{"id":7228,"date":"2011-02-18T19:25:10","date_gmt":"2011-02-19T00:25:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=7228"},"modified":"2026-07-29T13:24:20","modified_gmt":"2026-07-29T17:24:20","slug":"the-prodigal","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=7228","title":{"rendered":"The Prodigal (by slaine89)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0<\/span>A fight with Adam causes fifteen year old Joe to leave the ranch, and events take a turn for the worse, making it impossible for him to return home whether he wants to or not.<\/p>\n

Rated:<\/span>\u00a0K (29,195 words)
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

The Prodigal Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

The Prodigal<\/a>
\nThe Outlaw<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Prodigal<\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

It was the same as any other saloon he\u2019d been in.<\/strong> The same ragtag mix of cowboys, farmers, and stragglers. A couple of girls mingling to keep the money flowing. The bartender wiping down the counter with a white rag. No difference here. But Joe still couldn\u2019t get comfortable in his seat. Maybe it was the glances from the other men in the room wondering if he was even old enough to be served or the girls trying to decide if he had enough money to be worth their time. Or maybe it was the old man sitting in the corner and taking everything in like a hawk.<\/p>\n

He was like an old oak tree, lean and withered, but hard, so hard you\u2019d be liable to break your axe if you tried to hack it down. And his eyes traveled around the room in a circular patter; every time they flickered over him, Joe looked away. And every time they passed, he looked back. He couldn\u2019t help it. He had a feeling the man knew he was watching him, but he didn\u2019t seem to care enough to talk.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think I\u2019ve ever seen you in here before.\u201d A dark haired girl smiled as she slid into the seat next to him. Her poison green dress rustled as she smoothed her skirt down. \u201cWhere are you from?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSacramento.\u201d Joe didn’t think there was any harm in telling her the truth; anyone looking for him would be back on their way to San Francisco, not here Placerville, but you could never be sure. Better to be safe than sorry.<\/p>\n

\u201cSacramento? So a city boy.\u201d she smiled, her red lips stretching over perfect white teeth. \u201cWhere are you headed?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot sure.\u201d Joe lied as he motioned to the bartender.<\/p>\n

\u201cI never drink with a man without knowing his name.\u201d The girl said as Joe poured her a drink. He jingled a couple of coins in his pocket. This drink would have to be a short one.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNice to meet you, Joe. I\u2019m Jewel.\u201d She lifted her glass. \u201cPlanning on staying in town long?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you\u2019ll have to come back and see me again.\u201d She smiled alluringly and winked. \u201cIt\u2019s not too often I get such handsome visitors. Most of the men in this town are what you see here: rabble.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo is that why the bartender didn\u2019t throw me out for being too young when I first walked in?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cToo young? How old are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOld enough.\u201d Joe stood. Drinks were all well and good, but they didn\u2019t go very far toward keeping your stomach full. \u201cI\u2019ll see you around.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope so.\u201d She gave him a little grin and he smiled faintly before turning and walking out. He must be desperate if even a pretty girl like that couldn\u2019t get his mind off things. He jingled the coins again, not noticing as he nearly bumped into someone.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry.\u201d Joe tried to step aside, but the man grabbed him by his collar. He felt his feet leave the wooden boards of the porch.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo where\u2019s a kid like you come off buying drinks for my girl?\u201d the man growled. Joe\u2019s eyes traveled past a large blonde beard and a large nose to meet a pair of ice-like blue eyes. For some reason he was reminded of his brother Hoss when he got mad, which, although it wasn\u2019t often, was one of the most terrifying things a person could ever see. But usually whenever Hoss did get mad, he was on the same side as Joe. Now there was no one to defend him.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe approached me.\u201d Joe managed to gulp out. The stranger’s fist was pressing up against his throat through his shirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. And why would she go to a kid?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. Maybe you\u2019re not man enough for her.\u201d Almost before he\u2019d gotten the sentence out, Joe gasped as a fist landed in his stomach. The man dropped him to the floor, and he felt a boot in his side.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was that?\u201d the man leered over him as he gasped for breath like a fish on a riverbank.<\/p>\n

That was probably not the best thing to say.<\/em>\u00a0Joe decided. He tried to inhale, but the boot hit his stomach again, forcing what little air he\u2019d managed to draw in back out.<\/p>\n

\u201cPicking on kids, Johnson?\u201d a voice creaked over Joe\u2019s head. He looked up to see the old man from the saloon standing over him.<\/p>\n

\u201cNone of your business, Morgan.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, probably not. But you might want to leave him alone anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd why\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust a thought. Besides, I think you\u2019re girl\u2019s waiting for you inside. Might want to go win her back now before she takes a liking to some other young pup.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d The man gave Morgan a glare like a young wolf losing its prey to a seasoned warrior and then gave Joe one last kick as he walked past into the bar. Joe didn\u2019t wait for Morgan to offer a hand as he stood up.<\/p>\n

\u201cOut here you gotta watch where you step; people don\u2019t like having their feet trod on.\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d Joe muttered. He brushed the dust off his shirt and winced as his hand brushed against his stomach. That would be tender for a while. The old man chuckled, a sound like a rusty wagon wheel.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d Joe snapped.<\/p>\n

\u201cReady for round two are ya?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI could\u2019ve taken him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot on your life. You may be high and mighty wherever you come from, but out here, you ain\u2019t worth more than the dirt on your jacket.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d hardly say high and mighty.\u201d Joe turned to go.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo? Well, maybe not, but I\u2019ll bet you\u2019ve never been as hungry before in your life as you are now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe waved a hand and kept walking. Just because he was at a low point didn\u2019t mean he wanted it rubbed in his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cGot enough money for some tobacco?\u201d the man hollered after him. Joe sighed and turned around.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe, but I\u2019m not giving it to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell you what,\u201d the man caught up to him, hopping across the street like an old crow. For someone who was so formidable sitting down, it was amazing how harmless, and almost comical he seemed standing next to him. He was barely eye level with Joe.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll buy you dinner if you buy be some tobacco. Deal?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Maybe he\u2019d gotten a kick in the head too because Joe couldn\u2019t believe what he\u2019d just heard.<\/p>\n

\u201cBefore my wife died I promised her I\u2019d never buy tobacco again. So? Do we have a deal?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe studied the old man. The last thing he wanted was to sit down and share a meal with those piercing eyes fixed on him and his casual statements that seemed to hit the nail on the head. But a meal was a meal, and his stomach was quickly winning against any fight his brain was putting up.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n

***********<\/p>\n

\u201cSo,\u201d Morgan spread butter onto a piece of bread later in the hotel. \u201cgot a name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you headed? And don\u2019t give me that bull you gave the girl, though I have to say, it was probably smart. You don\u2019t want to tell everything to the first pretty girl that looks your way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo why should I tell you?\u201d Joe had already finished his first piece of bread. He eyed the basket, but he didn\u2019t want to look too much like a starved waif. Morgan seemed to read his mind and passed it to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m not exactly a pretty girl, am I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNew Orleans.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLong way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can make it.\u201d Joe snapped.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. And I suppose there\u2019s a good reason you\u2019re traveling alone so young.\u201d He glanced at Joe and then continued rambling when Joe didn\u2019t answer. \u201cI mean, you don\u2019t strike me as the type of young man that would run away from home on a whim but not go back because you were too stubborn to admit a mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, are you trying to be aggravating?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a hobby, lad. Ask anyone and they\u2019ll tell ya. So am I right or wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat you\u2019re up to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. And he\u2019d thought his older brother Adam was irritating. \u201cWhat makes you think I\u2019m running away?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA boy your age in a saloon means you\u2019re trying to prove you\u2019re a man. You\u2019re not some lad who\u2019s hard on his luck because then you wouldn\u2019t have been stupid enough to get into that fight. Clearly you have a short temper, which means you act on your emotions, but you\u2019ve got a stubborn streak in you since you\u2019re not digging into the bread even though you look hungry. And you didn\u2019t tell that girl where you were going, so clearly you\u2019ve got something to hide.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe clenched his jaw to keep it from opening slightly in shock. \u201cYou spend too much time staring at people, mister.\u201d He finally said. Then he took two more pieces of bread. After all, Morgan was paying, and the old man was getting on his nerves.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust making conversation. Of course we could sit here in silence and wait for the food to get here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe could.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOr I could go back to my saloon and leave you in peace.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe felt a slight twinge of conscience. After all, the man had bought him lunch. And he hadn\u2019t said anything that wasn\u2019t true.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo were you always this observant of people?\u201d he asked in a slightly exasperated tone. Part of him wondered if he would regret extending the conversation.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt comes from a life on the road. Always know who your enemies are, who to avoid, and who you can use, and the sooner you learn, the more likely your chances of survival are.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo which am I? Someone to use?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomeone who has no idea what he\u2019s getting himself into.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks for the vote of confidence.\u201d This almost wasn\u2019t worth the meal. Almost. But when their food arrived Joe changed his mind. And thankfully Morgan was so busy eating he didn\u2019t talk much more except to remark that Joe had better eat well now because it would probably be his last good meal for a while. When they left, Joe reluctantly held out his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Mr. Morgan.\u201d<\/p>\n

