Just A… Series<\/strong><\/p>\n Just A Little Disagreement<\/a> <\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Part 1: Dead Man\u2019s Hand<\/strong><\/p>\n Joe opened his eyes. The sun was lower than it should be, wasn\u2019t it? It was too dark. Almost dusk. The sun had been sinking when he\u2019d left the saloon, but this\u2026this shadowed sky told him he must have lost an hour or more. That sure didn\u2019t bode well for him. Closing his eyes again, he tried a few deep breaths and was relieved to find the fresh air easing the fog in his head\u2014even if that hole in his back screamed at him for the way his breathing scraped the open wound against something on the ground.<\/p>\n A twig<\/em>, Joe decided. Yeah. He must\u2019ve landed on a twig. That meant the best thing to do to stop all that scraping was to change positions. He would have to get up anyway. He couldn\u2019t get home if he couldn\u2019t get up.<\/p>\n Taking another breath, Joe rolled to his right side and was rewarded for easing the hurt in his back by waking up a whole new kind of hurt in his head. He gingerly raised his left hand to the worst of the pain near the base of his skull and discovered a wound he didn\u2019t remember getting. He\u2019d been shot in the back, so why was his head sore and bleeding?<\/p>\n Must\u2019ve landed on more than one twig, he told himself. Or maybe a rock. He supposed it didn\u2019t much matter, though. What mattered was the fact he needed to get himself moving so he could get help. Yep. He needed to get himself moving. But\u2026could he?<\/p>\n Moving sure wasn\u2019t easy with that hole in his back and his head throbbing so much he could almost believe the world had gone from dusk to midnight in the blink of an eye.<\/p>\n Then he blinked again and saw stars blinking back at him.<\/p>\n Damn<\/em>. He\u2019d lost more time. For a moment, Joe allowed himself to think maybe that wasn\u2019t such a bad thing. The later it got, the more his family would worry, and then they\u2019d come looking for him.<\/p>\n No, that wasn\u2019t right. No one was going to come. They expected him to stay late in Virginia City, and to maybe even stay the night.<\/p>\n It was kind of funny, in a way. This was the only time Pa had ever encouraged Joe to \u201chave a real good time\u201d and stay as late as he wanted. He\u2019d earned a night on the town for all the hard work he\u2019d done getting them horses ready for the army. But Joe hadn\u2019t<\/em> had a good time. And he\u2019d turned his back on trouble like Pa had asked him to. He\u2019d even left for home hours earlier than he\u2019d planned to leave, just to keep that trouble behind him.<\/p>\n It stayed behind him, alright. And then it shot him in the back.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Cochise wasn\u2019t moving. Joe kicked the horse\u2019s flanks\u2014or he tried to, anyway. His legs were so weak he doubted Cochise had felt a thing. Then Joe noticed they were standing next to the barn. Danged if that wasn\u2019t the strangest thing\u2026. He didn\u2019t need Cochise to go anywhere. He was already home.<\/p>\n He couldn\u2019t even remember mounting up, let alone riding home. What he did remember was finding his saddlebags open and empty of the winnings that had put trouble behind him in the first place\u2026<\/p>\n \u2026Trouble in the guise of a boney little hag of a man who\u2019d done nothing but complain from the moment he\u2019d joined Joe\u2019s poker game, uninvited, to the moment Joe had won the best hand he\u2019d ever seen.<\/p>\n That man had been like an old hag, alright. Didn\u2019t matter he was neither old nor female. He\u2019d spent the afternoon whining and nagging like a proper spinster. Joe\u2019d had a good laugh or two imagining that nagging hag in a bonnet and dress, but mostly he\u2019d just wanted to shut the wisp of a man up for good. One clean punch ought to have done it. But Joe had made a promise to Pa. There wouldn\u2019t be any fighting. And while some fights might be worth breaking such a promise, that hag wasn\u2019t worth anything at all.<\/p>\n So rather than staying to let his friends\u2014and maybe even that hag\u2014win back some of what they\u2019d lost, Joe had decided to take his unprecedented winnings and head home. He\u2019d turned his back on the trouble he knew would have been inevitable. If he\u2019d stayed for just one more beer, Joe\u2019s next hand of poker would\u2019ve ended with his fist aiming straight for Mr. Hag\u2019s hawk like nose.<\/p>\n Yep. Joe had turned his back on trouble. He sure hadn\u2019t expected it to catch up with him like it did, though.<\/p>\n Fortunately, all that trouble was behind him for good now, wasn\u2019t it? After all, he was home.<\/p>\n Groggy and dizzy, Joe slid off his saddle and onto his knees in the dirt, the odd dismount making Cochise whinny and shimmy backwards, indignant.<\/p>\n \u201cShorry,\u201d Joe slurred back at the animal, sounding\u2026and feeling\u2026like he\u2019d drunk his fill back at that saloon after all. He even smiled, preferring to imagine all he had to worry about was waking up with a hangover come morning\u2014since part of him was starting to worry about waking up at all. He figured if he lost any more time, he might never find it again.<\/p>\n Sure, Joe was home. But so far the only one who knew about that fact was him.<\/p>\n Cochise huffed, drawing Joe\u2019s attention.<\/p>\n Yeah, Cochise knew Joe was home, too. But Cochise wasn\u2019t going to do anything to help Joe, was he? Joe needed to let someone else know he was out there. He thought about shooting off his gun, but if Cochise was ornery already, that darned horse would be pure misery at the sound of a gunshot at this time of night. Besides, Joe didn\u2019t think that pulsing throb in his head would like it much, either.<\/p>\n His next best option was the bell on the porch. But, try as he might to aim himself in that direction, his half crawl, half walk kept him listing to the right until the front door was in front of him instead.<\/p>\n Joe almost laughed at that. In fact, maybe he did laugh. He really was feeling drunk.<\/p>\n Getting to his feet wasn\u2019t easy, but he managed to pull himself upright enough to trip the latch and push the door open.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s about time,\u201d Adam\u2019s voice called angrily from inside.<\/p>\n And Joe smiled again, grateful for the rescue that angry voice provided. \u201cAd\u2019m,\u201d Joe mumbled, blinking blearily at the black form he figured must be his brother sitting beside the ghostlike flames in the fireplace.