.\u201d It wasn\u2019t quite true; the fire had burned first and hottest toward the rear of the ship, quickly trapping the passengers in steerage. If they hadn\u2019t jumped into the water, they might still be aboard, but no longer alive. Sadly, there\u2019d been no way to reach them, and it weighed on his heart.<\/p>\n Adam stood rooted, babbling his thoughts aloud. \u201cHe\u2019s not on deck, but he wouldn\u2019t stay below, surely.\u201d He kneaded his temple with long, supple fingers. \u201cStill, I can\u2019t be sure.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI saw him on deck at one point,\u201d the captain said. \u201cHe was helping my men load the launches. I\u2019m sure they would have put him in one of the final boats.\u201d Or he dived into the sea<\/em>, he might have added, but didn\u2019t want to draw the brother\u2019s concern to that dire possibility.<\/p>\n \u201cBut you can\u2019t be sure,\u201d Adam argued, though he wanted to believe. It was inconceivable to him that Joe would have left without seeking him out, but then they hadn\u2019t been getting along too well of late. Perhaps Joe hadn\u2019t thought an emergency was the best time to tear down the wall between them.<\/p>\n With a mighty crack, the foremast toppled to the deck and caved it in. Seeing the flames behind him, eating up the deck, Adam gave a crisp nod and climbed out onto the narrow spar, past the foresail, and hung from it as he committed his soul to God and plummeted into the churning surf. A second splash soon followed.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Once below, Little Joe began a room-by-room search of the passengers\u2019 cabins, cursing himself for not learning which one had been assigned to the Davis family. There\u2019d never been any reason, of course. The boys had always gone there under their mother\u2019s charge. He was just exiting one cabin when he saw Mark stumble out of another and yelled his name.<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Joe!\u201d the little boy screamed. Whatever boyish trinket he\u2019d come back for was forgotten in his newly awakened terror. \u201cIt\u2019s gettin\u2019 hot!\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe swallowed down his own fear. \u201cWe\u2019ve got to get out of here, Mark\u2014now!\u201d He heard the fear leaking out and made an effort to calm down. \u201cStay with me, no matter what,\u201d he ordered, holding out his hand.<\/p>\n Mark grabbed it and held tight as Little Joe practically dragged his shorter legs toward the stairs. Black smoke boiled toward them as they came up on the empty deck, and the growing flames forced them forward. Mark started to choke on the fumes. \u201cI . . . can\u2019t . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHush,\u201d Little Joe ordered as he snatched first one shoe and then the other from the boy. \u201cCan you swim?\u201d he asked urgently.<\/p>\n \u201cY-yeah,\u201d said Mark, \u201cbut I\u2019m scared, Mr. Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGot to be brave, buddy,\u201d Joe said, turning out the boy\u2019s pockets. \u201cI\u2019ll be right behind you, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cO-okay.\u201d Mark began to cough as the increasing smoke irritated his lungs.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll toss you out as far as I can,\u201d Little Joe said as he lifted the boy over the railing. \u201cGet to a boat or something floating if you can.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll wait for you,\u201d Mark said, tears in his eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cNo!\u201d Joe said sharply. \u201cStart swimming as soon as you hit the water. This ship\u2019s still moving, and I got no notion which way it\u2019ll turn with no one steering, so get as far as you can, fast as you can. You hear me, Mark?\u201d When the boy nodded, he said, \u201cOkay, here goes. One . . . two . . . three!\u201d On the count of three, he tossed his little friend into the sea, and once he saw him hit the water and start to swim away, Little Joe pulled off his own shoes. He was climbing the railing when the fire reached the steam engines, and as ship exploded, he felt himself being launched upward like one of the rockets Hop Sing liked to fire to celebrate Chinese New Year.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Adam broke the water\u2019s surface to a cascade of ash and cinders. Since the air was charred with the scent of burning wood, he took a deep breath, plunged beneath it again and swam underwater, hard as he could stroke. The ship, badly damaged from the explosion, whose concussion he had felt underwater, was still moving toward shore, and he had to get out of its path. He surfaced again and saw that he was far enough away to relax his pace a little. He was exhausted from his efforts to fight the fire and to see other passengers safely exit the doomed ship, and he needed rest before striking out for shore again. While he was still a good three miles off shore, he stopped to tread water for a while and looked back at the burning hulk. One question blazed in his brain: had Joe made it off? There was only one way to find out, so he again started to swim for shore.<\/p>\n As the sun was sinking on the western horizon, he stumbled onto the beach, collapsed and for a brief spell lay motionless in the sand. At least, he thought it was brief, but the sky seemed darker than he remembered it being when he\u2019d shut his eyes. He clambered to his feet and began walking down the beach, searching among the survivors, asking everyone he passed if they\u2019d seen his brother. His heart grew heavier with every negative response he received.<\/p>\n Finally, he saw Captain Lawson, wading through the surf, helping to shore those who were still struggling through the surf and, sadly, dragging ashore the bodies of those who through physical frailty or the weight of gold and silver they had hoarded had succumbed to the sea. Adam immediately went to his side and began to help him. \u201cI don\u2019t see any of the lifeboats,\u201d he said. \u201cSurely, they didn\u2019t all perish.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPray God, none of them did,\u201d said the captain. \u201cI ordered my men to row straight for Manzanillo, so they wouldn\u2019t be here, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d He looked into his aide\u2019s weary face and added, \u201cThere\u2019s every reason to believe your young brother is among them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Adam said. He didn\u2019t sound convinced, but his tiny spark of hope burned a little brighter.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, that appears to be the last of the swimmers,\u201d Captain Lawson said, a little of the emotion he felt stealing into his controlled voice. \u201cWe\u2019ll wait for morning to bury the dead. Tonight, we focus on the living. Do you have any strength left, Mr. Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf you need it,\u201d Adam said, \u201cI\u2019ll find some, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen see if you can find anything useful to our survival among the wreckage coming ashore, Mr. Cartwright. If my eyes don\u2019t deceive me, that\u2019s a keg of ale over there, and that would certainly be a boon to thirsty men and women!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo women here, are there?\u201d Adam smiled.<\/p>\n \u201cJust one, that I\u2019ve seen,\u201d the captain said with a wry smile back. \u201cDon\u2019t ask me why, but there\u2019s one.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam arched an eyebrow, but this was not the time to ponder the inexplicable. There was still work to be done. \u201cI\u2019ll fetch the keg,\u201d he said. He made his way through the waves sweeping the shore, while the captain continued to scan the incoming wreckage for useful items. \u201cIt\u2019s intact!\u201d he called when he had the keg secured. As he hefted it to his shoulder, he mused that he and the captain should probably take the first taste of what was inside. After all, didn\u2019t the Good Book say the laborer was worthy of his hire?<\/p>\n He had just set the keg on the sand and turned back to the sea to search for more salvage when he shielded his eyes from the setting sun and stared, unable to believe his eyes. \u201cCaptain!\u201d he cried. \u201cOne more!\u201d He pointed out to sea, where someone was clinging to a piece of the old ship\u2019s paddle. Joe? Could it possibly be Joe? He raced through the foaming surf with newfound strength.<\/p>\n He soon realized it wasn\u2019t his little brother. Joe was small for a man, but this person was even smaller, a mere boy, in fact. What was a boy doing out here? Like the solitary woman, he should have been in a lifeboat, but inexplicable as it was, here was a boy. Her son, perhaps? If so, what joy she\u2019d feel when she had him again in her arms, the same revitalizing joy, quickly quashed, that Adam himself had felt moments before. As the water deepened, he began to swim, his strong arms and legs eating the distance between him and the boy floating so precariously between life and death.<\/p>\n When he reached him, he realized the boy was barely sensible, which made it easier and safer, as well, to bring him back to shore. Half-drowned boys, as he knew from the time he\u2019d rescued a floundering Hoss from Lake Washoe, could fight like the dickens when they were scared half to death. Of course, this one, being a fraction of Hoss\u2019s size, had less chance of pulling his rescuer down with him, and for that, Adam was grateful.<\/p>\n Weary himself, he didn\u2019t try to swim the child back to shore, but left him on the floating wood until he reached the shallows. Gathering the boy in his arms, he walked, ill-balanced as a drunken man, onto the beach, where the captain met him and attempted to take the child.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Adam said. \u201cI want . . . to give him . . . to his mother.\u201d Though so spent, it had become important to finish what he had started, to do for another what he wished could be done for him.<\/p>\n Captain Lawson looked puzzled, and then seemed to understand. \u201cThis isn\u2019t her son, Mr. Cartwright. This is one of the Davis boys.\u201d<\/p>\n Jolted, Adam took a closer look at the boy resting in his arms. Was this really one of the hooligans who had terrorized the deck of the Golden<\/em> Dream<\/em>? He looked more like a golden-haired cherub in this state, but then, Little Joe, too, had always looked angelic in his sleep, however much mischief he had gotten into during the day. For the first time of their brief acquaintance, Adam smiled tenderly at the youngster for the sake of that reminder.<\/p>\n \u201cLet me take him, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d the captain offered, \u201cand you get some rest.\u201d He feared the man who had given him so much aid on ship and shore was about to keel over himself.<\/p>\n Recognizing his own weakness, Adam was in the act of the transferring the boy when Mark stirred. \u201cMr. Cartwright?\u201d he whimpered in response to the name the captain had used. Opening his eyes, he looked up with expectancy, but his face quickly deflated with disappointment. \u201cOh, it\u2019s you,\u201d he said. \u201cI thought . . .\u201d Tears began to seep, mixing with the salt water already coating his cheeks.<\/p>\n It hit Adam in a flash. This was his brother\u2019s friend, the one who was always where he shouldn\u2019t be. Wouldn\u2019t he have done the same in an emergency? And wouldn\u2019t Joe have made it his business to protect the little scamp he\u2019d romped with? Suddenly, he knew: they\u2019d been together, and if he\u2019d survived, then surely Joe\u2014his arms tightened around the Davis boy, and he pulled him back from the captain\u2019s arms. \u201cHe knows,\u201d he explained to the clearly confused Captain Lawson. \u201cHe knows where Joe is!\u201d<\/p>\n Adam carried the boy to a more sheltered part of the beach and set him in the sand. He patted his cheeks until Mark appeared attentive. \u201cWhere is the other Mr. Cartwright, boy? He was with you, wasn\u2019t he?\u201d<\/p>\n Mark nodded, and the tears poured even more steadily. \u201cMr. Joe,\u201d he whimpered.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Mr. Joe,\u201d Adam repeated anxiously. \u201cWhere is Mr. Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGone!\u201d wailed Mark.<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s heart sank, but he couldn\u2019t give up, not yet. \u201cGone where?\u201d he asked as he sank to his knees before the child.<\/p>\n Mark shook his head, as if to say he didn\u2019t know; then he choked out, \u201cH-heaven, I guess. He was good enough, leastways to me.\u201d And he began to sob in earnest. \u201cIt\u2019s all my fault,\u201d he cried.<\/p>\n \u201cNow, now, son,\u201d the captain said, bending down to pat the small shoulder. \u201cI\u2019m sure that isn\u2019t so. Can you tell us what happened?\u201d<\/p>\n Through stammering lips Mark told them how Mr. Joe had found him below and brought him up to the deck and told him to swim for shore and thrown him out from the ship. \u201cAnd then . . . and then . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes . . . and then?\u201d Adam pressed him, heart in his throat.<\/p>\n Mark gestured wildly with his hands as he searched for the right words to describe what he\u2019d seen. Failing, he finally said only, \u201cBoom!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDear God,\u201d Adam whispered, blanching whiter than the sand on the pristine beach. \u201cHe was still on board.\u201d Rising, he stumbled through the sand.<\/p>\n Captain Lawson came to his side. \u201cI know it sounds hopeless, but he might have survived, and if he could get to one of the lifeboats or even to some piece of debris . . .\u201d He couldn\u2019t finish, for he knew how slim a thread of hope he could realistically offer. He pressed the other man\u2019s shoulder. \u201cGet some rest, Mr. Cartwright. We have a lot to do in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n Eyes blank, Adam nodded. Mind as blank as his eyes, he had no will to resist as he was led to a place he could lie down. He couldn\u2019t think, wouldn\u2019t let himself think of his baby brother lying in a briny grave. That would come with the morning. From utter exhaustion, he fell into a light and, thankfully, dreamless sleep, knowing he\u2019d wake again to the nightmare all too soon.