Morgan waved his own hand dismissively. \u201cDon\u2019t bother. Have a good life!\u201d Then he headed back down the street in the direction of the saloon. Joe shook his head and went the opposite way. It was getting late, and he needed to find a place to spend the night. Tomorrow he would head out to Sacramento. Hopefully from there he could find a job until he had enough money for a stage that would take him farther southeast.<\/p>\n

One step at a time. Gotta get there first.<\/em>\u00a0He thought. It was a good forty-five mile walk to Sacramento. Joe moseyed over to the general store. He would have to skip breakfast if he wanted enough food to last him.<\/p>\n

\u201cHelp ya, son?\u201d the storekeeper asked. \u201cWe\u2019re just about getting\u2019 ready to close.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just need some jerky and bread.\u201d Joe glanced in the back room as he heard a loud crash followed by a muffled curse.<\/p>\n

\u201cHang on.\u201d The shopkeeper disappeared through the doorway. \u201cWhat the devil are you doing?\u201d he shouted at whoever was back there. Joe couldn\u2019t hear the reply. \u201cI thought I sent you to the bank. I wanted that money deposited tonight.\u201d Once again the reply was muffled, and the shopkeeper lowered his voice. \u201cBecause I don\u2019t want six thousand dollars sitting in here overnight; that\u2019s why! No, it\u2019ll be closed now. Just put it back here somewhere where it\u2019ll be safe until tomorrow.\u201d He reappeared through the doorway. \u201cSorry about that. Just hired a new boy; he\u2019s still learning the ropes. You said bread and jerky?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d Joe placed thirty cents on the counter. \u201cJust however much this\u2019ll get me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright.\u201d The storekeeper wrapped up the food and handed it to Joe.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d Joe left the store. He stepped into the street and then stopped. Across from the store was the livery stable, and the door to the hayloft was open a crack. Joe glanced around the practically deserted street and then went over to investigate.<\/p>\n

A couple of barrels sitting beside the barn allowed Joe to climb up to the roof. From there it was an easy matter of slipping through the open door and shutting it behind him. Joe waited for a minute to let his eyes adjust to the dim light before he cautiously stepped forward. The floorboards creaked slightly beneath his tentative feet as he made his way across the empty space to the stacked hay bales on the other side. Joe glanced down through the hold in the floor that led to the stable below to make sure it was empty and then climbed up the tower of hay. After manipulating a few bales so he wouldn\u2019t be noticed by anyone who came up into the loft, he settled down in the nest he’d made.<\/p>\n

After a few minutes, he shifted, trying to rearrange himself so there wouldn\u2019t be hay prickling into his neck and arms. The movement reminded him of the few occasions he\u2019d been sent to sleep in the barn when he was younger. A grin tickled the edges of his mouth as he remembered the most vivid of those nights. He\u2019d been eleven and too wound up over the prospect of upgrading from a pony and the ranch horses to his very own, full grown horse to sleep. Finally Pa had had enough of his bouncing around and sent him to the barn for the night. Even that hadn\u2019t been enough to dampen his spirits. The thunderstorm had though. It was just far enough away for Pa not to see any need to rescind his punishment and just close enough to send him cowering under his blanket in the hay. He\u2019d almost died of fright when he\u2019d felt a hand on his arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cThought you could use some company.\u201d his older brother Hoss had said as he settled next to his little brother.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m alright.\u201d Joe said. Now that he wasn\u2019t alone, it was a lot easier to deny having been afraid.<\/p>\n

\u201cFirst storm of the summer. It\u2019s about time. Maybe now it won\u2019t be so hot out no more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what\u2019ll you use for an excuse not to mend those fences then?\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll think of something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think you minded the heat. I think you were just being lazy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLazy, is it? Just wait \u2018til you\u2019re out of school and see how you like working all day.\u201d Hoss had reached for Joe to put him in a headlock, but Joe, knowing Hoss\u2019 move, slid out of the way and jumped on top of his older, and much larger, brother. It was enough to send the two of the rolling in the hay until finally Hoss succeeded in pinning Joe down. It was the way their wrestling matches always ended, and probably always would, but Joe still fantasized about one day beating him. As they both lay in the hay, looking up at the boards of the roof, Joe glanced over at his brother.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t tell Pa or Adam I was scared, ok?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, little brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was one of hundreds of secrets they shared, secrets that ranged from Joe\u2019s first kiss with Mary Swan to accidentally breaking a bottle of expensive brandy that Pa had bought for an important visitor. That secret had ended up involving Adam too as neither he nor Hoss had had enough money to replace the bottle. Joe remembered not wanting to tell Adam, the look on his older brother’s face, the lecture, and the reluctant departure to Virginia City, leaving him and Hoss to sweat it out until Adam came back. Neither of them had thought he would make it in time, but he had, galloping into the yard not five minutes before dinner.<\/p>\n

Joe didn\u2019t know whether to frown or grin as he remembered dropping on his knees to thank Adam.\u00a0I told him I owed him my life.<\/em>\u00a0He remembered. Adam had just playfully smacked him on the side of the head and pushed past him to get washed up. Joe wondered where that brother had gone. Then again, where had the playful kid gone too?<\/p>\n

If only people didn\u2019t have to grow up. Back when he was a kid, he\u2019d been comfortable with himself and everyone else. Life was clear and easy. But lately he had seemed to hit some sort of wall, and he didn\u2019t know how to get around it.<\/p>\n

I guess running away from it isn\u2019t the best answer.<\/em>\u00a0Joe decided. He thought of Morgan in the hotel earlier. Too stubborn to admit a mistake and go back. That was him. Any time he made a mistake, he would much rather forge ahead and deal with the consequences, even though more often than not that was more painful than just going back and fixing it. But going forward didn\u2019t seem to be an option this time. Joe pictured in his mind what it would be like to go back and apologize to Adam. That was a conversation he\u2019d just as soon avoid. Too bad it was one he\u2019d have to face.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright.\u201d He said aloud to whatever angel was on his shoulder bothering him. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t the smartest move anyway.\u201d He\u2019d been feeling that for a couple of days, but it took Morgan calling him out on his pride to convince him to just face the facts. Joe stood up. He wasn\u2019t going to get any sleep anyway; he might as well get some miles under his belt.<\/p>\n

He climbed out of the hayloft the way he\u2019d come and jumped lightly down into the street. It was empty; the half moon lit up closed doors and blank windows. Joe glanced down the street towards the west. A yearning rose up in him to see the city his mother had lived in and the places she\u2019d told him about, but he turned away. Someday he\u2019d go there; at the moment, there was only one road for him. He turned east and walked through the town until the buildings fell behind him. The road to Carson City rose up in front to meet his feet as he walked. A soft wind skirted around his face, enough to keep the tree branches rustling. At first Joe kept turning to see if someone was there, but eventually he accepted the rustlings for what they were: simple sounds of the night. The moon cast only enough light to see the road, nothing else, but for some reason, Joe liked it that way. The darkness seemed to surround him like a blanket, comforting rather than menacing. Every once in a while he glanced up at what stars he could see through a few clouds. They seemed to point the way home.<\/p>\n

He walked for several hours before his feet started to stumble. Then he went a little distance off the road, fumbling around in the dark until he found a tree to lean against. Within minutes, he was asleep.<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

It was a long, jolting ride from Billings Montana to Virginia City. The fact that the stage had been packed almost to the brim hadn\u2019t helped, and when Ben Cartwright stepped out of it at the end of his journey, he felt like he\u2019d been cramped down to half his size. He stretched his weary muscles and looked around for one of his sons. Instantly his gaze landed on his second son, Hoss, and very easily the largest man in the Comstock. Ben stepped forward with a smile that faded when he saw the worried look on Hoss\u2019 round and normally gentle face.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi, Pa.\u201d Hoss said.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss.\u201d Ben waited for Hoss to say whatever was wrong.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow was the trip?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss, what\u2019s wrong?\u201d Ben cut to the chase.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I wanted to give you a couple minutes to relax before lettin\u2019 you know. But I guess you\u2019d want to know right away.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKnow what?\u201d Scenarios flashed through Ben\u2019s mind. The house burning down, robbery, one of his other sons being injured. \u201cTell me, Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYessir. Well, you see, it\u2019s like this\u2026 Joe\u2019s gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s mind somehow couldn\u2019t process what Hoss was saying. \u201cGone? Gone where?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust gone. Here, I\u2019ll explain to you on the way home, Pa. The buckboard\u2019s right over here.\u201d Hoss tried to guide his father to the buckboard, but Ben shook him off.<\/p>\n