<\/p>\n Adam closed the book in his lap\u2014at least, Joe thought it must be a book, although it sure looked like a small animal of some kind\u2026or a fish, seeing as how it seemed to be swimming through the flames beyond.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d Yup. That was Adam alright. But the question\u2026.<\/p>\n \u201cWrong?\u201d Joe should know the answer. So why couldn\u2019t he find it? Then his hand brushed the handle of his revolver and he forgot what he was looking for. He couldn\u2019t go inside wearing his gun belt like that. Pa didn\u2019t like them wearing their guns in the house. Maybe that\u2019s why Adam had sounded so mad a moment ago.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe?\u201d Adam was moving closer.<\/p>\n Aiming to place his gun belt on the bureau beside the door, Joe was surprised to discover it was already there.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat happened?\u201d Adam pressed.<\/p>\n Joe looked at his brother, confused. Then he remembered Mr. Hag. And the poker game. And the best hand he\u2019d ever played. \u201cI won,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n An instant later, Joe found himself in his brother\u2019s arms. And he knew time was slipping away again.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Part 2: The Draw<\/strong><\/p>\n When Joe opened his eyes, the sun was far too bright, so he closed them up tight again. But there was someone in his room. He could hear slow, steady breathing\u2026close to but not quite a snore. Where was he, to be sleeping in the middle of the day along with someone else doing exactly the same thing?<\/p>\n He opened his eyes more carefully this time, limiting himself to a small squint. So much for his first question. He was home, in his own bed.<\/p>\n Confused, Joe turned his head to look to his left. The motion triggered an explosion behind his eyes. Before he could even think about what was happening, he was bent forward and vomiting into a basin.<\/p>\n \u201cEasy, Joe,\u201d Adam\u2019s voice soothed while a warm hand clamped around his shoulder. \u201cI\u2019ve got you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWha\u2026.\u201d His own voice was little more than a breath, his words trapped by the rawness of his throat and the remnants of spent bile.<\/p>\n \u201cEasy,\u201d Adam repeated, rubbing Joe\u2019s back in small circles.<\/p>\n Joe heard a soft \u2018clank\u2019 as the basin was set aside. Then both of Adam\u2019s hands were pressing him gently toward his pillows again.<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s nothing to worry about,\u201d Adam said as Joe coughed weakly, awakening a searing pain in his back. \u201cYou\u2019re just going to have to take it slow for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe was still trying to comprehend what was going on when Adam\u2019s hand reached behind his neck, lifting him toward a glass that was set against his lips. \u201cTry some water. It\u2019ll help.\u201d<\/p>\n And it did, what little he was given. Joe swallowed it greedily, welcoming the feel of the fresh moisture in his throat.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s enough for now.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe wanted to grab the glass back again after it was pulled away, but his arms were too heavy. He simply couldn\u2019t raise them up high enough.<\/p>\n \u201cBetter?\u201d Adam asked.<\/p>\n Yes<\/em>, Joe wanted to say. Instead, he closed his eyes and lowered his chin in a brief, barely discernible nod.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe?\u201d Adam sounded\u2026different\u2026when he said Joe\u2019s name that time. Almost\u2026excited.<\/p>\n Joe pulled down his brows, as puzzled as he\u2019d ever been. He felt his brother take his hand, and that puzzled him all the more.<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, Joe. Show me you can hear me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy wouldn\u2019t\u2014\u201d The words scraped their way out and drew a fit of coughing in their wake. Adam helped him through it with gentle hands, soothing words and no small amount of shushing. Finally, as the pain subsided and breathing grew easier, Joe forced his eyes open again to find himself looking into his brother\u2019s.<\/p>\n Adam gave a relieved smile that little by little began to smooth out the creases in his brow. \u201cWelcome back.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBack?\u201d Joe asked softly, carefully, unwilling to start another round of coughing.<\/p>\n The creases returned. \u201cYou lost an awful lot of blood trying to find your way home, little brother.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe felt his own brow creasing.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you remember?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe rolled his head just a touch, as close as a shake as he dared.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do<\/em> you remember?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cH-hag,\u201d Joe said as he thought of the man who\u2019d ruined a perfectly good game of poker, despite the fact that he\u2019d helped Joe to win a bigger pot than ever before.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe felt the quirk of a smile form at the dumbfounded look that crossed Adam\u2019s face. \u201cDoesn\u2019t\u2026matter.\u201d He closed his eyes to focus on swallowing, eager to coat his throat with as much saliva as he could. \u201cI won,\u201d he added a moment later, opening his eyes again.<\/p>\n \u201cYes. I know.\u201d Adam didn\u2019t look too happy about it. \u201cBut can you tell me what happened after that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCame\u2026home?\u201d Joe tried to puzzle out the time between leaving the saloon and waking up in bed.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you remember what happened on your way home?\u201d<\/p>\n The pieces just weren\u2019t there. Frustrated, Joe found his breaths coming quicker, bringing with them a resurgence of pain in both his back and his head.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s alright, Joe.\u201d Adam squeezed his shoulder. \u201cYou\u2019re just tired. Get some rest. It\u2019ll come back to you when you\u2019re feeling better.\u201d<\/p>\n But would it? Joe found himself growing afraid. Something had happened. Something terrible, to have landed him there in his bed, too weak to even lift his arms. Why couldn\u2019t he remember? He had<\/em> to remember. He had to know!<\/p>\n It took a whole lot more of Adam\u2019s soothing words and gentling strokes to ease Joe\u2019s welling panic. But, after a while, he found himself drifting into a warm, quiet, comfortable place, one where he just didn\u2019t care whether he remembered or not.