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Adam woke with the first glow of dawn, and as his drained fellow survivors slept on, he waded through the lapping waves, bare toes curling into the warm sand, and finally faced the ugly truth: Joe was gone. Never again would he see that elfin face as it ran the gamut of every emotion known to man, from mischief to laughter, anger to unbridled joy. His mind fixed on the anger, not Joe\u2019s, but his own. He\u2019d been so angry with his brother, and now for the life of him, he couldn\u2019t have said why. It all seemed so petty now, and most of it was just petty irritation. Except for Lily. Joe hadn\u2019t wanted him to fall in love with Lily, and he\u2019d never understood why. The one time he\u2019d demanded an explanation, Joe hadn\u2019t given a coherent one, and Adam had taken that to mean that the boy had no real reason. Now he wondered, but now he\u2019d never know.<\/p>\n If only he\u2019d been able to read the future. He hadn\u2019t intended to stay angry forever, but he\u2019d thought he had time to indulge the luxury for a few days. He hadn\u2019t. And how he longed for those few days back. Oh, it was Joe\u2019s fault, as much as his own. He knew that, but he was\u2014he\u2019d once been . . . and how his heart exploded at that bombshell change of perspective\u2014the older brother, the one who should have been too mature to squabble with a child. He winced at the hated word, which he\u2019d spewed at Joe with deliberate intent. He\u2019d never use it again, but it was too late to help his brother. Too late, forever, because he\u2019d indulged, just for a few days, in the luxury of anger.<\/p>\n He wouldn\u2019t indulge in it now, not even toward himself, or grief, either. There was still work to be done, if he and the other passengers were to survive. Captain Lawson had said something like that to him in those final moments before he collapsed on the beach, and he reached for duty now as a way to pull himself from painful self-examination. He began to walk the shore with more purpose, searching, as he and the captain had last night, for anything of value to their survival.<\/p>\n Realizing his thirst, he first looked on shore for the keg of ale and prayed he hadn\u2019t slept away his opportunity for the freshest drink available. He sighted it, further up the coast from where he\u2019d slept, and walked to it, licking his lips, though that was a mistake, since they tasted of salt. Lying on top of the keg were a number of large shells, which he assumed had served as drinking vessels. Taking one, he opened the keg, found it about half full and assumed the captain had rationed out its contents, saving some for this morning. Since he\u2019d had none the night before, he dipped in the shell, took what he thought was a fair share and then set out to search the flotsam of the ship.<\/p>\n His only major find was a length of rope, which he thought might be useful, and he was looping it around his arm when he spied something, wedged between two medium-sized boulders just off shore. Thinking at first that it was a suitcase, he headed toward it. If his own shredded clothing was any example of the near-nakedness of the other survivors, surely someone could use whatever was inside. As he neared it, he realized the wooden case was too small to hold even a child\u2019s clothes, and then he knew exactly what it was and began to run through the surf toward a prize that had personal significance. He snatched from the battering waves the traveling chess set his little brother had given him as an early Christmas present. It was cracked on one corner, but otherwise intact. As he clasped it to his chest, his emotions at last gave way, and great, wracking sobs convulsed him while he stood ankle-deep in the foaming waves and all but submerged in grief.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Cartwright!\u201d<\/p>\n Jolted from his stupor, Adam looked up and saw the captain waving him in to shore, and he somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other in obedience to the summons.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you have there?\u201d Captain Lawson asked as his foremost scavenger waded from the water. \u201cSomething useful?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA chess set,\u201d Adam answered dully.<\/p>\n The captain laughed. \u201cNot worth the weight to carry. Toss it away.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam clasped it still tighter. \u201cNo! It\u2019s mine.\u201d<\/p>\n The captain stared at the man, fearing he had finally lost his reason. \u201cNevertheless,\u201d he said, keeping his voice calm, \u201cnot useful. Let me dispose of it for you.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam gave him a fierce look. \u201cNo! It\u2019s mine, I tell you!\u201d He swallowed down his rising bile and stammered out, \u201cA gift . . . from my brother.\u201d<\/p>\n Captain Lawson looked at him then with eyes of compassion. \u201cI see. Well, I think you\u2019ll find it a hindrance, Mr. Cartwright, but keep it, if you will. You\u2019ll have to set it down, however, if you\u2019re going to help bury the dead. You are going to help, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n It took a long moment for duty to register. Then Adam nodded and began to search for a safe place to stow his treasure while he worked. The answer came from the least expected place.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll hold it for you, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d a small voice piped up.<\/p>\n Adam turned and saw Joe\u2019s little friend and was at first reluctant to give the case to someone he still looked upon as a hooligan, but it was either that or trust that someone else wouldn\u2019t find it and chuck it into the sea. \u201cIt was Joe\u2019s,\u201d he said to impress upon the boy its value.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, sir,\u201d Mark said, looking at it with such reverence that Adam felt a smile tickle his lips, and the hooligan was transformed before his eyes into a guardian angel, albeit one with as endearingly tarnished a halo as that of the cherubic lad who\u2019d given the gift.<\/p>\n He handed over the chess set. \u201cDon\u2019t go prying,\u201d he cautioned and when he saw the boy gulp, added, \u201cYou can see it later, when I\u2019m with you.\u201d<\/p>\n Mark grinned then. \u201cYes, sir. I\u2019ll guard it with my life.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam almost laughed at the overblown statement, but stopped himself in time, just as he would have with a young Little Joe. From that moment, Mark became a representation of his little brother. Joe was gone, but this boy, who had been his friend, would be saved, for Joe\u2019s sweet sake.<\/p>\n Men not fit to dig first stripped the dead to clothe the living, all of whom were in rags, while the able-bodied men salvaged boards from the shipwreck and used them to dig shallow graves in the sand. They weren\u2019t intended to be permanent; in time the dead would be interred in more substantial resting places. For now, the only intent was to shelter them from the elements and protect them for proper burial later. Mrs. Winston, the sole woman among them, used a small length of rope to tie two pieces of wood together to fashion a rough cross. \u201cAt least, folks\u2019ll know it\u2019s a sacred place,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n When the burying was done and the clothing distributed among the men, everyone gathered around the captain for further instructions. His first order was to ration out the remaining ale, starting with the woman and young Mark Davis, who looked quite pleased to take his share of what would the day before have been forbidden to a child like him. Neither he nor Mrs. Winston complained when Captain Lawson said they would all have to walk to Manzanillo, but several of the men argued against the plan. \u201cSurely, a boat will be sent for us when the others arrive in town,\u201d one, making himself a spokesman, said.<\/p>\n \u201cThat could take several days,\u201d Captain Lawson pointed out, \u201cand since we have no food or fresh water . . .\u201d\u2014he left the sentence unfinished, but all argument ceased.<\/p>\n \u201cHow far is it?\u201d the newly humbled spokesman inquired.<\/p>\n \u201cAbout fifteen miles,\u201d the captain said, \u201cso at least two days. It could be more. Impossible for me to say without knowing the terrain.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe can\u2019t go two or more days without water!\u201d another man cried.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d the captain admitted frankly, \u201cbut there\u2019s a chance we\u2019ll come across some as we go inland.\u201d<\/p>\n The ragtag band of twenty-five couldn\u2019t leave immediately. Even after raiding the dead washed up on shore, some remained shoeless, so the crew helped bind their feet in strips of canvas from the remnants of the sails their older ship had still carried. Having found a pair of balmorals only slightly too small, Adam was one of the lucky ones with actual shoes. Mrs. Winston was another, although the men\u2019s style looked strange on her slender feet. No children\u2019s bodies had come in with the tide, so Adam bound Mark\u2019s small feet with canvas and made a bargain with the boy. \u201cYou carry my chess set, and I\u2019ll carry you,\u201d he suggested, and Mark accepted the commission with a broad grin.<\/p>\n It was no easy trek. The sand was soft, but constantly shifting, and as the sun rose toward its zenith, it began to burn their feet, particularly those bound in canvas. The ones with shoes weren\u2019t much better off, for the sand sifted into their footgear. About four miles into their journey, their way was blocked by a large white rock, and they were forced inland, through jungle and thorns and began to long for the burning sands, which at least didn\u2019t tear at their tender feet and their bodies, scorched first by fire and then by the heat of the sun. By midday everyone was dripping with sweat in the tropical heat and humidity, but their spirits were enlivened when they came across a small pool of water. It didn\u2019t matter that it was dirty and filled with vegetation; it was water, and they drank greedily of the brackish stuff. After a brief rest, the trek began again.<\/p>\n From the sun\u2019s position, Adam estimated it was about 4:00 that afternoon when they stopped for the day. Alone, he might have pressed on, but he was tired and some of the others more so. Due to the increasingly difficult terrain, he\u2019d had to set Mark down, and in those waning hours of the day\u2019s journey, he felt keenly the foolishness of burdening himself with the chess set. He knew he should leave it behind, but no matter how often he told himself, he couldn\u2019t do it. His brother\u2019s final gift? No, only if it meant life or death would he relinquish it. And it gratified him that, in those stretches when he could carry the child, Mark immediately reached for the wooden case. For him, too, it held significance. Together, they\u2019d see it through to Manzanillo.<\/p>\n The travelers made camp and spent another night without food or water, for the slightly saline pool they\u2019d found that morning had been all they\u2019d seen throughout the day, and though the jungle undoubtedly held a wealth of fruit, none grew close to their path. His energy drained by the exertions of the day, Adam slept soundly, dreamlessly, until he was awakened by the captain just prior to dawn.<\/p>\n \u201cI wonder if I could prevail upon your help once more, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d Captain Lawson said.<\/p>\n \u201cOf course,\u201d Adam responded from natural reflex. \u201cWhat do you need, Captain?\u201d<\/p>\n With a quick glance at the boy sleeping at Adam\u2019s side, the captain motioned for him to get up and follow and Adam did. Once they were alone, he said, \u201cYou strike me as the sort of man who knows his way around a wilderness.\u201d<\/p>\n A brief smile lifted one corner of Adam\u2019s mouth. \u201cNot this particular wilderness,\u201d he said, \u201cbut I know how to scout an area, if that\u2019s your meaning.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt is, precisely,\u201d the captain said, smiling at the man\u2019s quick perception of his intention. He sobered quickly, however. \u201cI\u2019ll be frank, Mr. Cartwright. We can\u2019t go another day in this heat without water.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I agree.”<\/p>\n \u201cDo you think you could find some?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf it\u2019s there to be found, I\u2019ll find it,\u201d Adam promised.<\/p>\n \u201cGood man,\u201d said the captain, clapping the other man\u2019s shoulder. \u201cI\u2019ll send one of my men with you, along with that pail we salvaged from the ship. A pain to carry, I know, but the best thing we have for bringing water back.\u201d<\/p>\n At the words \u201cpain to carry,\u201d Adam instinctively glanced at the burden he\u2019d carried all day yesterday. When he saw that the captain had followed his glance, he shrugged. \u201cI know you think it\u2019s foolish.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUnneeded weight, yes,\u201d the captain said, \u201cbut I do understand, Mr. Cartwright. You needn\u2019t fear: it\u2019ll be here when you return.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam uttered a short, rough laugh. \u201cI wasn\u2019t afraid. You\u2019d have to fight a certain small tiger before you could toss it out.\u201d<\/p>\n Recognizing the reference to the boy, Captain Lawson also laughed. \u201cI think you\u2019re right. My man Jamison is waiting for you. I\u2019ve told him you\u2019re in charge, and he\u2019ll follow orders.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam nodded. \u201cWe\u2019ll leave right away, then. You\u2019ll be here?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d the captain said. \u201cWithout knowing the terrain ahead, I think it best we wait for you.\u201d<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n \u201cDo you think we\u2019ll find water, Mr. Cartwright?\u201d Jamison asked. They\u2019d plowed through thorny chaparral for almost a mile, and he was beginning to think their quest was a fool\u2019s errand.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s Adam. No formality needed here,\u201d Adam said, \u201cand, yes, I\u2019m sure we\u2019ll find water.