\u201cGo home? Shouldn\u2019t we see the sheriff?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot that kind of gone, Pa. He\u2019s\u2026 well, he\u2019s up and run away.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben felt as though as horse had kicked him in the stomach. He clutched Hoss\u2019 shoulder. \u201cWhen? Why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know how he and Adam get after each other, Pa.\u201d Hoss said uncomfortably as he led the way to the buckboard and Ben unnoticingly followed. \u201cWell they kept at it while you were gone, and one thing led to another, and they got in a fight. I don\u2019t even rightly know what it was about, I just come home to them two rolling on the floor trying to beat the tar out of each other. After I pulled them apart, Little Joe took off. Adam and I figured he just needed to cool off, but we ain\u2019t seen him since.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen was this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThree days ago. We asked around and found out he\u2019d gotten on the stage to San Francisco. We wired out there to see about having someone stop him, and Adam went out there himself. I\u2019d just checked the telegraph office before the stage came in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe’s on his way back.\u201d Hoss looked down, and his voice dropped. \u201cHe didn’t mention if Joe was with him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight.\u201d Ben felt lightheaded as he gripped the side of the buckboard. Hoss seemed to sense his tension.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2026 I\u2019m sorry Pa. I know you told Adam and me to keep an eye on him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not your fault, Hoss.\u201d Ben said absentmindedly. As they drove toward the Ponderosa, he cast about in his mind for something to think of other than his youngest son alone and likely starving to death in San Francisco.<\/p>\n

***********<\/p>\n

Joe woke to a rough arm heaving him to his feet. Out of habit Joe raised his fist, but the metal click of a gun being cocked made him freeze. His mind whirled. Was he really being robbed? He had all of fourteen cents on him. Then he saw the badge on the vest of the man with the gun.<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy now, kid. No sudden moves, hear?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. And would you mind telling me what this is about?\u201d Joe tried not to sound too irritated.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s about the Placerville store being robbed last night and you having the money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t\u2026\u201d Joe saw the one who had grabbed him, a tall grey-haired man \u2013 fumbling with a small cloth sack. \u201cI don\u2019t have the money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen what\u2019s this?\u201d the grey-haired man asked. He shoved a handful of money under Joe\u2019s nose.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not mine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI should say not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI meant\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHold it.\u201d The sheriff\u2019s flat tone made Joe and the grey-haired man snap their mouths shut. \u201cThat money was sitting right here where you were sleeping. Clay, how much is there?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo thousand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright, kid, who else was with you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho\u2019d you split the money with? There must have been three other people. Tell us who they were and we\u2019ll go easy on you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe blinked several times as he tried to process what was happening. \u201cI can\u2019t tell you because I wasn\u2019t there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright, if that\u2019s the way you want it. Come on.\u201d The sheriff gestured with his gun for Joe to walk.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere?\u201d Joe knew the answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cBack to town. The circuit judge will be around in about a week for your trial.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I didn\u2019t do anything!\u201d Part of his mind knew they wouldn\u2019t believe him, but the rest couldn\u2019t resist throwing out another protest. He repeated it when the sheriff escorted him into the Placerville jail.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can try to convince them of that at your trial.\u201d He said as he locked the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn it!\u201d Joe kicked at the cot after the sheriff went back into the outer office. How in the world did he have such a knack for getting into trouble?<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m never setting foot off the Ponderosa again.\u201d He vowed. If he could get back there, that was. The only way he could see that happening was by bringing in some help.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis\u2019ll be good.\u201d He muttered. \u201cHey! Sheriff! I have a question!\u201d He banged on the wall with his fist. \u201cHello!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d the sheriff half opened the door and glared at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you send a telegram?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to send one to my Pa.\u201d Joe ignored the mental image of his father\u2019s face when he got this particular telegram. Yet another conversation he would have been completely happy to avoid. \u201cLook, I\u2019ve got the right to representation, don\u2019t I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but do you have the money?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, you took it all.\u201d Bad thing to say. The sheriff started to close the door. \u201cWait! Please?\u201d Joe pulled his \u2018innocent\u2019 look, the one he usually used on his Pa to stay out of trouble. The sheriff wavered.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, I\u2019m fifteen, and I\u2019m all alone in this town. I just want my Pa to be with me right now.\u201d He let his voice crack in the last sentence and then held his breath as the sheriff pondered.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright.\u201d The sheriff tossed him a pencil and paper. \u201cI\u2019ve got some things to take care of, but I\u2019ll send it when I get back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d Joe grabbed the writing supplies like they were a lifeline to a man drowning. Then he sat on the cot and tried to decide what to say. Better not to mention that he was in jail. Instead he wrote: IN PLACERVILLE IN TROUBLE STOP SEE SHERIFF STOP JOE.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that oughta be effective anyway.\u201d Joe muttered. He folded the paper and set it on the floor then he leaned back against the wall. An instant later he was up and pacing.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do something wrong, you get away with it; you try to fix it, you get arrested for robbery.\u201d He felt like smashing something. Unfortunately there was nothing around to break, unless it was his hand if he wanted to punch the wall. He didn\u2019t think the sheriff would appreciate it if Joe broke his pencil, and it was probably worth trying to get into the sheriff\u2019s good graces, if that was possible.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe Cartwright, you are in trouble.\u201d he said aloud.<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

The stage was late. Or at least it seemed that way to Ben and Hoss Cartwright as they waited tensely in the dusty street of Virginia City.<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably time to go in and have a beer.\u201d Hoss would mutter, more because he felt the need to say anything than because he wanted to leave his post.<\/p>\n

Ben pulled out the telegram from Adam and read it again, as if he could find some hint in the short message as to the fate of his son.<\/p>\n

\u201cFigure it’ll be another couple of minutes.\u201d Hoss mumbled, squinting up at the sun. Ben didn’t feel the need to reply. A rattle of wheels made them both start and crane their necks to peer down ‘C’ street, but it was only a wagon driven by a farmer, probably coming into town to get some supplies. Ben resisted the urge to pace back and forth along the street.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey’ll be along soon, Pa.\u201d Hoss said, unconsciously using the plural form of the word. Ben didn’t seem to notice.<\/p>\n

Hoss leaned back against the hitching post, trying to appear relaxed. His pa was tense as a fishing line, and it was contagious. He rubbed his horse’s neck, allowing the animal’s calm presence to give him a reprieve. Chubb glanced at Hoss as if to ask why they were standing around so irritated.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot too much longer now, son.\u201d Hoss murmured to his horse. At least he hoped that was true. He glanced up at the sun again. It was past noon, and past the time the stage was due.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe I oughta ride out and see what’s keeping them.\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

For the first time all morning his Pa seemed to actually hear what Hoss had said. But he shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u201dm sure they’ll be along in a couple of minutes.\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, Pa.\u201d Hoss shifted his weight to his other foot. What was taking the stage so long anyway?<\/p>\n

Then, finally, they heard the noise of the horses pulling the stage down the street. Instantly Ben and Hoss were walking out to meet it, and they were at the door before the driver even had time to jump down. Ben stepped backward as an older man descended.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry.\u201d he said. The next passenger out was Adam. One glance behind him told Ben all he needed to know. His heart sank.<\/p>\n

Adam shook his head. \u201cHe wasn’t there. He never arrived.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut he got on the stage, Adam.\u201d Hoss insisted.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe got off at a waystation. The driver said he told him he’d forgotten something and would catch the next stage back. I asked at the station and they said he’d set off on foot.\u201d Adam ran his hand through his hair. It had been a wasted trip in more ways than one. He was tired, not only from the trip, but also from the lack of results. And now he’d had to tell his father that his youngest son was nowhere to be found, and most likely on foot in the wilderness. \u201cI’m sorry, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben inhaled and took in his eldest son. Worry was etched in lines onto his high brow and in his dark eyes, which were surrounded by shadows from lack of sleep. He put a hand on Adam’s shoulder. \u201cLet’s get you home. You can get a hot meal and a bath while we figure out what to do next.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d Adam climbed into the buckboard after Ben, and Hoss mounted. He reached down to pat Chubb’s shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cHeading back to dinner and a stable full of hay. At least one of us is satisfied.\u201d<\/p>\n