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Adam heard the door opening and hurriedly turned toward it, holding a finger to his lips. He met his father\u2019s gaze, recognizing the question he found there. A quick smile and nod told Pa all he needed to know.<\/p>\n An old Mexican had told Adam once that people tend to hold their worries and fears inside like newly formed bricks. They grow harder, heavier and more solid the longer they cure. Adam could believe that was true. He\u2019d seen it proven in the way he\u2019d watched his father and Hoss grow more tense with each passing hour, each passing day. The weight of their worries had forced taut shoulders downward and turned worn faces to stone. He\u2019d felt it in himself as well. But with that brief nod he\u2019d just given, that unvoiced answer to the eager question in his father\u2019s eyes, Adam was sure he saw a half-ton weight of bricks crumble right there in Joe\u2019s bedroom doorway.<\/p>\n Joe had not only come awake, he was aware. He was lucid.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have to be prepared, Ben<\/em>,\u201d Paul Martin had cautioned just yesterday. \u201cIf he does survive, between that head wound and the blood loss, there is a distinct possibility that his brain will have suffered some damage.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat kind of damage<\/em>?\u201d Pa had asked while Adam and Hoss had exchanged nervous glances.<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s no point to guessing. Let\u2019s just pray he wakes up soon. The sooner he finds his way out of this comatose state he\u2019s in, the better<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n And Adam had just witnessed Joe doing exactly that, finding his way out. He\u2019s awake<\/em>, Pa<\/em>, Adam\u2019s nod had said wordlessly. He\u2019s lucid<\/em>. For that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the fact that Joe\u2019s answer before collapsing three days earlier had focused on winning a game of poker rather than the hole in his back. Not the fact that Joe had said the word \u2018hag\u2019 for no apparent reason. Not even the fact that Joe now had no memory of the attack.<\/p>\n He\u2019s awake. He\u2019s lucid. And somehow Adam had to believe he was still the same Little Joe who had earned a night in town\u2014certainly a far better night than the one he\u2019d experienced.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did he say to you, Adam?\u201d Pa whispered harshly the instant Adam stepped into the hallway.<\/p>\n \u201cNot much, but\u2026Pa, he knew who I was and he knew where he was. I think he\u2019s going to be just fine.\u201d Adam\u2019s smile grew with the certainty of his words.<\/p>\n \u201cDid he say anything about what happened to him?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe couldn\u2019t.\u201d That was true, of course. \u201cNot really. It was hard for him to speak, between the pain and nausea.\u201d That, also, was true.<\/p>\n Pa nodded, his relief evident as more bricks crumbled away.<\/p>\n Adam gripped his arm. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you go in and sit with him awhile? I\u2019ll empty the basin and bring back some coffee.\u201d<\/p>\n When Pa nodded again and turned to enter the room, Adam figured he probably didn\u2019t trust himself to speak. But something changed by the time Adam retrieved the dirty basin.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d his father whispered. \u201cTell Hoss, would you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course.\u201d Adam almost started chuckling. He\u2019d already figured Hoss would have his hide if he delayed telling him Little Joe was on the mend.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n By the next morning, Joe was able to provide them with the man\u2019s name: Clayton Scott. He also eased Adam\u2019s mind by supplying a reasonable explanation for mentioning the word \u201chag\u201d when he\u2019d first come awake.<\/p>\n \u201cReminded me of\u2026an old hag,\u201d he said with an impish smile. \u201cAbout your age, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, thanks a lot!\u201d<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s grin widened even as his eyelids drooped lower. \u201cDon\u2019t mean it like that. He wasn\u2019t old. Just\u2026looked<\/em> like an old hag. Like\u2026one\u2019a them witches, maybe. You know\u2026bubble, boil and trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWarts and all?\u201d Adam asked, grinning back at him.<\/p>\n \u201cNo. Just\u2026hag-like.\u201d Joe closed his eyes again, his grin giving way to weariness.<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s faded, too, as he found himself realizing how close they\u2019d come to never seeing that grin again. \u201cYou think he\u2019s the one who did this to you?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s lips quirked up in a brief smile that was gone almost as fast as it had come. \u201cMan like that\u2026he\u2019s a back-shooter for sure. Too\u2026yellow<\/em> to call someone out.\u201d<\/p>\n Two hours later, Sheriff Roy Coffee confirmed Joe\u2019s story. \u201cA man named Clayton Scott,\u201d he said, taking a seat in the great room while Hop Sing scurried out of the kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee. \u201cHe\u2019s why Joe left early that night, according to Mitch and Seth, and about a half dozen other fellas.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Pa nodded. \u201cThat\u2019s what Joe told us this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe did, did he?\u201d Roy smiled. \u201cI sure am glad to hear he\u2019s gettin\u2019 better, Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHop Sing glad, too,\u201d Hop Sing added as he poured out four cups. \u201cNo more food go to waste. Cook too much. Not even Mistah Hoss eat.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou can bet I\u2019m hungry now, Hop Sing!\u201d Hoss threw back at him. Standing by the fireplace, Hoss looked almost as though he was ready to personally escort Hop Sing back into the kitchen. \u201cTruth is, I\u2019m downright famished. Think maybe ya\u2019 could bring out some sandwiches?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCook, cook, all time cook. No time anything else. Mistah Hoss eat. Hop Sing cook.\u201d Shaking his head, Hop Sing turned abruptly to return to the kitchen, muttering a flurry of words in Mandarin.