\u201d He was less sure than he sounded, though he thought their chances were good. He pointed to the mountains towering on their left. \u201cThose are bound to stop the rain, and where there\u2019s rain, there\u2019s water. Trust me, I know, \u2018cause I live on the wrong side of the mountains back home.\u201d He flashed a grin. \u201cThe water\u2019s definitely on the California side.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTake your word for it,\u201d Jamison said. \u201cMe, I never get past San Francisco. Well, plow on, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPlow on,\u201d Adam agreed. It was difficult plowing, as their narrow path weaved between the mountains on one side and impassible cliffs to the seaward side. Adam began to wonder if it might peter out completely. If it did, he saw no hope of walking to Manzanillo. Their only hope, then, would be if the lifeboats reached the small town and sent back a rescue boat. Even so, it would be the custom house boat he\u2019d seen on his eastbound voyage, too small to carry them all, so some would have to wait, probably another day, for it to make a round trip back for them. That made finding water all the more imperative.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n As Adam walked back into the sparse camp by the shore, a small figure came running to him, grabbing him around the legs. \u201cMr. Cartwright!\u201d Mark cried. \u201cWhy\u2019d you go off and leave me?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam rested a hand atop the boy\u2019s tow head. \u201cYou know why, son, but I\u2019m back now. Everything\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n As Mark squeezed all the tighter, the other survivors began to congregate around Adam. \u201cDidn\u2019t you find water?\u201d asked a heavy-set man who\u2019d been a petulant complainer throughout most of their trek the day before.<\/p>\n \u201cI did, Mr. Jordan,\u201d Adam wearily assured him. Between the child clinging to his thorn-ravaged body and the man assaulting his ears, he had a hard time even standing up, much less being civil.<\/p>\n The captain worked his way through the press to Adam\u2019s side. \u201cWhere is Jamison?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cComing,\u201d Adam said. \u201cHe insisted on carrying the pail of water . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAt my order,\u201d Captain Lawson interrupted to say.<\/p>\n Adam nodded. \u201cSo I understood. Freed of that weight, I could walk faster and thought it best to come ahead, so you could organize for rationing the water.\u201d He managed to peel Mark\u2019s arms loose, but kept his hand on the boy. He lowered his voice as he added, \u201cIt\u2019s all there is, sir. Not much more than a puddle, but we drank what was left after filling the pail, so we won\u2019t need a share of what we\u2019ve brought.\u201d<\/p>\n The captain clapped both of Adam\u2019s shoulders; then he turned to the people under his charge. \u201cWater has been found!\u201d he announced. \u201cPlease line up as we discussed earlier. Mrs. Winston, you\u2019ll be first, and then this child.\u201d He reached for Mark\u2019s hand, but the boy continued to clutch Adam\u2019s.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll take care of him,\u201d Adam assured the captain. \u201cCome on, Mark. Let\u2019s take our place in line and get you a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n Jordan rushed toward Jamison as he walked into camp, but another member of the crew quickly restrained him, and the others fell into line, as instructed, giving first place to the woman and the child. Once Mark had received his share, Adam felt free to collapse and so he headed back to the area where he\u2019d slept the night before. There he found the chess set, placed between two small boulders for safekeeping. He was spent and didn\u2019t know how he\u2019d manage to carry it along the difficult path ahead of them, but he was determined to save this last vestige of Joe. Oh, there\u2019d be other things, once he reached the Ponderosa, but somehow he felt Joe\u2019s presence more deeply with this object he\u2019d touched so recently, a gift of love for him and him alone.<\/p>\n He felt a stab of painful regret at that thought. Why hadn\u2019t he shared the gift with Joe? He\u2019d used it, but always with other people. Not once had he offered to play a game with his brother. No point asking why; he knew why, but it all seemed so foolish now, a thought that kept recurring in moments when his mind wasn\u2019t occupied with actual survival. So foolish. He and Joe had spent the whole journey apart, when they could have been enjoying each other. Instead, he\u2019d spent all his time with people he\u2019d never see again, never dreaming that his own brother would be one of them.<\/p>\n Adam jerked himself from his dark reverie. He had no time for this now. Lives depended on his staying alert, moment by moment. He was responsible for Mark, after all . . . and Mrs. Winston . . . and Jamison. Even that lout Jordan. He stopped short of shouldering responsibility for Captain Lawson, who, ultimately, was responsible for them all, but even he needed Adam\u2019s help, didn\u2019t he? Of course, he did. So, that was settled. Adam was needed . . . he needed to be needed . . . not least of all to silence the tormenting thoughts of his little brother, blown into a thousand bits and scattered along the beach, far from the Ponderosa he\u2019d loved and yearned for . . . leaving his big brother behind with nothing but a heart full of regrets.<\/p>\n Just then Mark ran up to him. \u201cCaptain says we\u2019re leavin\u2019, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam almost leaped to his feet, ready to take on his responsibilities and anyone else\u2019s, for that matter. \u201cWe\u2019d best get people moving, then, eh, boy?\u201d<\/p>\n Mark, too, was a boy who was wrapping himself in the moment to avoid thinking of those he loved, and he eagerly agreed. \u201cYes, sir. We got to get \u2018em moving.\u201d He reached for the small chess set. \u201cDon\u2019t be forgettin\u2019 this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d As he grasped the handle, the torment came throttling back into Adam\u2019s soul, and he knew, however hard he tried, he wouldn\u2019t be able to silence the grief for long. \u201cHere, you carry it,\u201d he said, handing it back to the boy. \u201cI\u2019ll carry you.\u201d<\/p>\n Mark threw out his chest. \u201cI can walk.\u201d<\/p>\n A fleeting smile flickered on Adam\u2019s face. \u201cYou\u2019ll have to soon enough. Those wrappings on your feet will take a beating before this day\u2019s done, so best to spare them while you can.\u201d He picked the boy up, grateful that he made no argument. Not so much like Joe, after all, Adam mused.<\/p>\n Everyone\u2019s feet, even those that were shod, took a beating that day. With few exceptions (Jordon, naturally, being one) they bore it stalwartly. The wear and tear on their feet wasn\u2019t the half of what the survivors endured that day. Thorns from the encroaching cactus and chaparral tore at their already ripped clothing and scraped their tender, sunburnt flesh. Sweat dripped from their brows and down their backs, and as the path narrowed and narrowed again, voices rose in protest. How far had Cartwright and that crewman scouted ahead? Not far enough, obviously! They were being led deeper into the jungle, farther from civilization, if Manzanillo could even be called civilization! And who knew if they\u2019d ever find their way out? The rumblings crescendoed into cries to go back, to return to the beach and wait for rescue.<\/p>\n \u201cWill we make it through?\u201d Mark asked, his wrinkled forehead transmitting the fear he\u2019d picked up from the critics, who numbered more than just Jordan and his like by this time.<\/p>\n \u201cWe will,\u201d Adam said, though seeds of doubt were starting to sprout in him, as well. He hadn\u2019t had time to scout the entire trail, of course, and at the moment making it all the way to Manzanillo didn\u2019t look promising. Still, going back really wasn\u2019t an option, so they\u2019d have to press on, ignoring the evidence of their eyes and trusting the same merciful Providence that had brought them safe thus far. At least, that was what he told himself in better moments; in worse ones, he, like the others, listened to his sour and increasingly empty stomach.<\/p>\n The change, when it came, was subtle, but Adam, with his expertise as an outdoorsman, perceived it first and whispered to the child he was carrying at the time, \u201cWe\u2019re going down, and the path is less overgrown.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDown to the town?\u201d Mark whispered back, proud to be sharing secrets.<\/p>\n \u201cEventually,\u201d Adam said. He had no idea how close they\u2019d be when they finally came out of this jungle, but he was confident now they\u2019d make it.<\/p>\n His prophecy proved true, and as the pathway broadened, everyone soon sensed they were closing in on their goal. The sun began to sink behind the diminishing cliffs to their right, and up ahead a few lights began to glow in the windows of Manzanillo. Their steps quickened. Though long past being able to run, everyone managed to pick up their pace, wanting to reach the town by nightfall. They barely succeeded, as the last rays of sunset lighted their stumbling steps into the plaza.<\/p>\n Captain Lawson halted them in front of the church. \u201cWait here,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ll inform the company that we\u2019ve arrived and see what provision they can make for us tonight.\u201d A shout of victory went up from the band of twenty-five, and though it was feeble, it was loud enough to bring the townspeople to their doors. Soon the people were pouring out, carrying fruit and wine and bread for the starving travelers.<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Cartwright?\u201d Mark hesitantly asked. \u201cWill\u2014will Mama be here?\u201d<\/p>\n Still holding the boy in his arms, Adam gave him a squeeze as he said, \u201cI hope so, son.\u201d Feeling the need to make it stronger, he added, \u201cI believe so. There\u2019s a good chance she\u2014and your brother\u2014are here.\u201d He saw tears shimmering in the child\u2019s eyes and set him down, sensing that another consoling squeeze at that moment would have brought forth a flood of pent-up tears.<\/p>\n Across the plaza, he saw Captain Lawson moving toward them, a virtual army at his back, for the word was out. Survivors had arrived! Those who\u2019d been in the lifeboats thronged out to meet the newcomers, to see which of their shipboard friends had made it through the ordeal all had shared, and families were reunited, as women and children found fathers and brothers for whom there\u2019d been no room in the boats.<\/p>\n One woman, clutching a tow-headed twelve-year-old at her side, outran the captain, calling out, \u201cMark! Mark! Are you here?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama!\u201d Mark screamed and took off, dropping the wooden case he\u2019d carried so far.<\/p>\n Adam bent to pick it up and when he rose, he saw his young friend in his mother\u2019s arms, grimy face and sweaty head being smothered in kisses. Then he saw Mark turn to throw his arms around his twin brother, and Adam felt a sharp twinge of jealousy, for there would be no such reunion for him. He had no brother to embrace. He and Joe had never been as close as identical twins, of course. In fact, he hadn\u2019t felt as close to Joe as he did to Hoss. The difference in their ages, as well as temperaments, he supposed. Now, he\u2019d change that if he could, but like so many other good intentions, this one had come too late. The unwelcome thoughts he\u2019d kept submerged all day came surging back.<\/p>\n The captain made his way toward the cluster of former passengers who had no one to reunite with and gathered them around him. \u201cI\u2019m afraid there are no rooms remaining in the hotel,\u201d he said, \u201cbut I understand a number of the townspeople have opened their homes to you. It may take time to sort out, but I\u2019m confident we\u2019ll find a bed for each of you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSe\u00f1or<\/em> Captain,\u201d said a man in his mid-forties, who wore a long brown robe, tied with a rope for a belt.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Father, or is it Brother?\u201d Captain Lawson said.<\/p>\n \u201cI am Padre<\/em> Diego,\u201d the priest said. \u201cWe can take a few men into the brothers\u2019 domicile, if it will help. The beds are not as comfortable as those in the village, but they will find them quiet and peaceful.\u201d<\/p>\n Quiet and peaceful. Adam could think of nothing he needed more. \u201cI\u2019ll stay there,\u201d he volunteered. He\u2019d forgotten that quiet and peaceful was the last thing he wanted.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Silent as a panther, Adam padded down the narrow corridor in his bare feet. Exhaustion had ensured he fell asleep almost as soon as he lay on the spartan cot in a room scarcely large enough to hold it, but it hadn\u2019t kept him in blessed oblivion for long. Unlike Joe, he wasn\u2019t normally given to nightmares, but this had been a particularly hellish one. His brother, trapped on the burning deck, was crying reproachfully, \u201cWhy did you leave me?\u201d Then, just as the flames began to lick at his curly head, the ship exploded and\u2014Adam awoke. Thankfully, he hadn\u2019t screamed and wakened the sleeping friars, but he had to get out of that room. So much for peace and quiet.<\/p>\n Still wanting not to disturb anyone, he made his way out of the dormitory and into the church. He took a seat in one of the pews and gave in to the waking nightmare he\u2019d avoided all day. No one needed him now. Joe had, and he hadn\u2019t been there for his brother. That was what that dream was about, of course. He\u2019d failed his brother when he needed him most, and he didn\u2019t know how to live with that. And how would he face Pa? He\u2019d gone east to find Pa\u2019s baby son and bring him safely home, and he\u2019d failed miserably. Maybe he should just stay in Manzanillo and let Pa think they\u2019d both died in that shipwreck.<\/p>\n It wouldn\u2019t work, of course; too many people knew he had survived, and he wasn\u2019t seriously contemplating it. Yet, as much as he wanted to be home, to go there without Little Joe was unthinkable. At least, he didn\u2019t want to think about it; yet in the silence of the church, all he could do was think. Well, not think, exactly, for he hadn\u2019t had a coherent thought since he woke, but he could feel. Oh, God, how he could feel! And how he wished he couldn\u2019t. He bowed his head on the pew in front of him and tried to hang on to his sanity.