***********<\/p>\n

Adam found Pa on the porch that night, watching twilight set in. He stood next to his father, unsure of what to say, so he let the chirping sounds from the first few crickets prevail. Finally Ben broke the silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt’s not your fault, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI shouldn’t have been so hard on him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou both rub against each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe’s a kid. I should have known better.\u201d Adam had already been kicking himself all the way to San Francisco and back for not going after Joe that night, but having someone to admit that to somehow made it easier. \u201cAnyone could see he was already wound up about something, even before I got after him. I thought it was just growing pains.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho’s to say it wasn’t?\u201d Ben turned to face the profile of his son, who was staring off into the settling darkness. \u201cEveryone goes through their own process of growing up. He’ll come around.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam glanced at his father, half afraid of what he might say next. \u201cYou just want to leave it?\u201d he asked hesitantly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m going to ride around a little tomorrow and see if I can find anything. If I can’t…\u201d Ben exhaled. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to say, but he knew it was all he could do. \u201cIf I can’t find him, then we’ll just have to wait.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust wait?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust wait. He’ll be back, Adam. I can guarantee that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam couldn’t believe his pa was so confident. \u201cHow?\u201d he stammered.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe dirt of the Ponderosa is in his blood, just like it’s in your and Hoss’. It may run a little less deep because he’s younger and hasn’t poured as much of his own sweat into it, but it’s still there. And he’s like his mother.\u201d A soft grin came over Ben’s face, and for an instant it was like he could see his dead wife there in front of them. \u201cShe would argue and put up a fight; you couldn’t convince her, and you couldn’t coerce her; you just had to wait until she made up her mind. And once she did, it was made up, and she be with you one hundred percent.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam still wasn’t so sure. And he didn’t want to say what he was thinking. Instead he turned away and walked to the other end of the porch. There in the darkness, one question drowned out all the others: what if something happened before Joe ever had the chance to make up his mind? Pa was right, they couldn’t very well drop everything at the ranch to go looking for someone who didn’t want to be found, but the thought of his little brother on his own just didn’t sit well with Adam at all.<\/p>\n

***********<\/p>\n

The week dragged by. Some of the church ladies, when they heard how young he was, came to bring him food, but other than that he was pretty much alone, except for the store owner, who came in and identified Joe as a customer the night of the robbery.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd he was in the store when I mentioned how much money I had there.\u201d He told the sheriff while shooting a glare at Little Joe from underneath thick, black eyebrows. Joe didn\u2019t answer. He was slowly getting the picture that the more he tried to defend himself, the worse it made him look, and if he\u2019d said anything at that particular moment, he wouldn\u2019t have been able to stop hollering. So he kept his mouth shut and tried to look adorable and lonesome when the church ladies brought him food. In all honesty though, he felt like a caged animal at a circus to be pitied by some and spit on by others.<\/p>\n

And still there was no word from his Pa. That was what had more worried than anything else. Maybe he should have mentioned he was in jail. For all he knew, Pa might have decided that his youngest son needed the lesson and was going to leave him to get out of whatever mess he was in by himself. But when Joe asked the sheriff if he could send another telegram, all the got was a sharp no. It was all he could do to fight the rising panic down. Pa would come. He was probably on his way now. And if he didn\u2019t, well, he\u2019d be able to manage. Sure things looked bad, but they would have to hear the truth in his story.<\/p>\n

The night before the trial, Little Joe gave up. He\u2019d have to face this alone.<\/p>\n

Then the day of the trial arrived. No matter what the outcome, he was glad it was here. Anything was better than pacing for endless hours in the small cell, chafing at his inability to tell his side of the story to anyone who could do anything. In spite of his resignation that he\u2019d have to go through the trial on his own, Joe spent all morning listening for the sound of the door crashing open and his Pa\u2019s baritone voice demanding to know what was going on. Just in case. But it never happened, and soon the sound he heard was the rattle of keys and the sheriff entering.<\/p>\n

\u201cTime, kid.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stood. His mouth had suddenly gone dry, and he followed the sheriff to the courthouse in silence feeling like he was dragging a boulder that got heavier and heavier with each step.<\/p>\n

It looked like the entire town was inside the tiny courthouse. The sheriff gave Joe a light push into his seat, and he resisted the urge to turn around and face the people behind him whose whispers filled the courtroom with the loud rumble of indistinctive chatter.. For some reason having all those people staring at the back of his head made him feel like a deer being watched by a hundred wolves who were hungry for revenge. Joe closed his eyes and sent up a brief prayer, just in case God was listening. The sound of a gavel made him open his eyes again.<\/p>\n

The judge banged the gavel again and waited for silence. Joe studied him, taking in his short nose in the center of his round face and blue eyes. White hair framed a shiny bald head. He looked like a man who had spend his life studying and watching rather than doing. Joe felt his stomach twist into an uneasy knot.<\/p>\n

The judge banged the gavel a final time, and the whispering petered out into silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe’re here today for the trial of Joe Cartwright, who is accused of stealing six thousand dollars from the general store owned by Carl Manning. How do you plead?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stood, every wolf eye turned upon him. He cleared his throat. \u201cNot guilty.\u201d<\/p>\n

The judge stared at him for a moment, as if he was seeing Joe for the first time. Joe stared back, steadily holding his gaze. The judge nodded. \u201cHave a seat, lad.\u201d<\/p>\n

As Joe at, he realized that he was shaking. Every muscle in his body seemed to have gone limp. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and release some of the tension in his stomach. But as the prosecuting lawyer called his first witness, the tension grew, and his stomach continued to twist with every word that was spoken. For the first time, Joe realized just how much was stacked against him. He’d been in the store at the wrong time and had heard about the money. Then he was with the money, as he tried to leave town. The place where he’d been sleeping was hidden from the road, so it looked like he was trying to avoid detection. Carl Manning said he noticed that Joe seemed short on money when he’d bought the food from him. The evidence was all there, and all Joe had was his own word saying that he was innocent. Only every time he said it, it sounded weaker and weaker, even to his own ears. When the judge asked him for his final statement, Joe rose and turned to face the town members. He inhaled a deeply a he could and then let it out slowly. Inwardly he was squirming beneath the looks of hatred and sympathy. Most of these people wouldn’t even be effected by the results of this trial; they just wanted to see someone pay the price to Lady Justice, and he was supposed to convince them to be on his side? It seemed impossible, but he figured it was better to try than to take this sitting down.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, I know I’m a stranger here,\u201d he began. \u201cand I know none of you care what happens to me; you just want your money back. And the fact that I can’t tell you where the rest of it is probably isn’t helping endear myself to you. If I knew where the money was, I would tell you. But I don’t.\u201d Joe forced himself to meet their carnivorous eyes, praying they would see the truth in his own. \u201cI came here because I was leaving my home, and then last night I decided to go back, so I set out. The reason I was sleeping where I was is because it seemed like a good enough place after fumbling around in the dark. When I woke up, the money was there beside me. All I can think is that someone else robbed the store and tossed some of the money down beside me to make it look like I was responsible and to divert suspicion.\u201d He was talking too fast, sounding too desperate. Joe took another long, ragged breath. \u201cI just need you to believe me. I know I’m asking you to put your faith in a complete stranger, but I promise you, I didn’t rob that store. I can’t back it up with evidence; all I have is the truth.\u201d Joe glanced at the judge and then sat down. He felt no response from the crowd; it was like he had been talking to himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe’ll have a recess while the jury deliberates.\u201d the judge said. Immediately the townspeople began talking, filling the room with murmurs and snatches of conversation.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on.\u201d the sheriff took Joe’s arm and helped him to his feet, not unkindly, but definitely not in a friendly manner. \u201cBack to the jail to wait.\u201d<\/p>\n

The crowd parted in front of him like he had leprosy. Joe kept his eyes focused on the door as he walked through the people. When he was back in his cell, Joe nearly collapsed on the cot. He didn’t think he’d swayed one person to his side, but for all that, he still couldn’t picture himself being found guilty. Maybe it was a misplaced faith in human nature. Joe leaned his head on his hands. The sheriff found him in the exact same position half an hour later.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou just might make out with a prison sentence instead of hanging.\u201d he said as he unlocked the door. Joe didn’t look up. \u201cThat judge… I reckon he didn’t realize how young you were. He’ll probably let you off with fifteen years or so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLucky me.\u201d Joe muttered. This time when they entered the courtroom, the crowd instantly hushed. Joe had to try several times before he was able to swallow. Once again, he was a deer, or maybe a small mouse, mesmerized by a rattlesnake about to strike. He felt mesmerized as the judge began to speak. The words seemed to enter his head and swirl around a while before they settled and he could finally understand them.<\/p>\n

\u201cHas the jury reached a decision?\u201d the judge asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe have.\u201d the jury member stood. Joe knew what it was before he said it. There was only one decision they could have made in so short a time. Even so, he felt like he’d been stabbed in the gut when the man said, \u201cGuilty.\u201d<\/p>\n

Instantly the courtroom came alive with whispered exclamations. The judge banged his gavel several times before there was silence. Joe felt numb, like he’d taken a dive into an icy river. His mind dizzily grabbed onto the judge’s words, trying to make sense of them.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe Cartwright, this court has found you guilty of theft. Since you were unwilling to reveal the names of your compatriots and aid in the recapture of the rest of the money, I’m forced to give you a harsher sentence. However, because of you youth and your apparent need, I’m not going to have you hung. Instead, I’m sentencing you to ten years at San Quentin State Prison. Court dismissed.\u201d<\/p>\n