<\/p>\n While Adam welcomed the comforting familiarity of Hoss\u2019s appetite and Hop Sing\u2019s current attitude\u2014so different from the unsettling silence of previous days\u2014he recognized something else that remained disturbingly unsettled. \u201cThe men you talked to, what did they have to say about this Scott fellow? What did he do to get Joe to abandon his night out?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNothin\u2019,\u201d Roy answered, \u201cexcept argue and complain about every little thing everybody did. I don\u2019t think there was a man in that saloon who didn\u2019t want to throw Mr. Scott right out into the street. Mitch told me Joe left \u2018cause he knew if he didn\u2019t he\u2019d a\u2019punched that fella right in the nose.\u201d<\/p>\n A loud sniff turned Adam\u2019s attention to his father. \u201cJoe left to avoid<\/em> trouble?\u201d Pa asked.<\/p>\n \u201cLooks like.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss stepped closer, resting his hand on the back of Pa\u2019s chair. \u201cSo there weren\u2019t no fight before<\/em> Joe left?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Hoss, there wasn\u2019t. But a whole saloon full of witnesses saw this Scott fella leave right after Joe did. An\u2019 he was mad as a wet hen for losin\u2019 all his money.\u201d<\/p>\n Nodding, Pa took a deep breath and a small sip of coffee. \u201cGood. I imagine the trial will be quick.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, Ben. There won\u2019t be a trial. Leastways, not based on what we got now. I said they saw him leave. I didn\u2019t say they saw him shoot Little Joe\u2026or take the money out of Joe\u2019s saddlebags.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou must have at least questioned this Mr. Scott,\u201d Adam demanded.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2019Course I did. Especially when I found out he got into another poker game the very next day, with money he said he didn\u2019t have after the game with Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLet me guess,\u201d Adam said through half-clenched teeth. \u201cHe said he had extra money stashed away somewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss looked half ready to go after Clayton Scott himself. \u201cHe had it stashed, alright. In Little Joe\u2019s saddlebags!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAin\u2019t nothin\u2019 but hearsay,\u201d Roy grumbled. \u201cYou all know that as well as I do. No one saw him, Hoss. No one saw him shoot Little Joe. No one saw him take the money. No one even saw him leave town after he walked out\u2019a that saloon that night. We got no witnesses and no evidence.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about the bullet Paul Martin dug out of Joe\u2019s back?\u201d Adam asked.<\/p>\n \u201cMust be a hundred rifles in Virginia City could\u2019a fired that bullet. Ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 special about it or<\/em> Mr. Scott\u2019s rifle.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen find something else!\u201d Adam shot back angrily.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam,\u201d Pa cautioned before looking pointedly at Roy. \u201cWe\u2019ll just have to keep looking, then. Won\u2019t we?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI ain\u2019t givin\u2019 up, Ben. But if he decides to leave Virginia City tomorra\u2019, an\u2019 I still don\u2019t have anything more than a bunch a\u2019guesses, I can\u2019t stop him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe you<\/em> can\u2019t,\u201d Adam said without thinking.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam!\u201d Pa scolded. \u201cThat\u2019s enough!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBetter mind what you do, son,\u201d Roy added. \u201cI\u2019d like to hear you promise your pa and me, both, that you won\u2019t go off half-cocked.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam forced a cold smile. \u201cI assure you that won\u2019t happen.\u201d He meant it, too. After all, nothing worth doing was worth doing halfway.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n \n Part 3: Dealer\u2019s Choice<\/strong><\/p>\n Armed with a name and description, Adam and Hoss followed Sheriff Coffee\u2019s visit by making a trip of their own to Virginia City. Once there, they avoided the sheriff at every turn\u2014as though they were criminals themselves.<\/p>\n \u201cIf I didn\u2019t know any better,\u201d Hoss complained, \u201cI\u2019d think you were gettin\u2019 ready to do somethin\u2019 you oughtn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen I\u2019m glad you know better,\u201d Adam answered with a small grin. \u201cI just don\u2019t want Roy to think<\/em> we\u2019re planning to do something we oughtn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJust what are<\/em> we plannin\u2019 to do?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam sighed. \u201cI don\u2019t know yet. But we\u2019ll think of something.\u201d<\/p>\n Whatever they were going to do, they first had to find this Clayton Scott. Adam needed to get a look at him. A real good look. Enough of a look to help him figure out just what they could do to make the man pay for what he\u2019d done.<\/p>\n Leaving their horses near the mercantile, they walked four blocks with Hoss taking one side of the street and Adam the other, looking in every store window and stopping at every saloon. They typically went inside together. It was easier to pair up while weeding through the boisterous crowds for a face they knew only by description. But as they started to approach The Broken Barrel, Adam held back.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/p>\n \u201cHave you ever been inside?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNah. Nothin\u2019s ever goin\u2019 on in there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, there isn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYa\u2019 think we\u2019d be wastin\u2019 our time goin\u2019 in now?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cQuite the contrary.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWouldn\u2019t you say it\u2019s the kind of place where you might find a man who\u2019d already lost as much as he could afford to lose?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss chewed the inside of his cheek, glancing toward the swinging doors. \u201cI reckon so.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo me a favor and stay outside,\u201d Adam suggested.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause I\u2019m starting to get an idea, and it won\u2019t work if he sees us together right now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat sort of idea?