<\/p>\n He had no idea how long he stayed there before he became aware of the hand resting on his bent neck and slowly raised his head to stare into the face of Padre<\/em> Diego. \u201cPadre<\/em>,\u201d he said. \u201cAm I intruding here?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo one intrudes here,\u201d the priest said. \u201cAll are welcome.\u201d He moved to the pew ahead of Adam and sat down. \u201cYou are troubled, my son.\u201d It was a statement, not a question.<\/p>\n \u201cI couldn\u2019t sleep,\u201d Adam said, \u201cor, rather, I could, but not . . . peacefully.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou have been through much.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMuch,\u201d Adam agreed. Too much, he thought.<\/p>\n \u201cBut that is not what troubles you,\u201d the priest said. Again, a statement.<\/p>\n Adam smiled wryly. \u201cDo you read minds, Padre<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n Padre<\/em> Diego shook his head. \u201cNot minds\u2014souls. I have met many troubled souls here, and you have the same haunted look in your eyes. May I not offer you some balm?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs there balm in Gilead?\u201d Adam muttered.<\/p>\n \u201cJeremiah\u2019s question,\u201d said the priest. \u201cYou know the Holy Scriptures, my son.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA passing acquaintance,\u201d Adam said with a shrug. \u201cFour years of college chapel. How is it you speak English so well, if you don\u2019t mind my asking?\u201d<\/p>\n Padre<\/em> Diego chuckled. \u201cYou are assuming I am Mexican. I am now, but I was born in California, where I grew up speaking both English and Spanish. I came here six years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor such a time as this?\u201d Adam asked, calling up another Scripture from his chapel days.<\/p>\n The priest shuddered involuntarily. \u201cI pray there will not be many such times as this. So much loss of life. More than 200, I am told.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam shook his head. He hadn\u2019t known, hadn\u2019t thought to ask. Two hundred lives lost, but he\u2019d thought only of one, as, perhaps, all of them who\u2019d lost someone had done.<\/p>\n \u201cBut we were speaking of you and the trouble in your soul,\u201d Padre<\/em> Diego said, and then asked, \u201cAre you Catholic, my son?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA pity,\u201d said the priest with a sympathetic look. \u201cI could then offer you the comfort of the confessional. Still, I could listen as a man, a friend, even as a father, though not in the religious sense. It might help.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam laughed bitterly. \u201cA dress rehearsal?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do not understand, my son.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTelling you first what I must tell my father when I return home,\u201d Adam explained. \u201cIt might help, but I shouldn\u2019t burden you with my sins, Padre<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTo carry such burdens is my vocation,\u201d the priest said. \u201cIf you were Catholic, you would know this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI remember,\u201d Adam said softly. At the priest\u2019s quizzical look, he explained, \u201cMy stepmother\u2014his mother\u2014was Catholic.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHis?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy brother.\u201d Adam almost choked on the words. \u201cI-I lost him in the shipwreck.\u201d<\/p>\n The priest laid his hand on Adam\u2019s arm. \u201cTell me of him.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam did, leaving out nothing of the pettiness of his quarrels with Joe, making it clear that the breach hadn\u2019t been serious, that he\u2019d always intended to mend it, that he hadn\u2019t meant to abandon his brother, but in the end had failed him. When he had talked himself dry, the priest nodded in understanding. \u201cYou did not heed Paul\u2019s advice or, perhaps, your chapel did not teach that Scripture,\u201d he said with a smile that was both teasing and tender.<\/p>\n Adam looked puzzled for a moment and then grimaced. \u201c\u2018Do not let the sun go down upon your wrath?\u2019\u201d he queried. \u201cI didn\u2019t need chapel for that one. My father drilled that into me from boyhood up. You\u2019re right, of course; that was my sin, hanging onto wrath when I should have let it go.\u201d<\/p>\n The priest spread his hands, as if to say the conclusion was obvious, but there was no condemnation in the gesture. \u201cBut you have told me only of your fault, my son, and of his. Do you have no good memories of your brother?\u201d<\/p>\n Startled, Adam protested, \u201cOf course! Many.\u201d<\/p>\n With a light laugh, the priest said, \u201cThen tell me one. What is the memory you cherish most?\u201d<\/p>\n It took Adam no time at all, and the muscles in his face relaxed as he said, \u201cHis laughter. Joe was always laughing, and it was so infectious, you couldn\u2019t help laughing with him, even when he was at his most maddening. And he could be that, too, but his anger was always a flash in the pan, over and done with. He had no problem with Paul\u2019s advice.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEver?\u201d The priest smiled his skepticism.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, less than his older, supposedly wiser brother,\u201d Adam said with a sigh.<\/p>\n The smile faded, and the sigh was copied. \u201cFocus not on the fault, my son; you have sorrowed enough over that. If you were Catholic, I would give you penance and it would be done.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen treat me as if I were!\u201d Adam cried, and the priest could hear his desperation.<\/p>\n Silently praying for wisdom, Padre<\/em> Diego laid his hand atop Adam\u2019s head. \u201cI shall do as you ask, my son. Paul gives other advice in Philippians.\u201d He paused a moment, for it had been years since he\u2019d quoted that verse in English. Then he continued, \u201c\u2018Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report . . . think on these things.\u2019 If you will find solace, my son, take this as penance: go now to the seashore, listen to the lap of the waves and think of such things. Think of your brother and yourself in the good times. Let the grief and the tears come, but let them be gentle, without reproach. Will you do this?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s chin was quivering, but he managed to say, \u201cI\u2019ll try.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGood. Go now, even before the sun wakes.\u201d With his hand still on Adam\u2019s head, the priest spoke a blessing over him and released him. \u201cStay as long as you need,\u201d he said. \u201cWe keep regular hours in the refectory, but we will find you something to eat whenever you return.\u201d With that, he rose and left Adam alone.<\/p>\n Adam didn\u2019t hesitate. Still barefoot and clad only in the muslin nightshirt one of the friar\u2019s had loaned him, he left the church and walked into the predawn darkness, across the plaza to the very edge of the sea and, settling on the sand, drew his knees up to his chin. As he listened to the ebb and flow of the waves, he thought, as best he was able, of good things and good times with his brother. Slowly, the grief he\u2019d fought so hard to submerge, rose like an incoming tide, and he wept, not the hard, wracking sobs of that first condemning explosion of grief he\u2019d felt when he found the chess set, but slow, gentle tears that brought, in their wake, healing.<\/p>\n As the rising sun bathed the mountains behind him, he heard the town stirring to life after the long night and felt his spirit rise, as well, out of the long, dark night of his soul. Suddenly aware that he was not in a fit state of dress for public view, he jumped up and ran back to the church with light feet and a lighter heart.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n The plaza rippled with excitement, not simply because it was Christmas Eve. This was the day the survivors of the Golden\u00a0 Dream<\/em> had longed for, the day they would leave Manzanillo, and there could not be a better Christmas gift than that. The ship was already in the bay, making whatever adjustments necessary for the unexpected extra passengers, and though accommodations would be tight, they didn\u2019t care. They\u2019d gotten used to crowded quarters in the humble homes they\u2019d shared the last four days, and luxury didn\u2019t matter anymore, except to a few habitual complainers like Mr. Jordan. They were going home! Even the ones whose homes weren\u2019t in San Francisco could hardly wait to see that city, where they would, at last, feel safe on American soil.<\/p>\n Adam wasn\u2019t quite as eager as the rest. He\u2019d found peace here in the Mexican village, and feared he might lose it again, away from the quiet solace of the church and the godly council of the men who lived there. San Francisco, to him, only meant saddening Pa and Hoss with the tragic news of Little Joe\u2019s death. No, he wasn\u2019t eager to face that, but he was ready. He had passed through the storm, both literally and figuratively, and knew that one day the clouds would break and dawn would come for all the Cartwrights. For all but one, that is.<\/p>\n Thoughts of his brother sent another stab of guilt through Adam. Little Joe had so longed to be home for Christmas, and if they\u2019d left Boston immediately, as he had wanted, they\u2019d no doubt have made it. No shipwreck, just the joy of being together as a family on that special day. But Adam had insisted that it wasn\u2019t polite to pay so short a visit, so they\u2019d stayed with the Pontpiers through Thanksgiving. It had seemed reasonable at the time, but Joe had paid for it with his life. Adam shook the accusing thoughts away. Think on good things, he reminded himself, and the peace settled back in place.<\/p>\n Finally, the call came to board, and the survivors began to make their way up the gangplank. Adam stood back to let others go first, as did a number of other men, although he noticed that nincompoop Jordan pushing past women, children and family units to ensure he got a decent stateroom. Adam didn\u2019t care if his quarters ended up being in the cargo hold, so long as he got on board. He set down the light burden he carried to wait his turn. The drawstring bag the friars had given him didn\u2019t hold much. Having taken a vow of poverty, they hadn\u2019t much to give, but it held a change of clothes, the shoes he\u2019d taken off a dead man, a fresh loaf of bread from the refectory ovens and, of course, the chess set. He had a feeling he and Pa would prefer it to any other in future games.<\/p>\n He watched the line of passengers file up the gangplank, a painstakingly slow process since each man, woman and child had to be assigned a place, and occasionally adjustments had to be made to keep families together as much as possible. Finally, though, he felt it was time to take his place in line, for while he was willing to sleep in the cargo hold, it wasn\u2019t his preference, and even his association with Padre<\/em> Diego and the friars hadn\u2019t made him saintly enough to take last place in boarding the ship.<\/p>\n As he was waiting his turn to mount the gangplank, he became aware of some commotion behind him in the line. Turning, he saw a Mexican peasant pressing through the Anglo men, stopping before each one to make some sort of query, receiving a shake of the head from each one and then moving on to the next. As the man drew closer, Adam jerked to attention, for what the man was saying to each man he passed was \u201cSe\u00f1or Adam? Adam, se\u00f1or? Se\u00f1or Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n He was stunned into silence, but then thrust his hand high above his head and called, \u201cI\u2019m Adam.\u201d Realizing the man probably spoke no English, he switched to Spanish. \u201cYo soy<\/em> Adam!\u201d<\/p>\n The man pushed others aside to get to Adam. \u201cUsted es<\/em> Adam?\u201d he asked in an excited voice. When Adam said he was, the man held tightly to his arm and said, \u201cVenga conmigo, se\u00f1or<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCome with you? Why? I mean, porqu\u00e9<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEs importante, se\u00f1or<\/em>!\u201d Seeing Adam\u2019s skeptical look, he said the words that, for Adam, changed everything: \u201cHay un muchacho<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n The man rattled on in rapid-fire Spanish, but Adam\u2019s swirling mind would not move past that first sentence. \u201cThere is a boy,\u201d the man had said, and from the few words he caught after that, apparently that boy had asked for him by name. Or maybe not him. He wasn\u2019t the only man named Adam, of course, but there wasn\u2019t another among the survivors, as far as he knew, and the man had used the Anglicized version of his name, so it must be an English-speaking Adam the man sought. But what boy would ask for him? The Davis boys had already boarded with their mother, and he knew no others, except . . . no, it wasn\u2019t possible. He\u2019d come to grips with that loss; he couldn\u2019t bear to have hope raised again, only to be crushed again. Still, hay un<\/em> muchacho<\/em>. Foolish or not, he had to know. \u201cLl\u00e9vame a \u00e9l<\/em>,\u201d he said. \u201cTake me to him.\u201d<\/p>\n The man, all smiles now, led him past the few remaining passengers who hadn\u2019t already pushed by them and moved across the plaza. Adam naturally assumed he was being taken to some casa in the village. When he saw, instead, that the man led him through the plaza and started to head out of town, he stopped and looked back toward the dock. Here in the village, it would take only a few minutes to check out this boy who had called for an Adam, but leaving town would take longer, and there was every chance the ship would leave without him. He\u2019d made his peace with going home and hated to risk what another squelched hope might do to him. But hay un muchacho<\/em>. How could he not answer that call? With a crisp nod of determination, he started forward again and didn\u2019t balk, even when the man led him into trackless jungle.