The room flared to life and noise, but Joe couldn’t hear any of it. He didn’t even feel the sheriff’s hand on his arm, dragging him to his feet. The room spun at crazy angles, and it was all he could do to walk out without running in to anything. Beside him, the sheriff rambled.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat’d I tell you? Ten years ain’t so bad.\u201d he punched Joe lightly on the arm, almost making him fall over. \u201cIf it’d been me, I’da hanged you, but the judge, he’s got a soft spot for kids.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stumbled back into the cell, reached for the bucket in the corner and threw up. At least that seemed to restore some of his sanity, and his previously numbed mind started racing. He put his head in his hands and didn\u2019t even bother trying to process the thoughts whizzing like bullets through his brain. Guilty. Convicted. He was going to jail. For ten years. Ten years? He\u2019d be twenty five when he got out! How could he explain ten years of being gone to Pa?<\/p>\n

Pa. Joe gritted his teeth against a sudden welling of tears. Why hadn\u2019t he come? He wouldn\u2019t just turn his back on his son, would he? Joe realized painfully that in a way he himself had turned his back on his own family. But he hadn\u2019t realized what he was doing, and he\u2019d been planning on going back.<\/p>\n

The image of his father rose in front of his mind\u2019s eye, followed by that of his brothers. Despite their differences, all had the grim determined Cartwright look that he knew he had as well. He couldn\u2019t believe that they would leave him alone when he\u2019d asked for help. Sure, maybe if he hadn\u2019t asked or maybe if they thought that it wasn\u2019t anything serious they would leave him in a mess of his own making, but there was no way that if they thought he was in danger they would abandon him. Not Pa, not Hoss, not Adam. So why hadn\u2019t they come?<\/p>\n

\u201cGet a good night\u2019s sleep; we\u2019re leaving first thing in the morning.\u201d The sheriff entered with a tray of food. He unlocked the cell door and slid it inside. \u201cEnjoy your last good meal for while.\u201d He smirked as he locked the door. Joe\u2019s eyes narrowed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait. Did you send my telegram?\u201d he demanded. He stood and gripped the bars of the cell door. The sheriff\u2019s face was expressionless.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat difference does it make? Your Pa didn\u2019t come.\u201d He left without looking back, and Joe slid to the floor. His mind told him he should eat something; the sheriff hadn\u2019t been lying about the food anyway, but he didn\u2019t think he could manage to swallow. His stomach felt like it was being squeezed into a ball.<\/p>\n

He forced himself to choke down the food and then curled up on the cot with his knees drawn up to his chest. The sheriff had gone home for the night, but Joe still refused to give in to the tears burning behind his eyelids. He dragged his mind away from thoughts of home and tried to picture New Orleans the way his mother had described it. A city of music and colors, she\u2019d said. Just as full of life as a meadow on a summer day. Joe wished he\u2019d gotten to see it just once. He wondered now if he ever would.<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

San Qunetin State Prison was a large building that seemed to rise out of the ocean itself, looming over the land like a tidal wave that threatened to crash down on the ground below. Joe felt a shiver pass over him as they rode through the gates. They shut behind him with an unceremonious thud. He glanced back. Already it seemed like the world had closed in on him.<\/p>\n

\u201cSheriff.\u201d A lean man in a suit came forward to meet them. \u201cThat the prisoner you wired me about?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir, Mr. Estell. Joseph Cartwright.\u201d He dismounted and nearly pulled Joe off his horse. Joe steadied himself by holding on to the saddle.<\/p>\n

You try dismounting with your hands tied together.<\/em>\u00a0He wanted to say.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll take him from here. Just need you to sign a couple papers in my office. I\u2019ll meet you there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright.\u201d The sheriff walked away without looking at Joe. Joe wondered how he could so easily consign someone to years in this place without a backwards glance.<\/p>\n

\u201cAgnell!\u201d the warden called. The man that stepped forward sent a shiver up Joe\u2019s spine. He wore his mouth twisted in a wry grin that made Joe think of a polecat leering at its prey. As he strode forward, Joe noticed a bullwhip on his belt. The guard\u2019s calloused hand rested on the handle from habit.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSearch the prisoner and take him to the lower cell block.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir. Raise your arms.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe did as he was told, and Agnell slapped down his sides. Then he gave Joe a slight push. \u201cInside.\u201d<\/p>\n

As Joe walked, he felt like he was entering a different world. Light streamed from windows high above, but then the windows disappeared, and all that was left was the dingy light cast from gas lamps. Agnell unlocked a door and pushed him inside. Instantly his nose was assaulted by the smell of rot and human feces. Joe tried to breathe through his mouth as he glanced around the dimly lit room that didn\u2019t look like it was longer than a hundred feet in either direction. There were several blankets scattered around the floor, and only a couple of chairs. A blanket had been hung in one corner to cut it off from the rest of the room. The couple dozen men inside stared at him with calculating eyes that made him want to shrink into the straw covered floor.<\/p>\n

\u201cNew man, men. Don\u2019t be too rough on him.\u201d Agnell shouted just before closing the door. Somehow his words made Joe\u2019s heart sink even more.<\/p>\n

\u201cNew man?\u201d someone muttered. \u201cMore like new boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe didn\u2019t care anymore. He looked around for somewhere to sit, but the group of prisoners crowded around him. For a moment he felt like shrinking back then he straightened and glared back.<\/p>\n

Someone stepped forward, a tall man that made Joe think of a black bear. He held out a hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cName\u2019s Blackie.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNice to meet ya.\u201d He said and then lifted his fist and brought it down on the side of Joe\u2019s head. He went tumbling sideways.<\/p>\n

Instantly the rest of the prisoners were on top of him. Joe could barely see through the arms and legs, but he still tried to hit back. Only it seemed that for every punch he made, five more followed. Eventually he gave up and used his arms to shield his head. Then he felt himself being lifted up off the ground by the back of his collar. Joe stared through eyes that were beginning to swell at the round nose of the man who\u2019d started it. Blackie didn\u2019t say anything; he just sent his fist into Joe\u2019s stomach a couple of times and then dropped him. Joe laid waiting for another onslaught, but none came. He looked up. The crowd had dispersed, splitting up into various groups and completely ignoring him. Joe let his head fall back onto the floor.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t take it personally.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me?\u201d Joe squinted up at a man with a patch over one eye.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s an initiation. Sure it\u2019ll be hell for you for a while, but you get used to it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d Joe muttered. The floor smelt like rotting garbage, but he didn\u2019t have the energy to get up. He propped himself against the rough clay wall.<\/p>\n

The prisoner leaned over Joe. \u201cName’s Lucky. So what\u2019re you in for?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStupidity.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lucky laughed and slapped Joe on the shoulder, causing him to wince.<\/p>\n

\u201cAin\u2019t we all? You keep an attitude like that and you may survive yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGreat. What I always wanted to add to my list of accomplishments.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t get too high and mighty, kid. We\u2019re all stuck here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, but I didn\u2019t even do what got me in here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. Everybody\u2019s innocent.\u201d He leaned in so close that the smell of the floor vanished behind the smell of his breath. Joe\u2019s eyes traveled from his broken, yellow teeth up to the one eye he had left, grey and unblinking. \u201cBut you\u2019re in here all the same, ain\u2019t ya?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. That was true; he was stuck. Maybe stuck for good. After all, what could Pa do now that he\u2019d been tried and convicted, if he even decided to do anything at all? The thought struck Joe harder than any of the inmates\u2019 fists had.<\/p>\n

\u201cKeep your chin up though.\u201d Lucky didn\u2019t seem to realize that Joe\u2019s thoughts had moved on. \u201cOne of these days another newcomer\u2019ll arrive, and they\u2019ll start to pick on him instead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Joe brought his mind back to the present. \u201cI bet they didn\u2019t beat you up when you arrived though.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYa think?\u201d He winked \u2013 or blinked; it was hard to tell since he could only see one eye \u2013 and moved on. Joe slumped farther against the wall and closed his eyes as he willed the smell and sounds and aching of his body to the back of his mind. Instead he tried to focus on home, the smell of grass under the sun overlooking Lake Tahoe. He was sitting in the grass, getting his pants slightly wet from the morning dew that still hadn\u2019t dried, and there was a slight breeze. The waves were lapping against the shore, lulling him into a sun-warmed daze. He could hear Hoss shouting as he caught a fish and thought about how good it would taste once Hop Sing cooked it up. His stomach rumbled, and instantly Joe was back in the prison. He let his head fall back against the wall and then flinched as he hit a sore spot.<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

The next day he was woken up from his cramped position along the wall by a bang on the door. Instantly the prisoners began to line up. As Joe rolled over and followed suit, every muscle in his body protested.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d he muttered to no one in particular.<\/p>\n

\u201cGoing out to the quarry.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe turned to face the prisoner behind him. He hadn\u2019t expected an answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust keep moving.\u201d The prisoner said. \u201cNo matter what.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d The word came out as a question.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe sighed. Great, more surprises.<\/p>\n