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll tell you later.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAdam<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n He ignored his brother\u2019s whispered shout and stepped through the doors. A dusty piano sat quietly in the corner, and an equally dusty looking woman was taking her time wiping the counter of the bar. But Adam\u2019s attention was quickly drawn to a short, frail-looking, boney man with a hawk like nose and effeminate features\u2014and he knew he\u2019d just found Clayton Scott. Seated by himself at a table facing the street, Scott looked up eagerly to see who was coming in; then he curled his nose and returned his attention to his beer. Apparently, Adam didn\u2019t meet his expectations.<\/p>\n Unfazed, Adam strolled to the bar to order a beer for himself.<\/p>\n \u201cWe got stew in the back if ya\u2019 like,\u201d the woman said, pushing a strand of half-black and half-white hair behind her ear.<\/p>\n \u201cBeer\u2019s fine, thank you.\u201d Adam glanced quickly behind him, glad to see that Hoss had not followed him in. When he took a sip from the mug the woman gave him, he was even gladder he\u2019d turned down the stew. He didn\u2019t dare ask for whatever they might consider whiskey. Rotgut would probably be an improvement. But he hadn\u2019t gone in for either refreshments or entertainment. He\u2019d gone in for Clayton Scott.<\/p>\n Adam watched the man for a moment and decided Joe\u2019s use of the word \u201chag\u201d fit him well. Too well. Every moment of the past few days suddenly flooded Adam\u2019s thoughts, from the instant Joe had stumbled through the door at home to when his eyes had finally slid open, bloodshot, glassy, but aware.<\/p>\n They\u2019d spent three days at Joe\u2019s bedside, not sure whether he would survive. And that miserable hag of a man was to blame. Adam knew it. Sheriff Coffee knew it. Everyone knew it. They just couldn\u2019t prove it. Suddenly, standing there at the bar and watching that hag casually sip his bitter beer, the grand idea that had struck Adam only moments before lost all value to him. It would feel so much better to draw down on Clayton Scott and shoot him in the heart, face-to-face, like Scott had been too cowardly to do when he\u2019d shot Joe.<\/p>\n But Joe was healing. They\u2019d come horrifically close to losing him, but he was<\/em> healing. And Adam had no intention of putting Joe\u2014or Pa or Hoss\u2014through the inevitable effects of careless vengeance by landing himself in prison or the grips of a hangman\u2019s noose. No. There was a better way. There had to be.<\/p>\n Sighing, Adam took another sip, forgetting what was in his glass until the foul tasting liquid was already in his mouth. After forcing a swallow, he asked no one in particular, \u201cWhen\u2019s the excitement start around here?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYa\u2019 mean \u2018where<\/em>,\u2019 don\u2019cha?\u201d An old man in a tattered hat answered. \u201cYa\u2019 want excitement, try the Silver Dollar.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAlready tried my luck there and a half dozen other places, including the Bucket of Blood.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen I guess yer luck\u2019s run out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Adam said thoughtfully. \u201cI suppose it has.\u201d<\/p>\n But judging from the attention Clayton Scott was paying that insignificant conversation, Adam was starting to wonder if his own luck\u2014or Joe\u2019s\u2014was just beginning. He absently swished the liquid around the sides of his mug. \u201cI guess that means it\u2019s time to move on. I hear Swift\u2019s Station should be good for a game.\u201d<\/p>\n The old-timer chuckled. \u201cMister, Swift\u2019s Station ain\u2019t but a wagon stop. You\u2019ll be lucky to find a deck\u2019a cards, let alone a good game.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat was before Dirk Devereux settled nearby.\u201d<\/p>\n Someone guffawed, calling Adam\u2019s attention to a dark bearded man sitting almost directly across from where he stood. \u201cDevereux?\u201d the man asked, the skin around his eyes crinkling to provide evidence of the smile hidden behind thick whiskers. \u201cAin\u2019t ya\u2019 hear\u2019d he set down roots?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam let the corners of his mouth quirk upward. \u201cFunny thing about roots: they can choke the life right out of a man if he doesn\u2019t cut himself loose once in a while.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHis woman\u2019ll pound him from here to Sunday if she sees him even lookin\u2019 at a deck\u2019a cards.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA man like Devereux can handle his woman.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou talk like you know him.\u201d Now it was the man\u2019s forehead that crinkled.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve played at his table a time or two.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou think you kin git him t\u2019play?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam took another unpleasant swallow, and then set the mostly full mug back on the counter. \u201cI\u2019m sure of it.\u201d Moving toward the entrance, he turned to tip his hat. \u201cGentleman,\u201d he said in farewell, allowing his gaze to sweep the tables once more. This time, Scott\u2019s eyes locked onto his. The man\u2019s expectations regarding Adam had clearly changed.<\/p>\n And Adam\u2019s idea seemed to be setting down some roots of its own. Now all he needed to do was to encourage a former card sharp by the name of Dirk Devereux to not only get back into the game, but to play it as he\u2019d never played before.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n If Adam was going to get this new idea of his to work, he and Hoss had to hit the trail quickly. There wouldn\u2019t be time to go home first, so Adam paid an eager youth to deliver a hastily written note to his father and Joe. Stopping next at the bank, he made a withdrawal large enough to prompt questions from the bank manager; but he wasn\u2019t inclined to give an answer other than to say he was about to take advantage of a highly valuable investment opportunity.<\/p>\n \u201cOh?\u201d The manager\u2019s eyes widened. \u201cYou know we\u2019re always interested in sound investments.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t say it was sound. I said it was valuable.\u201d Adam nodded in farewell and turned away, leaving the would-be financier huffing in bewilderment.