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n While the journey wasn\u2019t as difficult as the one Adam had endured after the shipwreck, he was glad he\u2019d decided to wear the sandals provided by the friars and save those toe-pinching balmorals to \u201cdress up\u201d for supper aboard ship. Though he still thought of it as a jungle, there wasn\u2019t as much thorny chaparral here, and while he could see the mountains, they weren\u2019t hemming in the path the way they had north of Manzanillo. By comparison, this was an easy walk, but it seemed endless, as journeys of unknown length always did, especially when a man was anxious about what he\u2019d find\u2014or, in this case, not find\u2014at its end.<\/p>\n More than once Adam cursed himself for a fool. He\u2019d heard the ship\u2019s horn sounding and knew he\u2019d lost that chance to go home, and it would be ten days, at least, before another ship docked at Manzanillo. It might be as much as a month, since normally ships only stopped there that often. In the meantime, news of the wreck of the Golden<\/em> Dream<\/em> would reach San Francisco five days from now with the returning survivors and would make front-page headlines in the Alta<\/em> California<\/em>, and that would be picked up by the Territorial Enterprise<\/em>, causing untold distress for Pa and Hoss. Surely, there\u2019d be a list of survivors, and surely, he\u2019d be on it. That should give them some relief, but Joe\u2019s name wouldn\u2019t be there, and his family would learn of his loss in the worst possible way, the stark black and white of impersonal newsprint.<\/p>\n He could have spared them that, at least, if he just hadn\u2019t listened to the clarion call of those three tantalizing words, but fool that he was, he had to answer the call. It was probably all for nothing. Joe was dead. He might just as well turn around and walk back to town, except that, too, was futile now. The ship was gone, and he\u2019d be left to beg his daily bread, since all his money had gone down with the Golden<\/em> Dream<\/em>. Oh, Padre<\/em> Diego and the friars would probably take him in again. They were kind and generous men, but they were also poor men. It wasn\u2019t right that they should have to share their meager resources again, especially with a man too foolish to get on the boat for home. And when on earth would they get to wherever they were going? \u201cCu\u00e1n lejos<\/em>?\u201d he asked. He felt and sounded irritated, though more with himself than the man who\u2019d led him out here in the middle of nowhere.<\/p>\n \u201cNo lejos, se\u00f1or<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n Not far, huh? Adam wasn\u2019t sure he could believe that, but at this point, what choice did he have?<\/p>\n It was further than he would have described as \u201cnot far,\u201d but the foliage slowly began to thin until it finally gave way to a manmade clearing in the deciduous trees. Planted in pasture grass, it was scampered over by a small herd of goats, and at its far edge sat a native hut. From the open doorway escaped three stairstep boys, who came running toward the man at Adam\u2019s side.<\/p>\n Adam sucked in a wincing breath. A father with his three sons, a sharp reminder of what the Cartwrights had once been. Why couldn\u2019t it have been two? No, that would remind him of what the Cartwrights now were. Four, then. Dear God, why not bless the man with four or five? Of course, he might not have been able to feed that many. Adam shook himself loose from the storm of unbidden thoughts and steeled himself to face the reunion of father and sons.<\/p>\n A woman came to the doorway, spoon in hand, but remained there, and the homecoming no longer reminded him of his own family. Except for a few brief years with Marie and even fewer with Inger, there had been no woman waiting at the Cartwright door. And they weren\u2019t waiting now, except for Little Joe. No, that wasn\u2019t right. Ben\u2019s three wives weren\u2019t waiting for Joe; they\u2019d already greeted him, unless he was in some land of limbo. Didn\u2019t the Catholics believe that unbaptized souls stayed in limbo, instead of being admitted to heaven? No! He refused to believe that had been his brother\u2019s fate. Feeling perilously close to losing his reason, Adam ended the reunion with a biting \u201cHay un muchacho<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cS\u00ed, se\u00f1or. Venga<\/em>.\u201d The abashed father pulled free of his sons\u2019 embrace and headed toward the hut. He entered with a chatter of words for his wife, and she responded excitedly with chatter of her own.<\/p>\n Adam couldn\u2019t follow the rapid stream of words in the foreign tongue, and frankly, he didn\u2019t care. He was focused on one thing, seeing this mysterious muchacho<\/em> and laying to rest, once and for all, the ghost of his little brother. The man motioned him forward, indicating a small room off the main living area. Entering, Adam saw at a glance that the person lying in the double bed was Anglo, for his curly hair, beneath a circling bandage was lighter than a Mexican\u2019s would have been. His torso was also heavily bandaged, and he was lying on his side, with his back turned.<\/p>\n Adam moved closer and bent over the figure in the bed. The face was battered and, like his back, blistered by the sun, possibly even singed by fire, but he\u2019d have recognized it anywhere, in any condition. He whispered breathlessly what must surely be the three most glorious words in any language. \u201cHay un muchacho<\/em>. Oh, my God, there is<\/em> a boy!\u201d And if three words had been glorious, what superlative was enough to hint at the impact of that one? Is, not was. With trembling hands, he cupped the face of his little brother\u2014alive, here, with him still. By what wonder, he had yet to discover.<\/p>\n \u201cSe\u00f1or? Le conoce<\/em>?\u201d the man who had brought him here anxiously asked.<\/p>\n Did he know him? Of course, he did! Adam laughed for pure joy. \u201cS\u00ed, s\u00ed. Le conozco. Es mi hermanito<\/em>.\u201d My little brother, risen from the dead<\/em>, he thought and blessed the boy\u2019s overworked guardian angels.<\/p>\n \u201cSu hermanito<\/em>? Gloria a dios, se\u00f1or<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Adam breathed. He was a man who carried his faith lightly, speaking less comfortably of it than his father or either of his brothers, but at this moment his heart was full of praise to God, and he was glad someone had voiced it.<\/p>\n More than one someone, for the room filled with excited voices echoing the praise and saying\u2014well, he had no idea what, but knew that they were sharing his joy. He felt like he was sealed within a giant bubble, just him and his resurrected little brother, while the rest of the world swirled in the mist beyond the thin membrane. And he was content to have it so.<\/p>\n The hubbub died down, as the mother shushed her children with reminders that someone was enfermo<\/em>. Joe, of course, Adam realized as she shooed them out. The sheltering bubble softly popped, and he began to explore his brother\u2019s injuries.<\/p>\n \u201cTenga cuidado, se\u00f1o<\/em>r,\u201d the man behind him said urgently.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat? S\u00ed, s\u00ed<\/em>.\u201d Impatiently, Adam waved aside the concern. Of course, he would be careful.<\/p>\n Gently, he lifted the bandages and examined the purpled flesh beneath them. The head wound was brutal and probably meant that Little Joe was not just sleeping, as he\u2019d hoped, but unconscious. He must have been semi-alert at some point, however, or he could not have called his brother\u2019s name. Adam was full of questions, but though he spoke Spanish fairly well, he wasn\u2019t familiar with even simple medical terminology. It wasn\u2019t the kind of thing the vaqueros from whom he\u2019d learned the language had much need to discuss.<\/p>\n As his probing hands moved down Joe\u2019s body, he saw more signs of the battering his brother had taken. He paused over the viciously mottled ribs and looked up to ask, \u201cRoto<\/em>?\u201d At least, he thought he remembered how to say \u201cbroken.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCreo que s\u00ed<\/em>,\u201d the man said, his face concerned.<\/p>\n \u201cHe needs a doctor,\u201d Adam said to himself and then to the man, in Spanish.<\/p>\n The man began awkwardly to apologize, saying something about there being no money for a doctor and having done the best he could.<\/p>\n Adam stopped him with a raised palm. \u201cPerd\u00f3name, se\u00f1or<\/em>,\u201d he said, suddenly realizing he hadn\u2019t even thanked the man for what he had done, and in halting Spanish, choosing his words carefully, he began to do so. The sacrifices this poor family had made to care for his brother were evident, now that he was awakened to them. They had obviously given up their very bed for Little Joe, for there was only one. Goodness only knew where the three boys slept. A trundle stored under their parents\u2019 bed, perhaps, as he and Hoss had once had under Pa\u2019s. And here Adam had not even asked the man\u2019s name. \u201cComo se llama<\/em>?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n \u201cManuel Mendoza, se\u00f1or<\/em>,\u201d the man said, smiling. He motioned his wife forward. \u201cY mi esposa, Margarita<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam smiled and nodded in greeting. \u201cY sus hijos<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n Manuel beamed his pride in his boys. \u201cMateo, Marcos y Lucas<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cY Juan<\/em>?\u201d Adam asked, laughing, as he pointed to Margarita\u2019s protruding belly.<\/p>\n Manuel began to laugh, too. \u201cS\u00ed, s\u00ed, pero creo que cuatro ap\u00f3stales ser\u00e1n suficientes<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam sensed that, for the blushing wife, namesakes for four apostles would also be enough. He felt a sudden stab of pain, remembering a long-past conversation with Joe about the Davis twins, who were also named for two of the gospel writers. Now, cherishing every reminder of his little brother, he regretted saying he was glad there weren\u2019t four of them. \u201cSomos tres<\/em>,\u201d he said, pointing first to himself and then to Little Joe. \u201cYo y Joselito y Hoss<\/em>.\u201d Seeing the puzzled look Manuel exchanged with his wife, Adam chuckled and translated his other brother\u2019s name. \u201cCaballo<\/em>,\u201d he said, \u201cporque es un hombre tan grande como un caballo<\/em>.\u201d It was the simplest explanation he could give for Hoss\u2019s nickname.<\/p>\n Everyone laughed then. Even the little boys giggled, and they were no longer strangers of diverse culture, but simply people who shared common bonds of family and, though the Mexican family did not yet realize it, of poverty. Adam had known it as a child and, having lost all he owned in the shipwreck, had felt its familiar pinch in Manzanillo. For himself, he wanted nothing more than what the generous men of the church had already provided, but for his brother, consigned to the deep and brought back to life by a merciful God . . . Joe should want for nothing human hand could provide, and if further divine intervention were needed, Adam wasn\u2019t too proud to ask it again. Yes, he\u2019d move heaven and earth to see that Joe survived. He repeated again that his brother needed a doctor and stood to leave in search of one.<\/p>\n Manuel quickly communicated that the hour was late; the doctor would not come so late in the day. In fact, he did not think he would come at all to such a place as this. They would have to take Joselito to el doctor<\/em>, if the boy could travel. He begged the se\u00f1or<\/em> to stay the night with them, though they had nothing worthy of such a fine gentleman.<\/p>\n Adam hated to impose, but since he still had no assets of his own, he had little choice but to accept the offer gratefully, and he did, with one stipulation. \u201cLlamame<\/em> Adam,\u201d he insisted. \u201cSomos amigos<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n Manuel and Margarita exchanged a hesitant glance, for the cultural divide between Mexican and gringo, rich and poor, was strongly rooted. Then an almost imperceptible nod passed between them, and the divide dissolved in friendship.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Adam had expected a simple meal of tortillas and the ubiquitous frijoles that were a main feature of every meal he had eaten in Manzanillo, but he had forgotten that this was Noche Buena<\/em>. On this night, even the poorest Mexican tried to make a special feast, and this supper was no exception. A goat had been slaughtered, and its tender, savory meat filled tamales, served with a spicy red sauce. In contrast, a dish of field greens, stewed with potatoes and cactus and a few shrimp, was served over rice and topped with a green mole sauce. The red and green colors of the two dishes heightened the festive Christmas spirit.<\/p>\n \u201cRomeritos revoltijos<\/em>,\u201d Margarita said in answer to Adam\u2019s question about what the green dish was. His Spanish wasn\u2019t up to a clear translation of that, but he gladly partook of the delicacy, sopping the juices up with a tortilla. There was a bean soup, as well, which Adam soon gathered had been prepared with Joe in mind. The beans would probably be too much for him, but the broth would be warm and nourishing, and Adam once again thanked Margarita for her thoughtful care of his brother.<\/p>\n \u201cDe nada<\/em>,\u201d she said, but it was far from nothing in his eyes. He remembered the Catholic tradition of a feast after midnight mass. Marie, with her French heritage, had called it le reveillon<\/em>, and had cherished its celebration. That this family would share it with him and even serve it earlier in the evening for his convenience was a great honor. They\u2019d probably given up the midnight mass for his sake and Joe\u2019s, as well, and for a devout Catholic family to do that touched him deeply.