They were marched out of the prison and down to a small dock. Joe squinted in the bright morning light. His eyes had already grown accustomed to the dimness of the prison. As they were loaded onto the waiting boat, he took a deep breath of the salty air, a welcome change from the putrid air he\u2019d been breathing all night.<\/p>\n

I guess I made it to San Francisco after all.<\/em>\u00a0Too bad no one would be looking for him here now.<\/p>\n

\u201cDown below.\u201d Agnell kept a sharp eye on the prisoners, gun in hand, as they went into the boat. Joe took one last gulp of the clean, open air and then followed the rest of the prisoners to the hold. No one spoke until the hatch opened again and they filed out. Joe just followed the man in front of him, wondering what would happen next.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere.\u201d one of the guards handing out tools gave him a pickaxe. \u201cBut don’t get ay smart ideas. Pickaxes ain’t much good against guns.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, kid.\u201d one of the prisoners grabbed his pickaxe. \u201cThis one’s mine.\u201d he gave Joe his and walked off. Joe hefted the slightly heavier tool over his shoulder and followed the group down into the quarry.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust start chipping.\u201d someone called to him. Joe wondered if his face portrayed how clueless he was feeling.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere goes nothing.\u201d he muttered and took a swing at the rock wall. Then another. A couple dozen swings later, he was starting to sweat, and soon even the crisp sea breeze couldn’t keep him cooled down. He paused to wipe the sweat off his brow and then flinched as a whip cracked behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cNext time it’ll be on you.\u201d the guard threatened. \u201cNo stopping.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Joe kept swinging. Just like chopping wood, he told himself. You get into the rhythm, and you don’t even notice anything anymore.<\/p>\n

Unfortunately rock was proving to be harder than wood. Every time his pickaxe collided with the stone, it bounced back and rubbed against Joe’s hands. The vibration traveled up his arms and settled as a dull ache in his shoulders. Eventually the ache progressed into a sharp pain. Joe glanced at the guards out of the corner of his eyes. They were watching, waiting for him to stop. He kept swinging. Soon his arms became numb, though his shoulders still throbbed. He struggled to keep a firm enough grip on the handle so that his raw hands didn’t rub as much. A vibrant red caught his eye on the pickaxe handle, and he realized that his hands were bleeding freely. As Joe glanced around, he realized that many of the men had wrapped the pieces of cloth around their hands. Joe didn’t dare stop to fix his mistake now. Too bad his hands would have to pay the price.<\/p>\n

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Joe’s mouth began to taste more and more like stone dust. Sweat dripped freely down his face and burned into his eyes, and the back of his soaked shirt had rubbed his aching shoulders raw. Finally he heard the calls for lunch. His pickaxe fell to the ground, and Joe almost did the same, but he didn’t think he’d be able to get up again. Instead he leaned against the rock for a minute before joining the line of prisoners.<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly one cup of water each!\u201d the guard shouted. \u201cUnless you want to be drinking seawater!\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe gazed longingly at the full water barrel and dipped his cup in it. The water splashed on his hand and he nearly dropped his precious cup as his hand, which had grown numb, began to sting all over again.<\/p>\n

As the guards distributed the food, Joe’s heart sank. He hadn’t been expecting much, but this was less than much, close to nothing. Bread and a small strip of dried meat. Joe found a rock to sit on when someone tapped his shoulder. He looked up into the face of Blackie.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour water.\u201d the half giant held out his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? No, this is…\u201d Joe caught a glimpse of Blackie clenching his fist and exhaled. \u201cHere.\u201d As Blackie walked away Joe shut his eyes against the hopelessness that welled up in him. It had suddenly occurred to him that he might not survive ten years here.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt least he didn’t take your lunch too.\u201d a voice behind him said. Joe didn’t turn. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone or to be mocked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was going to myself, but I figured, cut the boy some slack, you know?\u201d Joe glanced at the prisoner who looked to be half Mexican. The man grinned and pushed back the wild black curls that hovered over his forehead. \u201cNimble Jimmy. And if you want my advice, you’ll drink your water the second you get it from now on. Your food too. We live like animals, no? Wolf it down.\u201d Despite his grim words, he didn’t seem all that depressed. Joe glanced at his ankles, which were shackled together.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat’s that for?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m Nimble Jimmy, that’s what. I’ve escaped from five different prisons before this one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDecided to stay here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m working on it.\u201d Jimmy cocked his head as the guards started getting the prisoners up. \u201cBack to work now. How’d you like the pickaxe?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, loads of fun.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou’ll like hauling rocks even more then.\u201d<\/p>\n

At first Joe was confused, but then he saw that the crews had switched, and the ones who had been breaking the rocks in the morning would now be hauling them clear. Joe looked regretfully at his shirt and then ripped the sleeves off and wrapped them around his bloody hands. There was no way they would survive otherwise.<\/p>\n

Since he was small, Joe was given a wheelbarrow rather than having to carry the larger rocks. He didn’t think it was that much better a deal, but clearly someone did because out of no where a prisoner came up and without a word took the wheelbarrow and rolled it away. Joe just shook his head in defeat. Ordinarily he would have fought, but he barely had enough energy to hold himself upright, much less try to knock another man off his feet.<\/p>\n

The first rock he picked up felt like it weighed five hundred pounds. He struggled through the quarry to the rock pile, nearly tripping over the loose rubble multiple times. Joe tried to go for a smaller one for the next trip, but it still seemed too heavy.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey!\u201d the guard hollered at Joe as he grabbed his third and slightly smaller rock. \u201cLeave the small ones for the wheelbarrows!\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe glanced down at the rock that was roughly twice the size of his brother Hoss’s head.\u00a0You call that small?<\/em>\u00a0He wanted to ask. Instead he bit his parched tongue.<\/p>\n

He felt like he must have worn a groove in the ground from the rubble to the pile walking back and forth. After the first few trips, he didn’t think he could make his feet drag him any farther. Then when he stumbled and fell, a whip snapped on his flaming shoulder. Joe cried out and jumped to his feet.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo breaks til quitting time.\u201d the guard snapped.<\/p>\n

A thousand things entered Joe’s head that he could say to this man. But he didn’t.<\/p>\n

Just keep moving; no matter what.<\/em>\u00a0He repeated to himself what he’d been told earlier.<\/p>\n

When the guards called for time to quit, he barely realized it. His mouth was drier than he would have thought possible, and his arms felt limp as a boned fish. He stumbled on to the boat and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the wall. When he opened them, the first thing he noticed was that his hands had bled right through the rage. Joe gritted his teeth and began to unwrap them, one painful layer after another. Soon he felt like he was peeling his own flesh away as he pulled the blood soaked rags away. He couldn’t even open and close his fingers. Maybe he should have left the rags on. They weren’t good for much now, but Joe didn’t want to rip up his shirt anymore. He had the feeling that they would still have to work the quarry in the winter, and he doubted clothes would be provided. He glanced around until he caught sight of the acquaintance he’d made earlier sitting a few rows down.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Jimmy.\u201d his voice barely made it out of his parched throat. \u201cDo we still work in the winter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRain or shine, snow or hail.\u201d someone muttered. Jimmy nodded in assent.<\/p>\n

Joe settled back against the curved wall of the boat. He’d caught on to the a sense of resignation in the air. It was just another day to them, another day of whips and heavy labor with almost nothing in your stomach just like when they went back it would be another night of laying packed like sardines in a room that stank of their own waste. This wasn’t some tragic hardship, this was life.<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

Joe lowered his expectations even more when the supper cart rolled into the cell block. The prisoners lined up against the walls and the guards distributed the food one by one. Joe wrinkled his nose when he was handed a piece of hard bread and a filthy bowl half filled with a thin broth and a bit of potato skin floating in it. Joe couldn’t resist the urge to sniff it. Make that rotten potato peel. He’d thought that after the day’s work he’d put in he could eat anything. He’d been wrong. When someone tapped him on the shoulder he turned over his bread almost without a second thought. Somehow he knew if he refused he’d be facing down the entire cell block.<\/p>\n

Eat your food fast.<\/em>\u00a0He remembered. Though he doubted anyone would want to steal the soup, he grimaced and tipped the bowl’s contents into his mouth. It slid down his throat like soapy oil, and Joe nearly vomited it up again. He pressed a hand over his mouth and clenched his jaw until he felt it was safe to relax.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou get used to the food, kid.\u201d Lucky said. Joe swallowed rapidly, trying to use his own saliva to erase the taste from his mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn’t call it food.\u201d he muttered to no one. Lucky had moved on. Joe narrowed his eyes at his back, wondering why he hadn’t seen him working in the quarry. Then he turned his mind to other things. His hands were a clear indicator that waiting to learn something after making a mistake wasn’t going to cut it. If he’d been a little more observant, he could have saved himself a little bit of pain. It was the same with the food. Joe looked around. None of the prisoners seemed to have ripped off pieces of their shirts. So they must be getting the rags somewhere else. But where?<\/p>\n