<\/p>\n After securing the cash in his saddlebags, he threw the bags over his shoulder and asked Hoss to pick up some supplies while he made one more critical stop.<\/p>\n \u201cI ain\u2019t leavin\u2019 you alone carrying all\u2019a that,\u201d Hoss countered.<\/p>\n \u201cFine,\u201d Adam sighed, not wanting to waste time arguing. \u201cWalk with me to the sheriff\u2019s office then. After you\u2019ve got everything, meet me back there.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam was anxious to get moving. The thought of having to wait for Hoss was frustrating; but as it turned out, the opposite proved true. Hoss walked in before Adam had finished persuading Sheriff Coffee to go along with his plan.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat if he don\u2019t take the bait?\u201d Sheriff Coffee argued.<\/p>\n \u201cHe will,\u201d Adam said tightly, glancing at his brother in greeting.<\/p>\n \u201cIf he don\u2019t, and somethin\u2019 happens here while I\u2019m gone\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClem can handle it. He\u2019s done it before.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure, he has\u2014when I had real business to attend to. But if I go off on a fool\u2019s errand an\u2019 the citizens of Virginia City suffer the consequences, I\u2019ll have the devil to pay an\u2019 you know it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot you, Roy. Me. I\u2019ll take full responsibility.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not you them folks\u2019ll be votin\u2019 against come the next election.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNor will they be voting against you. Not if you put that man behind bars. You said yourself half the men who were in that saloon the other day believe he tried to kill Little Joe. All I\u2019m asking is that you let us prove it.\u201d<\/p>\n Roy\u2019s arguments grew weaker after that, and it wasn\u2019t long before he decided to give it a shot. \u201cI\u2019ll keep an eye on him,\u201d the sheriff said gruffly, \u201can\u2019 if he rides out, I will, too.\u201d Shaking his head, he added, \u201cYou\u2019d better make this work, Adam Cartwright, or\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know,\u201d Adam threw up both hands, palms forward. \u201cOr I\u2019ll have the devil to pay.\u201d<\/p>\n But the only devil in this game would be Clayton Scott, himself. And Adam vowed that his payment would be tendered in irons.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n Night had settled in around them by the time Adam and Hoss reached Swift\u2019s Station, a small collection of buildings on the Overland route to California. The hotel was never empty and the bar, never dry. But as those dusty saloon patrons had pointed out back in Virginia City, it wasn\u2019t the kind of place a man could expect a good game of cards.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat if we can\u2019t find this Devereux fella?\u201d Hoss asked, yet again.<\/p>\n \u201cMister Swift will know where to point me come morning.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou? What about me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re going to stay here and keep an eye out for Scott.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss sighed. \u201cI reckon someone has to,\u201d he said, resignedly. \u201cOnce you find Devereux, what do we do if he don\u2019t agree to play?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019ll play.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow can ya\u2019 be so sure?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam grinned. \u201cI understand he\u2019s in the market for a good seed bull.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe happen to have one available.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou think he\u2019ll play because yer gonna sell him a bull?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know<\/em> he\u2019ll play because I\u2019m going to give<\/em> him that bull if I have to.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss\u2019s eyebrows shot up and then dropped down again just as quickly, his eyes narrowing into slits. \u201cI don\u2019t think Pa\u2019s gonna be too happy about that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEven if it lands Clayton Scott behind bars?\u201d<\/p>\n Cocking his head in consideration, Hoss finally nodded. \u201cI reckon he wouldn\u2019t mind so much, after all.\u201d<\/p>\n That was the last normal conversation the brothers would have until Adam\u2019s plan played itself out. \u201cRemember,\u201d he told Hoss before they separated for the remainder of the night, \u201cScott can\u2019t know we\u2019re together.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2019Least let me take the livery,\u201d Hoss replied. \u201cYou\u2019re almost as scrawny as Joe. You could use a mattress under you a whole lot more\u2019n me.\u201d<\/p>\n Giving his brother a genuine smile, Adam shook his head. \u201cI\u2019m the one who\u2019s supposed to be down on his luck. That means all I can afford is to sleep with the horses.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about supper?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t you worry about me. Just order what you want and eat your fill. I have a feeling it\u2019s going to be a particularly long day tomorrow. You might need your strength.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou might need your own strength to keep me from wrappin\u2019 my hands around that little fella\u2019s neck.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf this doesn\u2019t work, I\u2019m apt to squeeze his neck myself. And I won\u2019t need a big meal to do it, either.\u201d When a long sigh turned into a yawn, Adam added, \u201cI\u2019m more tired than hungry, anyway. I haven\u2019t slept well since\u2026.\u201d He didn\u2019t bother to finish his sentence.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Hoss nodded. \u201cMe, too.\u201d<\/p>\n Barely more than an hour later, Adam spread his bedroll out over a pile of hay, closed his eyes\u2026and slept straight through to dawn.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n \n Part 4: The Bluff<\/strong><\/p>\n The sun hadn\u2019t been up for more than an hour, but Dirk Devereux was already working. Much to Adam\u2019s surprise, he was in the barn when Adam arrived.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam Cartwright?\u201d Devereux asked, dropping the tack he\u2019d been carrying. A look of surprise lifted his brows. \u201cTo what do I owe the pleasure?\u201d He slipped off his gloves and reached forward to take Adam\u2019s hand in greeting.