<\/p>\n As they ate, he learned how Manuel had found his brother and brought him home. Three days ago he had taken his sons to the seashore, some two miles away, to fish for shrimp in preparation for the romeritos<\/em> dish. Afterwards, as the boys were splashing in the waves, they had come upon the injured boy stretched on the sand. How long he had lain there, Manuel could not guess, but long enough for the sun to have blistered his back. He guessed, of course, that the boy must have come from one of the great passenger ships that passed so often, but in his isolated location, he had not heard of the loss of the Golden Dream<\/em> and assumed the boy had been washed overboard in some accident. Leaving his three sons to watch over the stranger, he had come back for a cart and brought him here. From that time to this, he had been caring for the boy, fearing to leave him and hoping, at least, to learn his name before going to town to report his discovery.<\/p>\n Joselito, as he now knew the boy was called, had been badly injured. He was burning with fever, regaining consciousness at long intervals, for only minutes at a time, and not until late yesterday evening had he begun to cry out for Adam. Then a man from a neighboring farm had passed by this morning and told him of the shipwreck, and he had decided to go to Manzanillo and seek among the survivors for this man Adam. When he came into town and saw the passengers boarding the ship, he\u2019d become frantic, fearing he had come too late and would never find the man he sought. \u201cPero Dios es bueno<\/em>,\u201d he said, gazing upward.<\/p>\n \u201cS\u00ed, bueno<\/em>,\u201d Margarita agreed, making the sign of the cross over her breast. The three stairsteps chimed in with their echo of God\u2019s goodness.<\/p>\n Adam still found it difficult to speak of such things, but a shiver ran down his spine. Minutes more and he\u2019d have been gone. He\u2019d have boarded that ship and left his Joselito behind, and the separation would have been, at best, long and, at worst, eternal. Alone and injured, among strangers whose language he could not speak, Little Joe might never have found his way back to them, if he\u2019d even survived. Manuel had arrived in the barest nick of time. Did any man need more miracle than that?<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n In the room beyond the doorway, a celebration had gone on, as simple gifts were exchanged and songs were softly sung to welcome the Christ Child to the world. It brought back sweet memories of early Christmases for Adam, when the gifts had been simple, homemade toys like the ones the three Mendoza boys exulted over and the entertainment had been acapella carols, followed by a bowl of popcorn and Pa reading the tale of Ebenezer Scrooge, as he still did each Christmas. He\u2019d been invited to join the family celebration, of course, with apologies that there was no gift for him. Apologies! When they\u2019d given him the best Christmas gift of his life? He wouldn\u2019t hear of it and tried to convey what he was feeling, discovering once again that what he\u2019d thought was a pretty good command of Spanish was inadequate to express all he wanted to say. They had understood, at least, the gist of what he meant, and they expressed, each in his or her own way, that, indeed, Joselito was a Christmas gift from God Himself.<\/p>\n Adam had tried to decline the offer of the trundle bed, but hospitable as ever, Manuel and Margarita had insisted on bedding their entire family on the floor in the other room. Remembering how he and little Hoss had shared a pallet by the fire when guests had to stay over, he hadn\u2019t put up much argument. It was how things were done in humble families like the Mendozas and the Cartwrights.<\/p>\n In honor of their sacrifice, he\u2019d made an attempt to sleep, once the celebration had subsided, but had eventually abandoned the effort in favor of sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his brother\u2019s hand. Probably more for his own sake than Joe\u2019s, although his brother seemed less restless whenever he was touched. No surprise there. He always had, even as a small boy, when Adam used to soothe him out of bad dreams by rubbing his chest. Given Joe\u2019s injuries, he hesitated to do that now and settled for his father\u2019s habit of circling a thumb on the back of his brother\u2019s hand, in hopes that Joe might think he was Pa and be drawn into full consciousness. So far, it wasn\u2019t working, and it was a growing concern.<\/p>\n As Adam yawned a third time in succession, he decided to give sleep another try. He was just slipping his hand from Joe\u2019s when the boy\u2019s fingers closed on his, and his heart leaped with hope. Joe was aware of his presence, then\u2014a very good sign! \u201cAll right, little brother,\u201d he whispered as he started the thumb circles again. \u201cI\u2019ll stay, but it\u2019s time you woke up.\u201d He put a little more pressure into the movement. In the dim light of predawn, he saw frown lines appear of his brother\u2019s forehead. His thumb grew heavier.<\/p>\n In another quarter hour, Joe began to moan and twist uncomfortably on the grass-stuffed mattress, and Adam encouraged him to wake, gently at first and then with increasing insistence. \u201cCome on, boy,\u201d he urged. \u201cDo you want to let the sun beat you up?\u201d In the darkness Adam shook his head at his own stupidity. When had Joe not wanted to let the sun beat him up? He wouldn\u2019t get through to the boy that way! He reached up and began to lightly slap his brother\u2019s cheeks, saying again and again, \u201cCome on, Joe; wake up. Hoss will steal all the biscuits.\u201d What he wouldn\u2019t give for Hop Sing\u2019s biscuits right about now! Preferably, without a side of frijoles.<\/p>\n Whether it was the threat to his biscuits or the persistent slapping, Little Joe\u2019s eyes fluttered and closed, fluttered and closed, and the moaning increased. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, little buddy,\u201d Adam said, \u201cbut you\u2019ve got to wake up!\u201d<\/p>\n The eyes opened again and stayed open, staring into the anxious hazel ones peering back into his. \u201cAd-Adam?\u201d Little Joe asked tentatively.<\/p>\n A grin stretched across Adam\u2019s face. \u201cI\u2019m here, little buddy.\u201d<\/p>\n Tears began to slip down Joe\u2019s cheeks as he stretched his trembling left hand toward his brother\u2019s face. \u201cAdam,\u201d he murmured. He smiled softly, and once again his eyes started to close.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, no, no,\u201d Adam said, slapping the damp cheeks. \u201cNot yet; not yet. Stay with me, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe gazed back at him with reproach, but the very irritation seemed to make him more alert. Then commotion erupted beyond the open doorway, and the three stairsteps burst through with shouts of \u201cJoselito est\u00e1 despierto<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n That brought a look of puzzlement to Joe\u2019s face, but it was semi-alert puzzlement. \u201cWhere?\u201d he asked. In the background Margarita was hushing her three rowdy boys with reminders that Joselito was not well.<\/p>\n Adam chuckled and gave the simplest answer possible, \u201cMexico,\u201d which produced a slight shake of the head. A mistake. Little Joe winced and reached for his bandaged head. Adam gently pulled the hand back. \u201cYou\u2019re hurt, Joe,\u201d he said. \u201cRemember?\u201d<\/p>\n Again, the head shook; again, a mistake. \u201cIt\u2019s all right; it\u2019s all right,\u201d Adam soothed, placing his hands on both sides of his brother\u2019s head to still it. \u201cYou\u2019re going to be all right, little buddy.\u201d And though Little Joe continued to frown, his older brother was all smiles.<\/p>\n \u201cLo siento, se\u00f1or<\/em>,\u201d Margarita said as she was herding the boys out of the room.<\/p>\n \u201cNo es nada, se\u00f1ora<\/em>,\u201d Adam assured her. There was, after all, every reason to celebrate, and the boys\u2019 commotion had helped keep his brother awake.<\/p>\n Manuel came in, again expressing thanks to God for returning Joselito to them. Then he asked hesitantly if Adam still wanted to take his brother to the doctor, reminding him that it was el d\u00eda de Navidad<\/em>.<\/p>\n Christmas Day. Adam hadn\u2019t put together until now that he\u2019d be asking for the doctor\u2019s help on a holiday. To Dr. Martin, back home, it wouldn\u2019t have mattered. Sure, he\u2019d regret the disruption of his own plans, but he\u2019d come, for any patient, not just close friends like the Cartwrights. From the little he\u2019d seen of the doctor in Manzanillo, he suspected he was a man of different caliber. He asked again if Manuel was sure the doctor would not come to them.<\/p>\n \u201cNo sin much dinero, se\u00f1or<\/em>,\u201d he was somberly told.<\/p>\n Money. Of course. That\u2019s what it would take to lure the doctor into the jungle, especially on Christmas, and he had no more of it than the couple who had so generously opened their home to two strangers. So, he\u2019d have to get Joe to Manzanillo somehow. Probably tomorrow.<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s wait awhile,\u201d Adam said, in Spanish he hoped he\u2019d translated accurately. He wanted time to evaluate his brother\u2019s condition and how well he might tolerate the journey. It couldn\u2019t be an easy one for someone injured. Manuel had mentioned a cart. Perhaps he could borrow that, but the journey would still be difficult for his brother. He thought Joe would benefit from a day\u2019s rest and some nourishment before facing that. Margarita had saved back some of the bean soup for Joe, and he hoped his brother would be up to eating it. He obviously wasn\u2019t even up to staying awake, and Adam decided to let him drift off. He\u2019d wake him in another hour, God willing.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Little Joe wasn\u2019t a bit happy with his brother for waking him again. He didn\u2019t understand why, when there were no chores waiting. He did, however, favor the tea the woman brought him. Though it didn\u2019t taste like what he was used to, it was sweet. Sweet was good. Sleep was better. He soon closed his eyes, and mercy upon mercy, Adam let him. His dreams were troubled, however, and he didn\u2019t much mind when Adam woke him again, though he couldn\u2019t remember what had disturbed him so much that sleep was no longer a haven.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Adam stayed by his brother\u2019s side throughout the afternoon, waking him every couple of hours. Thankfully, he could, for Joe was showing obvious signs of concussion. He had a raging headache, and he seemed confused about where he was and how he\u2019d gotten here. Though Adam didn\u2019t question him much, he sensed that his brother had little recollection of the ship\u2019s fire or the explosion that had hurled him into the water. Loss of memory wasn\u2019t uncommon with concussion, he knew from personal experience, and much as he wanted to learn how his brother had survived, what he had endured during the days they\u2019d been apart, he realized Joe just couldn\u2019t tell him, at least not yet. A couple of times he persuaded Joe to eat a little of the bean broth, but as usual when he was unwell, his brother had little appetite.<\/p>\n By nightfall, he thought it safe to let Joe sleep through the night. He wanted the boy well rested for tomorrow\u2019s journey. Exhausted himself, he pulled out the trundle and lay down. When Joe\u2019s hand dropped over the side of his bed, he instinctively took it and fell asleep, lightly clasping it in his own.<\/p>\n He slept past dawn, proving how tired he was, for the mattress was anything but comfortable. As he sat up, yawning and stretching, he looked first to his brother. Joe was still sleeping, though somewhat restless. Wanting to be with him when he woke, Adam slipped out to take care of his necessary morning business. At least, he tried to slip out. The whole family, with the exception of the youngest, had risen before him, so there was some boyish snickering by Mateo and Marcos, quickly rebuked by their mother, as he escaped out the front door with a slightly embarrassed smile.<\/p>\n When he returned from the nearest sheltering foliage, he met Manuel in the yard and asked if it would be possible to borrow the cart to take his brother to the doctor.<\/p>\n \u201cSeguro, se\u00f1or<\/em> Adam.\u201d No amount of urging had convinced Manuel to drop the se\u00f1or<\/em> in favor of just Adam, although his brother had been Joselito from the moment his name was known. Of course, he\u2019d been simply muchacho<\/em>, not se\u00f1or<\/em>, before that. To them, Little Joe was but a boy\u2014and how Joe would have hated that! But he was their boy, having been adopted by the Mendoza family, or perhaps in a fashion born into it, not by the water and blood of natural birth, but by water and fire.<\/p>\n Manuel said that he would have to milk the goats first, but they could be ready to leave any time after that. And, of course, the se\u00f1or<\/em> and especially Joselito would need to eat first.<\/p>\n Especially Joselito. Adam smiled slightly at the preference given his younger brother, but since he felt the same way himself, the smile was only a flicker. \u201cVa con nosotros, entonces<\/em>?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n \u201cClaro que s\u00ed<\/em>.\u201d Of course, he would come with them.<\/p>\n Adam warmly thanked him. For any working man, it meant sacrifice to give up a day\u2019s work, but what a gift to be guided back to Manzanillo. Adam thought he could find the way, so long as he didn\u2019t lose sight of the sun to point his way north, but there\u2019d been no clear path through the jungle, and he might have gone astray. For Joe\u2019s sake, he\u2019d be glad to have Manuel along.<\/p>\n Breakfast was some sort of porridge, Joe\u2019s portion well thinned with goat\u2019s milk, to make it easier for him. He still didn\u2019t eat much, but Adam coaxed several bites down before his brother completely balked. Shortly after the meal, they got underway. Just before loading his brother into the cart, Adam told him they were going to town and was rewarded with a spark of interest. Knowing his little brother\u2019s aversion to doctors, he\u2019d avoided that word altogether, rightly judging that a trip to town would be much more enticing. The cart was small, used more to take produce to market than to transport a man, but even with his legs folded up, Joe fell asleep again almost before they left the yard. Manuel led the burro and his oldest son Mateo scampered, proud and pleased, at his side, while his younger brothers wept into their mother\u2019s skirts, whimpering because they couldn\u2019t go, too.