Joe glanced down at his blanket and then the blanket next to him. The other one was smaller and seemed to have frayed edges. Did they replace blankets? They must, Joe decided. He quickly ripped off some strips of the scratchy fabric. That was one mystery solved. It was a small victory, but Joe let himself take pleasure in it. After all, he had to find something to smile about in here.<\/p>\n

Joe looked around the cell block again. Prisoners were talking to each other, a couple were playing checkers with a homemade set, others were using cards someone had had in their pocket when they were arrested. There was a strange attitude that permeated the place though. Joe struggled to put his finger on it. Resignation? It seemed like everyone was content enough here. There wasn’t the yearning for freedom that he thought he would encounter. Or if there was, it carefully contained.<\/p>\n

So no daydreaming about home.<\/em>\u00a0Joe decided. Sure, one day he would go home; he had vowed that to himself, but it was no good focusing on home when survival should be first and foremost in his mind. He took a deep breath and pictured the Ponderosa before him. He imagined his favorite spot overlooking the lake and then thought about sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace after a long day. He imagined the faces of Hop Sing, then his brothers, and lastly, his Pa. And as each image faded, he let it go, like a man studying a picture before burning it. The memory would be there, but the dream would have to go. Here and now was what mattered. Joe opened his eyes, realizing for the first time that there were tears on his cheeks. He glanced around before wiping them off, but no one had noticed. Then the lights went out, and men cursed as they tripped over each other on their way to their blankets Joe lay in the darkness and decided that one thing was certain: if the judge that had sent him here thought that he was going to break him, he clearly didn’t know Joe Cartwright. He would defeat this place if it took everything he had. Then he would go back to Placerville someday and find the man who actually did rob the store. And every cut and bruise and injury that he got here, Joe would take out of that man’s hide.<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

That second morning he had woken up and been unable to move. Every muscle in his body seemed to be frozen. Then someone kicked him, and it seemed to snap things back into place. He stood wobbly in line to get their morning bread before heading out to the quarry. The second he got it, he stuffed it in his mouth. When there was a tap on his shoulder, Joe shrugged and continued chewing the last of it. At first he thought the prisoner would hit him, but he didn’t let the fear show in his eyes as he stared him down. When the prisoner left him alone, he allowed himself a slight grin. He would beat these men at their own game yet.<\/p>\n

There was nothing he could do about the tools, but he watched the other prisoners work and noticed the shortcuts they took. Like making wider and slower swings with the pickaxe and picking up long skinny rocks that, when carried at the right angle, looked larger than they were. He noticed that there was a certain pace used by the prisoners, not so slow that the guards whipped you \u2013 as he learned the hard way \u2013 but slow enough that it saved energy.<\/p>\n

He used the same strategy from breakfast at lunch with his water, and while Jimmy Nimble stole his meat, he clapped him on the back.<\/p>\n

\u201cGetting smarter I see.\u201d he gestured toward Joe’s wrapped hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy doesn’t Lucky have to work out here?\u201d Joe asked. He couldn’t imagine that the guards took pity on him because he was old and missing an eye.<\/p>\n

Jimmy chuckled. \u201cHe’s a killer and they know it. Killed more than sixty men, but he’s in for robbing a stage ‘cuz they could never prove any of ’em. Those guards are all scared of him though. He can kill a man in a split second with his bare hands.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut they’d shoot him if he killed someone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn’t really help the man he kills, does it? They prefer to keep him locked away where they can’t get hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo he sits in the cell all day while we’re out here.\u201d Joe murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cAin’t life a joy? But it’s the way it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what are you in for? I mean besides prison breaking.\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cGot caught up on the wrong side of the law too many times. I can win at any card game, and not always honestly. When they locked me up the first time, I figured there was no reason to stay, so I left. Second time, well, it became a game then, almost as good as gambling. Then they put me in these…\u201d he twitched a foot and the chains rattled. \u201cI’ll get out of ’em yet, but it’s taking more time than I’d like. Still, at least the view’s spectacular.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jimmy’s constant upbeat nature drew Joe to him every day at lunch, even though he always stole Joe’s meat, no matter how fast he tried to eat it. But he didn’t mind; somehow having someone to talk to made it worth missing out on half his meal. Besides, either his stomach was shrinking or he was just getting used to being hungry. Either way, although the hollow feeling in his core never really went away, he found himself able to ignore it most of the time.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo when do I get to keep my meat?\u201d Joe asked Jimmy one day.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen I get someone else to steal it from.\u201d Jimmy said flippantly. \u201cI’m sure someone will be along sometime.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s what Lucky said too. Then they can steal someone else’s wheelbarrow.\u201d Joe muttered. Jimmy laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust think how much muscle you’re building, chico.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m not building anything.\u201d Joe glanced at his arms. They were definitely shrinking.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow far is it from here to the mainland?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

Jimmy instantly lowered his voice, the amused look on his face replaced by a more serious one. \u201cDangerous question. I wouldn’t talk about it with a newcomer. No one would.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ve been here almost two months.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd you’re still a newcomer.\u201d Jimmy glanced at the guards as they started getting the prisoners back up. \u201cBack to work.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe sighed and hauled himself to his feet. It had slowly ceased to amaze him how much he could make his body do when his brain was convinced it was impossible. The trick was to imagine himself as a puppeteer controlling someone else’s body with his mind. You couldn’t think about the pain or the weariness, you just ad to focus on the strings. He pushed Jimmy’s mistrust to the back of his mind and grabbed his pickaxe.<\/p>\n

Later that week, Jimmy and Lucky were proved right. One night just after supper, aother prisoner was dumped in the cell block with the same wild-eyed oblivious look that Joe thought must have been on his face. They called him Rat. He did kind of look right a rat, with small black eyes and a long, narrow nose. Joe only looked on when they beat him. It was pointless to try to stop it, but that didn\u2019t mean he had to take part in it.<\/p>\n

\u201cToo good to get your hands dirty?\u201d Lucky stood beside him.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe I just don\u2019t see the point.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t matter. They won\u2019t accept you as one of their own \u2018til you act like one of \u2018em.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t join in.\u201d Joe pointed out.<\/p>\n

Lucky let out what sounded like a cross between a snort and a laugh. \u201cBoy, I\u2019ve got about forty years on you and a hell of a lot more experience. None of those young rascals would even think of crossing me. You\u2019re just some half-whipped pup thrown to the wolves.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo is he.\u201d Joe gestured to the young man who was hollering and rolling on the floor as he tried to dodge the fists.<\/p>\n

\u201cPups gotta grow up quick in this place.\u201d Lucky muttered.<\/p>\n

Joe didn\u2019t answer. He had a point; no one in the cell dared to mess with Lucky. He even had his own private room behind a blanket strung across a corner which they called \u2018Lucky\u2019s cell\u2019. No one went back there except Lucky.<\/p>\n

When the crowd disintegrated Joe didn\u2019t move. Lucky looked at him, scowling through his one eye.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell what? I thought you were going to give him the same speech you gave me.\u201d Joe gestured. \u201cYou first.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lucky spat. \u201cI don\u2019t have time to waste on you kids.\u201d He limped away.<\/p>\n

Joe smiled slightly at how miffed Lucky was to have been deprived of his initial intimidation. It was probably the only thing he had to look forward to. Certainly he couldn\u2019t look forward to release. Just because they couldn’t prove his killings didn’t mean they were going to let him out again. In another lifetime, Joe would have been horrified at having such a casual conversation with a killer, but somehow it didn\u2019t seem to matter down here. It wasn\u2019t about right or wrong, it was about survival. Joe stood next to the new man and offered him a hand. Rat glared at it suspiciously, so Joe shrugged and sat next to him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the other men watching him and sensed that lines were being drawn. Well, too late to turn back now.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe Cartwright.\u201d He didn\u2019t hold out his hand again.<\/p>\n

\u201cRat, as you may have heard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not your real name.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo? What\u2019s a real name? Anyone can call themselves anything and it\u2019s a name.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright.\u201d Joe backed off, annoyed. If this kid was going to get all defensive, Joe wasn\u2019t going to risk his neck to try to make him feel at home. He stood.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe go out every day to the quarry on Angel Island.\u201d He said. \u201cIt\u2019s hard work. Might want to get some rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

Just like magic, the heat was suddenly off Joe and turned on to Rat. Joe watched him struggle the first few days, just as he had, but he didn’t offer help. He was slowly realizing that survival was something each prisoner had to learn for himself. So even though he didn’t take part in the persistent bullying, he didn’t try to stop it either. Make it through the first month, and you might have a chance of making it your whole sentence. There was no room for coddling.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what do you think of the newcomer?\u201d one of the prisoners asked while they played cards one night about a week after Rat came. The stakes were high, up to almost five thousand dollars in fake cash, and Joe was losing. It didn’t matter anyway, he knew better than to win. You had to have been in for at least a year before even thinking of having the nerve to win a poker game, so if he wasn’t going to win, he might as well lose.<\/p>\n