<\/p>\n For a man who was supposed to have given up cards in favor of ranching, Dirk Devereux\u2019s hands were remarkably free of callouses. Nor could Adam see a speck of dirt beneath the man\u2019s fingernails. \u201cI hear you need a bull.\u201d<\/p>\n Dirk cocked his head, appraising Adam\u2019s statement. \u201cThe Ponderosa must have fallen on hard times if you need to travel around trying to sell off your stock.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam grinned. \u201cI don\u2019t need to sell the bull, but I understand you\u2019re in the market for one. And I thought perhaps we could strike a deal.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA deal?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI have a favor to ask. It involves no risk on your part.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo risk, eh? If I didn\u2019t know better, I\u2019d think you\u2019ve taken up gambling. Has that little brother of yours turned into a bad influence? I thought it was supposed to work the other way around.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat little brother of mine was almost killed a few days ago.\u201d<\/p>\n Dirk was silent for a moment, his eyes studying Adam\u2019s. \u201cPlease don\u2019t tell me someone accused him of cheating. I taught the boy better than that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe wasn\u2019t cheating. He\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d a woman\u2019s voice called out from the house. \u201cAdam Cartwright? Is that you?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam turned to see a red-headed woman in a flowered dress and white apron hurrying toward him. He almost didn\u2019t recognize her without rouge on her cheeks. Her lips, also, were naturally pink, almost pale. It suited her. Adam had never seen her looking more beautiful. \u201cHello, Betty,\u201d he greeted, smiling warmly.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy, what brings you out this way?\u201d She fumbled to capture stray strands of hair and slip them back into the pins they\u2019d fallen from. \u201cI sure wish I\u2019d have known you were coming. I would have\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHold your tongue, woman!\u201d Dirk chided. \u201cYou\u2019re all mine, now. I won\u2019t have you primping for this cowpoke<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n She slapped his arm. \u201cI was going to say I would have baked a pie.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a little early for that,\u201d Dirk asked. \u201cIsn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n But Adam was more taken by another aspect of what she\u2019d said. \u201cYou bake pies now?\u201d<\/p>\n She rolled her eyes. \u201cI\u2019m learning.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe bakes wonderful pies,\u201d Dirk said then, his eyes shining with admiration. \u201cIf you stick around long enough, maybe you\u2019ll get the chance to taste one.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnother time, perhaps.\u201d Adam\u2019s smile faded. \u201cI really do need your help.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong, Adam?\u201d Betty asked.<\/p>\n \u201cHe said Little Joe was almost killed,\u201d Dirk answered before turning his attention back to Adam. \u201cAm I right to assume this favor you need has something to do with that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt does. Joe was shot in the back while riding home from Virginia City.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSounds like a common\u2014if cowardly\u2014highway robber. How on earth would that bring you to me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe know who did it, but we can\u2019t prove it. That\u2019s where you come in. I need someone to help us stage a poker game.\u201d<\/p>\n Betty\u2019s eyes turned cold. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t play anymore,\u201d she said tightly.<\/p>\n \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd I don\u2019t stage<\/em> games, either. That would mean cheating, and I don\u2019t cheat.\u201d Dirk glanced sideways to see Betty\u2019s rather unpleasant glare. \u201cI didn\u2019t, that is. When I played. Which I don\u2019t, anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam nodded. \u201cBut you do know how to deal cards in a way that ensures the right ones go to the right people?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat is what they call cheating. Which I do not do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut you know how.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause it helps me to know when someone else is cheating. Or rather\u2026it did. When I played.\u201d He threw another glance at Betty.<\/p>\n \u201cI assure you, this won\u2019t be a real game. We just need to make it look like one.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy all the subterfuge?\u201d Dirk asked.<\/p>\n \u201cBecause it\u2019s the only way to get that back-shooter to prove he\u2019s the one who put that bullet in my brother\u2019s back.\u201d<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n As it turned out, Adam got a package deal. Dirk and Betty, both, arrived at Swift\u2019s Station just after two in the afternoon, fully outfitted. Dirk wore his dapper suit, the pocket fitted with a fancy watch on a fine gold chain. Betty had on a familiar emerald green dress with black trim and tights.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m amazed it still fits,\u201d she giggled when Adam met them in front of the hotel and remarked on how stunning she looked\u2014although he\u2019d truly preferred her in the much simpler and slightly dusty flowered dress he\u2019d seen her in that morning. \u201cAnother week or two and I\u2019m sure the buttons won\u2019t even close.\u201d She giggled again. \u201cIf they did they\u2019d probably pop a minute later.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s eyes widened as he caught the meaning behind her words. \u201cAre you saying you\u2019re\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n She nodded, grinning widely.<\/p>\n \u201cYou really are<\/em> settling down,\u201d Adam said to Dirk.<\/p>\n \u201cDid you think you were calling my bluff?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know better than to do that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ll see this afternoon, my friend,\u201d Dirk winked.<\/p>\n \u201cScott\u2019s inside, already,\u201d Adam said, getting serious again. \u201cHoss pulled him into a game almost as soon as he arrived; although the stakes are far lower than you\u2019re used to\u2014for now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell change that soon enough. Let\u2019s get started, shall we?