<\/p>\n Adam was surprised when Manuel led them to the west, instead of across the meadow, the way they\u2019d originally come. When he questioned it, however, his Mexican friend laughed and said, \u201cNo para el carro<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam shrugged. He, too, had thought that route would be rough going for the cart. \u201cHay otro camino<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cS\u00ed, s\u00ed, por el mar<\/em>.\u201d Manuel went on to explain that he had brought Adam by the quickest route before, but it was only possible for men on foot. While it was longer to go by way of the seashore, it was better \u201cpara Joselito<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam agreed. Anything that was better for Joselito was better for him, too.<\/p>\n Little Joe did not agree. When he woke and heard the roar of waves racing onto the sand, he became agitated and cried out for his brother. \u201cDon\u2019t go in the water,\u201d he pleaded. \u201cDon\u2019t take us in the water, Adam!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, no, of course not,\u201d Adam soothed. Whatever horror Little Joe had endured in the open sea was obviously still with him, whether or not he remembered it. With some difficulty he calmed his brother with repeated assurances that they would stay on the land. \u201cThe burro can\u2019t swim,\u201d he said with light humor. It probably wasn\u2019t even true, although he was sure the small animal would prefer dry ground, but it convinced Little Joe, further proof that the boy wasn\u2019t thinking too clearly.<\/p>\n Manuel hadn\u2019t understood their English conversation, and he looked gravely concerned. Adam explained that Joselito was disturbed by the water, understandable after the long time he\u2019d spent in it, but they would keep him safe. The simplified wording was for young Mateo\u2019s sake, for he, too, looked upset because Joselito was. \u201cC\u00e1lmate, amigo<\/em>,\u201d the small boy said, patting Little Joe\u2019s arm. Joe understood only the last word, but he smiled back at the boy, and as the cart rolled on, he again fell sleep.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Manzanillo seemed sleepy the day after Christmas. For Joe\u2019s sake, Adam was glad there were so few people milling about the plaza, so few gawking eyes to see their strange procession into town. Exhausted from the bumpy ride, Joe seemed to be sleeping, and that was providential. It put off his hearing the fatal word \u201cdoctor\u201d as they arrived outside the man\u2019s office. It couldn\u2019t be put off forever, however, for Adam was determined to carry his brother straight inside and, dinero<\/em> or no dinero<\/em>, demand medical care. With Manuel\u2019s help, he gently lifted Joe from the cart, not knowing whether to be grateful or concerned that he did not stir.<\/p>\n They entered the office, where an overweight and balding American stared at them. \u201cDr. Johnson?\u201d Adam asked, having heard his name from some of his fellow passengers from the Golden Dream<\/em>.<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Dr. Johnson said, adding bluntly as he looked at the barely clothed body in his visitor\u2019s arms, \u201cWho are you and what do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy name is Cartwright,\u201d Adam said. \u201cMy brother was injured in the shipwreck and . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe shipwreck!\u201d the doctor exclaimed. \u201cWhy did you not bring him to me before now?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t know he\u2019d survived,\u201d Adam said. \u201cWhere would you like to examine him?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat depends,\u201d Dr. Johnson said. He looked with disdain at Adam, who, though not as ill clad as his brother, looked as if he were wearing the castoff clothing of the Mexican peasant who had followed him in.<\/p>\n Adam noticed the scrutiny and had a pretty good idea what it conveyed. \u201cOn what?\u201d he demanded, barely keeping himself from snarling.<\/p>\n \u201cOn how you intend to pay for my services,\u201d the doctor stated plainly.<\/p>\n The snarl was close to breaking through Adam\u2019s gritted teeth. \u201cThe steamship company paid you for treating the other survivors, did they not?\u201d<\/p>\n The doctor\u2019s mouth curled derisively. \u201cA pittance. And I can\u2019t depend even on that, without prior authorization from the company. I take it you didn\u2019t obtain that before coming to me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d Adam\u2019s voice was a low and menacing growl.<\/p>\n \u201cMost unfortunate. I must insist that you attend to that before I examine your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam instinctively reached for his sidearm, to force the mercenary doctor to care for Joe, but when his hand hit his unholstered hip, he remembered that his revolver had been packed away in his trunk and now lay useless at the bottom of the ocean. Probably just as well, he concluded in a moment of grim logic. That approach would get him nothing but internment in a Mexican jail, which would leave Joe alone when he most needed his big brother. \u201cAll right,\u201d he said tersely. \u201cSurely, I can leave my brother here while I attend to that little matter.\u201d<\/p>\n Perhaps it was the fierceness in the gaze fixed upon his face, but the doctor, with a show of reluctance, gestured toward a room off to his left. Adam carried Joe inside, explaining to Manuel in hurried Spanish that he had to get permission from the steamship officials for Joselito to be treated. \u201cTe quedar\u00e1s con \u00e9<\/em>l?\u201d he asked in an undertone.<\/p>\n \u201cS\u00ed, mi amigo<\/em>,\u201d Manuel answered, also in a hushed tone. Of course, he would stay with Joselito, for though he hadn\u2019t understood the doctor\u2019s words, neither had he liked the way they were said.<\/p>\n With a disgusted glare at the doctor, Adam stalked from the office. He paused for a word with Mateo, to explain why his father was staying inside. Then, telling the boy to wait by the cart, he headed across the plaza to the office of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company. The brief conversation with the boy gave him a chance to bring his anger under control. No point, after all, in taking out his frustration on innocent employees at the steamship office, especially when he badly needed their help. He took a deep breath and, forcing a smile onto his face, opened the office door.<\/p>\n \u201cHello,\u201d he said. \u201cMy name is Adam Cartwright. I was a passenger on the Golden Dream<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n The young clerk stared at him, aghast. \u201cBut\u2014but, sir,\u201d he burst out. \u201cYou\u2019re not supposed to be here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I know,\u201d Adam said. He quickly explained why he was still here. \u201cSo you can add another to your list of survivors,\u201d he concluded, thinking that should be good news to the company, \u201cbut my brother is badly injured and in need of medical attention, for which the doctor\u201d\u2014he almost spat the word\u2014\u201cis demanding authorization from you before he will give.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFrom me, sir?\u201d the clerk sputtered.<\/p>\n With a slight roll of his eyes, Adam said, \u201cFrom the Pacific Mail Steamship Company. You are its representative?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, yes,\u201d the clerk said tentatively, \u201cbut not a senior one. I don\u2019t know that I could . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNow, look,\u201d Adam said, grabbing the young man by his linen lapels. \u201cI have just about had my fill of mercenary doctors and bureaucratic balderdash. My brother needs help; I can\u2019t pay for it because my available funds went down with your confounded ship. I\u2019m asking no more than you provided for other survivors and you will do the same for him!\u201d<\/p>\n He was shouting loud enough to bring another man to the door of the inner office. \u201cHere now,\u201d the man protested. \u201cWhat\u2019s the meaning of this? Unhand that boy!\u201d<\/p>\n With a gusty exhale, Adam did. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said, though his voice was still taut with frustration.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s from the Golden Dream<\/em>, sir,\u201d the clerk said, backing away from Adam.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d the other man cried. \u201cBut . . .\u201d<\/p>\n Adam lifted a silencing hand. \u201cI know; I shouldn\u2019t be here.\u201d He quickly explained again why he had remained behind and what he needed. \u201cNow, will you give me the company\u2019s authorization for my brother\u2019s medical care?\u201d<\/p>\n The second man, though clearly older and presumably senior to the young clerk, still looked hesitant, but finally said, slowly, \u201cI think I can do that much, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam sighed out his relief. \u201cIn writing, please,\u201d he said. \u201cI don\u2019t trust that doctor to take anything less.\u201d<\/p>\n The hesitance grew more pronounced, but after a lip-licking pause, the senior clerk agreed and demanded a sheet of paper from his young assistant.<\/p>\n Relieved of his main concern, Adam thought of another need he and Joe had. \u201cWe\u2019ll need shelter, as well. Since the other survivors are now gone, I presume there\u2019s room at the hotel for us?\u201d<\/p>\n The senior clerk looked up from his writing. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he said slowly and then drew himself up and wrapped the dignity of his office around him. \u201cThe company doesn\u2019t own the hotel, and since you would require accommodations for many days, that would involve a larger expenditure than I can authorize. If my supervisor were here, he might allow it, but I simply cannot.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd where is he?\u201d Adam demanded, his irritation visibly growing.<\/p>\n The clerk paled as he stammered out, \u201cIn Panama City. I\u2019m sorry, sir, but there\u2019s simply nothing I can do.\u201d With sudden inspiration, he straightened. \u201cYou didn\u2019t stay at the hotel before, did you, sir? I mean, most of the single men found quarters in the village, and I presume . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI stayed at the church,\u201d Adam interrupted impatiently.<\/p>\n The clerk brightened. \u201cIndeed! A perfect solution! The padre<\/em> is a good man, and the church can provide both food and shelter for you and your brother.\u201d Seeing that Adam didn\u2019t look nearly as appreciative of the idea as he should, the clerk swallowed hard and said, \u201cI\u2019m sorry, sir, but it is the best I can offer until my supervisor returns. I am already extending myself in offering medical care, but as that need is urgent, I\u2019m willing to risk it, but not for nonemergency services. What the church can offer may not be as luxurious as the hotel, but it will have to suffice. Beggars cannot be choosers, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n By the end of that speech, Adam was fuming, but short of pulling the loaded gun he no longer had, he saw no alternative but to throw himself on the mercy of the church once more. He couldn\u2019t afford to waste more time here; he needed to get back to Joe. \u201cAll right,\u201d he said, snatching the authorizing note from the clerk\u2019s hand. Turning, he stormed from the office.<\/p>\n \u201cOf all the high-handed, imperious . . . beggars, indeed!\u201d he muttered as he strode across the plaza. Financially, of course, he was a beggar, but a beggar who should have had some expectation of help from the company that had, although unintentionally, put him in that condition. It was no great hardship for him to stay with the priests again. For Joe, however, he preferred something more comfortable, and while from the impression he\u2019d gotten from fellow passengers, the hotel wasn\u2019t \u201cluxurious\u201d by any means, it had to offer softer beds than the ones in the friars\u2019 small cubicles.<\/p>\n As he reached the doctor\u2019s door, he paused to throw a smile to Manuel\u2019s eldest. Mateo was a good boy; he\u2019d stayed put, just as he\u2019d been told. Now, if it had been Little Joe\u2014the smile widened to a grin as he entered the office. The doctor sat at his desk in the reception area, basically twiddling his thumbs, obviously unwilling to exert the least effort in his patient\u2019s care without proof of payment. He confirmed that impression by asking, first off, if Adam had been successful. Phrased that way, it didn\u2019t sound quite as grasping as it actually was, but Adam didn\u2019t trust himself to answer verbally. Instead, he wordlessly handed the man what the senior clerk had written out.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t recognize this name,\u201d the doctor said, frowning at the signature. What he did recognize, however, was the dangerous glint in Adam\u2019s eye, and he immediately stood. \u201cWell, let\u2019s examine the patient,\u201d he said, moving toward the other room.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Hands . . . strange hands . . . touching him . . . everywhere. He didn\u2019t like the way they felt. He pulled away; the hands persisted. He wanted hands . . . just not these. What hands did he want? Pa\u2019s! But Pa wasn\u2019t here. Who was here, in this strange world of confusion and pain? There had been a hand he wanted, some familiar hand here with him. Adam\u2019s. That\u2019s the hand he wanted, the one that had led him through the darkness to a place he did not recognize, filled with chattering voices he could not understand, but that still felt safe. This place, these hands didn\u2019t feel safe. They . . . hurt . . . prodding his sore ribs. He cried out for the hands he wanted and heard his brother\u2019s voice, soothing.<\/p>\n He started to relax, in spite of the pain, when he heard another voice. Not like the soft, chattering voices he\u2019d heard before. This one sounded . . . irritated . . . maybe even mad? \u201cMost uncooperative patient,\u201d it was saying as the punishing hands manhandled his ribs. Did he need to be punished? Had he done something bad? Slowly, it registered. Patient. There was a patient . . . him? And patient meant doctor, and doctor was . . . no one he wanted!<\/p>\n Little Joe jerked into full consciousness with a cry of \u201cAdam!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m here, buddy,\u201d Adam called. He wanted to reach out and touch his brother, but the doctor was in the way.<\/p>\n \u201cDoctor,\u201d Little Joe whimpered. \u201cDon\u2019t want.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBe quiet, young man,\u201d said the voice that went with the cruel hands. \u201cKeep still.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf I could reassure him a moment,\u201d Adam said, \u201cit might make things go easier.\u201d For Joe\u2019s sake, he kept his voice calm, reasoning, when what he wanted to do was punch the man\u2019s lights out for his brutal examination. No, that wasn\u2019t fair. He hadn\u2019t been brutal, just professionally aloof, uncaring, and not particularly gentle.<\/p>\n \u201cBy all means,\u201d the doctor bit out, lifting his hands and backing away.<\/p>\n Adam moved to Joe\u2019s side. There! Those were the hands he wanted. Feeling safe at last, Little Joe opened his eyes. \u201cAdam,\u201d he whimpered. \u201cMake doctor go away.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam smiled. His brother sounded about four, making the same request he\u2019d probably make when he was sixty-four. \u201cSoon,\u201d he promised, \u201cbut you need help, little buddy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDoc Martin,\u201d Little Joe pleaded.<\/p>\n \u201cToo far away,\u201d Adam chuckled. \u201cPut up with this one a little while? For me?\u201d<\/p>\n It was the only appeal that would have worked. For Adam, he\u2019d put up with the strange hands . . . but only for a little while. Hearing the submissive sigh, Adam cupped his brother\u2019s cheek briefly and then stepped away. \u201cKeep your touch light, and he\u2019ll be less \u2018uncooperative.\u2019\u201d He advised the doctor.<\/p>\n With a look that said he appreciated interfering relatives about as much as he did uncooperative patients, the doctor resumed his examination. Upon its conclusion, he stepped back. \u201cHe has a serious concussion,\u201d he began.<\/p>\n \u201cCould we step into the other room?\u201d Adam growled with an anxious look at his brother.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, of course,\u201d the doctor said with a roll of his eyes. It wasn\u2019t, after all, an unreasonable request, even if it hadn\u2019t been standard practice in the New York City hospital where he\u2019d trained. He asked himself, scarcely for the first time, why he\u2019d let himself be lured from there to this God-forsaken tropical pesthole.<\/p>\n As they left the room, Manuel stepped to Little Joe\u2019s side and took his hand, whispering soft words which he could not understand, but in a voice he recognized . . . and trusted. Exhausted by the examination, Little Joe closed his eyes.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Adam carried his brother to the center of the plaza and set him on a bench beneath the shade of a palm tree, with Manuel sitting on one side to support him and Mateo taking up guard position on the other. The little boy could see that Joselito was hurting and blamed the doctor for it, quite justifiably, although some pain had probably been necessary. Still, Dr. Johnson, after confirming that the ribs were broken, had bound them particularly tight, and even breathing was painful now. \u201cVolver\u00e9 tan pronto como puedo<\/em>,\u201d he said to Manuel.<\/p>\n As he started to move away, a weak voice frantically gasped, \u201cA\u2026dam? Don\u2019t . . . go.\u201d<\/p>\n Squatting down to his brother\u2019s eye level, Adam repeated what he had said to Manuel. \u201cI\u2019ll be back as soon as I can, little buddy. I need to find us someplace to stay; then I\u2019ll be right back, I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe glanced between the Mexican father and son. \u201cWith . . . them?\u201d he suggested.<\/p>\n A twisted grin greeted the idea of making that long, bumpy trek back to Manuel\u2019s place. \u201cBetter in town, Joe, trust me.\u201d He patted his brother\u2019s thigh as he got up. \u201cI\u2019ll be back,\u201d he promised again. \u201cYou\u2019ll be safe with them.\u201d<\/p>\n Copying the gesture, Mateo began to pat his young friend\u2019s thigh. He didn\u2019t understand what the brothers had said to one another. He only knew that Joselito was upset, and he wanted to make it better.<\/p>\n Adam crossed the plaza, his pace growing faster and his spirit lighter with each step toward the church. He realized that he was moving toward the one place\u2014and the one man\u2014he most wanted to see, the place he\u2019d found peace and safety and the man who, more than any other, could share the wonder of the gift he\u2019d been given. Why hesitate to call it what it was?<\/em> he mused as he burst through the church doors. Joe\u2019s return was a miracle, nothing less, and the good padre<\/em> would be quicker to recognize it than Adam himself.<\/p>\n Decorum be damned, he thought as he raced toward the front of the sanctuary, calling loudly, \u201cPadre<\/em> Diego!\u201d<\/p>\n The priest turned from lighting a candle at the altar, and his face reflected his shock. \u201cAdam, my son,\u201d he said, moving down the aisle. \u201cWhy are you still here?\u201d They\u2019d said goodbye the day before yesterday, when with many words of thanks, Adam left to board the ship for home.<\/p>\n \u201cThe most wonderful thing has happened, Padre<\/em>,\u201d Adam said with a display of emotion totally foreign to his usual controlled demeanor.<\/p>\n The priest smiled then. \u201cTell me, my son,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Adam took a moment to catch his breath as he reached the priest. \u201cMy brother,\u201d he said, pausing for another breath and then finishing, \u201cHe\u2019s been found, Padre<\/em> Diego!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAlive?\u201d the incredulous priest asked. Having heard Adam\u2019s story before and seen his dejection, it seemed impossible, even for a man who believed in miracles.<\/p>\n \u201cAlive,\u201d Adam said, and against his will tears shimmered in his hazel eyes. \u201cBadly injured, but alive.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGod be praised!\u201d Padre<\/em> Diego exulted. \u201cHe is with the doctor?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d Adam almost spat the word. Then, calming himself, he explained that his brother had been seen by the doctor and was now resting in the plaza with the man who had found him. \u201cAnd, now, once again I am in need of your help, Padre<\/em>. We need a place to stay, and the hotel is not open to us.\u201d<\/p>\n He offered no details and the priest requested none. \u201cYou must bring him to us,\u201d Padre<\/em> Diego said at once.<\/p>\n Unbidden, the tears spilled over in the face of kindness after the bureaucratic stymying of the steamship company and the indifference of the doctor. \u201cThank you,\u201d Adam said over the choke in his voice. \u201cI\u2019ll get him.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe had finally succumbed to the sedative draft Dr. Johnson had administered and was sleeping with his head on Manuel\u2019s shoulder when Adam returned and explained that he\u2019d be taking Joselito to the church.<\/p>\n \u201cAh, bueno<\/em>,\u201d Manuel said.<\/p>\n \u201cS\u00ed, bueno<\/em>,\u201d Mateo echoed, causing both men to chuckle at his need to be just like his father.<\/p>\n With Manuel\u2019s help, Adam lifted Little Joe and carried him into the church, where Padre<\/em> Diego met him at the door. \u201cThe room where I slept before?\u201d Adam queried. There was only one bed there, of course, but he could sleep on the floor.<\/p>\n The priest smiled as he shook his head. \u201cWe will take him to the infirmary,\u201d he said, \u201cwhere Brother Tom\u00e1s will give him the tenderest of care.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI will care for him,\u201d Adam said, his voice respectful, but firm.<\/p>\n Padre<\/em> Diego\u2019s smile broadened to a grin. \u201cOf course, my son, but do not reject help. You must sleep and eat sometime, and Brother Tom\u00e1s is skilled in healing.\u201d<\/p>\n Like Brother Hoss. Adam hadn\u2019t been around Brother Tom\u00e1s as much as some of the other friars, but he\u2019d seen him in the refectory and knew he was a gentle soul. Adam relaxed and nodded, following Padre<\/em> Diego to a part of the church he\u2019d not been in before. Mateo started to join the procession, but his father pulled him back. It was a private place, he explained; it was time to let their Joselito go. They would stay for a word with the good father and, perhaps, a chance to say goodbye to their friend Adam, and then they would go home.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Adam eased his brother onto the narrow cot, one of four in the infirmary. He was glad to see that they were minimally more comfortable than the one he\u2019d had in the dormitory. The friars didn\u2019t cater much to the flesh, but apparently conceded the need of the sick to more restful quarters. He cast a wishful eye at the bed next to Joe\u2019s, not so much for the better mattress as for its proximity to his brother. \u201cCould I . . .\u201d\u2014he started to ask and then hesitated, fearing he might be stepping over a line. The priests had been kind and generous to him, but they did value their privacy in certain areas. This might be one of them.<\/p>\n \u201cSleep here?\u201d Padre<\/em> Diego finished for him. Lifting a finger to signal Adam to wait, he spoke briefly with Brother Tom\u00e1s and then said, \u201cYou may, my son, so long as the beds are not needed for the sick.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course,\u201d Adam readily responded. \u201cThank you.\u201d Then, since Brother Tom\u00e1s spoke no English, he nodded toward him and said, \u201cGracias<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI will leave you now,\u201d Padre<\/em> Diego said. \u201cI think, perhaps, Se\u00f1or<\/em> Mendoza wishes to make confession before he leaves. He usually does when he comes to town.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll come with you, to say goodbye,\u201d Adam said. \u201cGo easy on any penance for him, okay, padre? He\u2019s been an angel of light to us.\u201d<\/p>\n Padre<\/em> Diego laughed. \u201cI will keep it in mind,\u201d he said as they walked out together.<\/p>\n *****<\/p>\n Strange hands, touching him again. But these, unlike the doctor\u2019s, tended him with a tender touch. Uneasy at first, Little Joe relaxed under their ministrations, but they weren\u2019t the hands he wanted. Where was . . . then he heard his brother\u2019s voice, soothing him back to sleep, and he gladly went. The voice didn\u2019t match the hands, but as long as Adam was there, he\u2019d be all right.<\/p>\n He woke again, this time to daylight and saw his surroundings for the first time. He searched the long room for his brother\u2019s face and, not finding it, began to breathe rapidly. A man in a brown robe came to him at once, speaking words he could not understand, but they were softly spoken and he calmed somewhat, though his brow was still wrinkled with confusion. \u201cWho . . . you?\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n The friar didn\u2019t understand Joe\u2019s words, either, but some inner sense told him what the boy had asked. He laid his palm against his chest and said, \u201cHermano<\/em> Tom\u00e1s<\/em>.\u201d Then he smiled and pointed to Little Joe. \u201cY tu eres Joselito, s\u00ed<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n
\nEast, West: Home’s Best – The Westerners<\/a>
\nEast, West: Home’s Best – The Journey Home<\/a><\/p>\n
\nLittle Joe felt the ill will was his fault, but when he\u2019d tried to apologize for his behavior back in Boston, Adam had turned a deaf ear, so Joe had given up, resigned himself to the coldness between them and, being Joe, found other people to talk to.<\/p>\n
\nAdam contemplated his next move for several minutes. He\u2019d found an able chess opponent in James Addison, so he was having to give each move more thought than he normally did with anyone but Pa. Finally, he smiled with satisfaction and moved his knight into strategic position. Another three moves and he should have the black king in check. The traveling chess set was an early Christmas gift from his younger brother, who had presented it to him their first day out from New York City. Given their attitude toward each other of late, he\u2019d been stunned and hadn\u2019t known what to say, other than an unadorned thank you, of course.<\/p>\n
\nLittle Joe smiled victoriously as he drew the dark-haired beauty into an alley back of the plaza. He\u2019d been looking for an opportunity to break free from Adam, and the upheaval on the opposite side had provided it. At first, he concentrated on just mingling with the crowd, his shorter height being an asset, but once he was confident Adam wouldn\u2019t find him quickly, he turned his attention to finding a pretty girl such as he\u2019d dreamed of aboard ship. Thanks to his bothersome brother, he didn\u2019t have time to pick and choose, so he took the first one he spotted. She was doggone pretty, though, and pretty doggone willing, too. When she tried to \u201cgift\u201d him with a garland of flowers, he\u2019d said, \u201cI\u2019ll take four and give you a full dollar, if you\u2019ll throw in a kiss or two.\u201d And his smile was so friendly and charming that she\u2019d immediately taken his hand and led him to this secluded spot, and under the rising moon, she\u2019d wrapped her arms around his neck and given him full payment for his dollar\u2014and then some. He probably had only a half hour left, but he intended to milk it for all it was worth.<\/p>\n
\nHis first thought was to find his brother, but the pandemonium and press of the crowd was too great. Looking eastward, he estimated the ship was still miles from shore and knew the captain\u2019s hope of running aground was hopeless. The ship wouldn\u2019t last that long; the time to abandon her had truly come. Adam trusted the captain to make that decision, so he headed for the area from which the lifeboats would be launched, not to save himself, but to render assistance to all he could.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI\u2019m sure of one thing,\u201d Captain Lawson declared. \u201cYou and I are the last men aboard, and I can\u2019t leave until you do, Mr. Cartwright! Now, come on!\u201d He took his passenger\u2019s arm and propelled him to the front of the ship. \u201cClimb out on the bowsprit,\u201d he ordered, \u201cand watch for your chance to jump clear of the ship.\u201d<\/p>\n