\u201d<\/p>\n Inside, Hoss was sitting at a table with Clayton Scott and two others\u2014transients, by the look of them. Adam doubted they would play long, especially once Dirk stepped in. Watching from the shadows by the door, Adam saw concerned glances pass between them as Dirk pulled a chair over to their table. \u201cMind if I join you?\u201d Dirk asked, clearly not caring what answer might be given.<\/p>\n \u201cGlad to have ya\u2019, friend,\u201d Hoss greeted, handing him the deck of cards. \u201cHow \u2018bout you cut \u2018em for a start?\u201d<\/p>\n Dirk nodded. \u201cI\u2019m a little rusty, I\u2019m afraid.\u201d But he didn\u2019t just cut the deck. He rolled the cards around his fingers like they were an extension of his hand, folding them in and out so fast Adam couldn\u2019t imagine how he could know where any one in particular might land.<\/p>\n That was all the incentive the transients needed to get back on the road.<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, Jack,\u201d one said to the other. \u201cWe don\u2019t hit the trail now, won\u2019t have a dime left between us tomorra\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n Clayton Scott, however, looked like he was ready to start salivating. He was hungry for a game. For a real<\/em> game, the kind of game only a man like Dirk Devereux could give him.<\/p>\n Adam watched the transients step outside; and then, pulling in a long, deep breath in preparation, he decided that was his cue. \u201cLooks like you could use another player,\u201d he said, taking one of the newly vacated chairs.<\/p>\n XxXxX<\/p>\n The poker game lasted the rest of the afternoon\u2014an afternoon that might just have been the longest of Adam\u2019s life. Clayton Scott was an annoyingly talkative fellow, and mostly what he talked about was how much he deserved to win. He kept saying he\u2019d earned the right to win, after having lost so many times in a row. But Adam doubted Scott had ever<\/em> won a game, considering how poorly he played. In fact, it was hard losing to the man. If it hadn\u2019t been for the careful dealings of Dirk Devereux, he was fairly certain neither he nor Hoss would have been able to lose to Clayton Scott.<\/p>\n Of course, losing wasn\u2019t the ultimate goal, however. Clayton Scott had to be played even more than the cards on that table. He had to have his sights set on winning. He had to be convinced he was going to win…right up until the money piled in the center\u2014along with Dirk Devereux\u2019s gold watch\u2014was enough to make even a wealthy man drool.<\/p>\n \u201cYahoo!\u201d Hoss exclaimed as he pulled all that money toward him. \u201cI ain\u2019t never won a pot like this my whole life. I reckon that\u2019s a good reason to call it a day. Momma always told me it\u2019s better to quit while I\u2019m ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam grinned at him across the table. \u201cYour mother played poker?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDang right, she did. Best poker player south of the Rio Grande.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSpend a lot of time in Mexico, do you?\u201d Adam played along.<\/p>\n Hoss winked. \u201cOnly when we need to. And with all this, looks like I won\u2019t need to for a good long while.\u201d Rising with Dirk\u2019s pocket watch in one hand and a scoop of money in the other, he looked toward the street and back to the money still sitting on the table. \u201cI don\u2019t reckon one a\u2019you fellas would be so kind as to grab me my saddlebags from that livery?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam pushed himself lazily to his feet. \u201cWhy not. A good bit of that money is mine, after all, and I don\u2019t like to leave my money unprotected.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWas<\/em> yours, ya\u2019 mean. Fella\u2019 there\u2019ll know which tack is mine. Just tell\u2019im Eric Wheeler sent ya\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRight,\u201d Adam said over his shoulder as he made his way to the hotel entrance. He could feel Clayton Scott\u2019s wide eyes on his back, and he increased his pace, anxious to get to the heart of the ruse\u2026and to get justice for Little Joe.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Scott was whining when Adam returned. \u201cYa\u2019 can\u2019t quit now. That pot\u2019s supposed to be mine! I bin winnin\u2019 it fair and square!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure,\u201d Hoss answered. You was<\/em> winnin\u2019 it. But you kept on playin\u2019. I\u2019m much obliged, by the way.\u201d He winked. \u201cNow I won it, fair and square. An\u2019 I don\u2019t aim to keep playin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam dropped the saddlebags on the table. \u201cI presume these are yours?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure are, mister. Sure are. Thank ya\u2019, kindly.\u201d Hoss started pushing money inside, then hesitated and grabbed out a dollar bill. \u201cFer yer troubles.\u201d He gave another wink as Adam hesitantly took the money\u2026along with the pocket watch Hoss slipped discretely into his palm.<\/p>\n A moment later, Adam turned to meet Clayton Scott\u2019s wide-eyed, frightened rabbit stare with an irritated grimace of his own.<\/p>\n \u201cGentlemen,\u201d Hoss tipped his hat and turned away.<\/p>\n \u201cHe can\u2019t do that,\u201d Scott told Adam and Dirk. \u201cHe can\u2019t up and end the game like that. One a\u2019you go out there and get him back here. We got ta\u2019 get the chance to win our money back.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nThe Dawson Gang<\/a>
\nJust A Poker Game<\/a>
\nLoser Take All<\/a><\/p>\n![\"joe-poker\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/joe-poker.jpg?resize=300%2C225&ssl=1\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"brotherskeeper2\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/brotherskeeper2.jpg?resize=273%2C300&ssl=1\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"adam-hoss\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/adam-hoss.jpg?resize=300%2C230&ssl=1\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"hoss-poker\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/hoss-poker.jpg?resize=300%2C240&ssl=1\")
<\/a><\/p>\n
![\"Adam-rifle\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/Adam-rifle.jpg?resize=300%2C222&ssl=1\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"thefriendship\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/thefriendship.png?resize=300%2C225&ssl=1\")
<\/a><\/p>\n