\u201cJumpy little fella.\u201d a prisoner named Sanders slapped down a card.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Have a hard time believing he’s seventeen like he says.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEveryone’s a liar in here, Kirk.\u201d Blackie studied his cards and they all sat back. It always took Blackie a while to decide what to do with his hand. But for all that, he never won.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe looks about thirteen.\u201d Kirk persisted. \u201cYounger than you anyway, Cartwright. How old are you anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFifteen… no, sixteen.\u201d Joe had almost forgotten that he’d had a birthday. The day had come and gone the same as any other day, and Joe hadn’t thought it worth celebrating or mentioning. But that night, he’d lain awake for hours remembering birthdays past. He was usually pretty good at keeping memories from haunting him, but on some nights, like that one, there was just nothing he could do to keep them out.<\/p>\n

Joe glanced over at where Rat was sitting and looking forlorn. Part of him wanted to go over and talk to him, but another part knew it wouldn’t help.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy do they always throw us the kids?\u201d Sanders complained. “I was hoping the next one would have a couple stories to toss out about what’s going on in the world.”<\/p>\n

By that Joe knew he meant stories about women. It was one conversation topic that there was no taboo on. Tall, short, skinny, blonde, and bald, any story, description, or tall tale was welcomed.<\/p>\n

\u201cRemember when that George came in last year?\u201d Kirk said. \u201cMan, did he have some tales.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Sanders rested his elbows on the table and stared into space dreamily, unaware that Blackie could see all of his cards from the angle he was holding them. \u201cWe could use more men like George down here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe was all talk.\u201d Blackie said.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt least he talked. All I ever get from you is stories about your old hound dog.\u201d Sanders snapped. Joe grinned and shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m out.\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo soon? You’re lettin’ us down, kid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, find a better player next time.\u201d He stood and walked over to Rat, unable to ignore the softer spot in his heart that hadn’t quite calloused over yet.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow’re you doing?\u201d he asked, sitting down next to him in the corner. Kirk was right; he could easily pass for thirteen. But his eyes belied his youthful face, aging him at least ten years.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you think?\u201d Rat snapped.<\/p>\n

Joe glared at him. So he still hadn’t gotten it yet. \u201cI don’t know. Probably not to well considering you’re sitting here moping in the corner.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat else am I supposed to do?\u201d his voice carried a note of apathetic hopelessness. Any other time, Joe would’ve offered sympathy, but that just wasn’t the way it worked down there.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know you’ve got two options when you walk through that gate.\u201d He said. Rat seemed to brace himself for a lecture that he was going to ignore, but Joe didn’t care. Maybe some of what he said would sink through his thick skull. \u201cYou can figure out how to make the best of it and join them, even if it means licking someone’s dirty boots, because you can’t beat them. Or you can sulk and moan about how everyone picks on you and let it make you bitter until it kills you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don’t see you being beaten up and getting your food stolen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSee that bear of a man over there?\u201d Joe pointed to Blackie. \u201cNearly killed me my first week when I dropped a rock on his foot. And the man next to him with the brown hair? He hasn’t let me use a wheelbarrow yet. And the man with the mustache…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright, I get it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you?\u201d Joe stood. \u201cBecause it’s no skin off my nose if you don’t. I just thought I’d tell you it like it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell I’m grateful.\u201d Rat’s tone indicated that he was anything but, and Joe walked away. He’d done his best.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think he’ll listen to you?\u201d Jimmy joined Joe on the other side of the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. But I felt like I had to try.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou’re still too soft, you know? Leastways Lucky says so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo heck with Lucky.\u201d Joe muttered, but he made sure it wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear but Jimmy.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, we all hate the old geezer. But he is a legend after all. He was one of the first prisoners here before the place was even built.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere’d they put them if there wasn’t a jail?\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cSet them afloat on a boat in the harbor called the Waban while they tried to figure out a good place to build the jail. The boat was only supposed to hold about fifty prisoners and there was nearly three times that. Then one night there was a storm and the ship dragged anchor and crashed right outside where we are now. Half the prisoners drowned, but they found clay to make bricks in the place where the ship crashed. They made the surviving prisoners build the jail themselves.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWow.\u201d Joe glanced over at the blanket hung over the corner with new respect. It didn’t make him like the man any more, but it was an impressive story.<\/p>\n

That night a whisper beside his head woke Joe up. He squinted in the darkness, trying unsuccessfully to see who had spoken.<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright.\u201d the voice came again.<\/p>\n

\u201cRat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Joe tried not to sound irritated. Sleep was the one time he could leave this place, at least mentally if not physically, and he didn’t appreciate his escape being cut short.<\/p>\n

\u201cI… thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe advice. I’m used to having to stick up for myself, not submit to being treated like a dog.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt’s an interesting combination of both that you have to learn to do here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCould you teach me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stifled a snort. \u201cI’m just learning it myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe squirmed uncomfortably in the silence, feeling as though he’d kicked a puppy. He inwardly groaned. \u201cI’ll see what I can do to help you out though.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Joe rolled back over. What had he got himself into now?<\/p>\n

000000000000000<\/p>\n

\u201cStorm coming.\u201d someone said as they stepped outside to go to the quarry. Joe glanced up at the grey sky.<\/p>\n

\u201cGreat.\u201d He mumbled. As if carrying rocks all day wasn’t enough, let’s add a storm to it. Just what he needed. He wrapped his arms around himself as the wind seemed to whip right through him once they got on Angel Island.<\/p>\n

Maybe it’ll wait to rain until tonight.<\/em>\u00a0He thought. It turned out to be wishful thinking. Just before lunch, the heavens opened and dumped icy water down on guards and prisoners alike. Instantly everyone was soaked. As he walked rocks to the pile, Joe could barely see in front of him through the torrent.<\/p>\n

If the guards can’t see us, they’ll have to call us in.<\/em>\u00a0Or so he hoped. But as the hours dragged by, and the rain continued to pour down, the guards showed no sign of stopping the work.<\/p>\n

Four times Joe nearly dropped a rock because his fingers were numb. The fifth time a guard cuffed him on the ear.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike to see you try this.\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was that?\u201d the guard fingered his whip like it was an axe and Joe was a young tree he had a mind to cut down.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt can’t get much drier than this.\u201d Joe said. He kept walking. Let the guard whip him. He was almost ready to punch anyone who tried.<\/p>\n

\u201cWatch it, kid. You’re not the only one who’s cranky.\u201d Kirk said as he passed Joe with the wheelbarrow. He struggled to push it up the slight incline.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou’re shaking quite a bit there.\u201d Joe said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m fine. Better keep moving.\u201d Kirk glanced at the guards who were watching them.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight.\u201d Joe said. He kept his eye on Kirk that afternoon and noticed him growing paler and shakier. When the guards finally gave the order to board the boat, he went over to his fellow prisoner.<\/p>\n

\u201cNeed a hand?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust help me up the ramp.\u201d Kirk said as he leaned against Joe.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Joe tried to sound nonchalant, but inwardly his stomach churned with worry. If Kirk was accepting an offer of help, it meant he must be feeling bad.<\/p>\n

He maintained his watchfulness over Kirk the rest of the evening and the next day when it was still raining too hard to bother going to the quarry. The news was met with stifled cheers from the prisoners, but Kirk only closed his eyes. Joe narrowed his own in concern.<\/p>\n

\u201cA day of rest and little extra food will have him alright.\u201d Jimmy said when Joe mentioned his concern.<\/p>\n

\u201cExtra food from where?\u201d Joe asked. There wasn’t any extra anything.<\/p>\n

Jimmy winked. \u201cI’m not known as Nimble Jimmy for nothing.\u201d He cocked his head. I do believe that’s the food cart coming now.\u201d<\/p>\n

The door opened and two guards entered first, followed by the food cart and three more guards. As usual, Agnell leaned against the doorway and watched with menacing eyes. Usually Joe kept an eye on him, but this time he found himself glancing at Jimmy. And even though he didn’t see him do anything out of the ordinary, after the food cart left, Jimmy passed Kirk and Joe saw him drop a couple of extra potatoes in his lap. He blinked and wondered if he’d imagined it.<\/p>\n

\u201cPiece of cake.\u201d Jimmy said when he caught Joe’s bewildered look.<\/p>\n

They only had about a half hour of lights left when the door swung open again. This time instead of nonchalantly sauntering in, Agnell stormed through the doorway.<\/p>\n

\u201cLine up.\u201d he snapped, cracking his whip for emphasis. The prisoners jumped to obey the order.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, you think this is a game? Think now that you’re in jail, stealing isn’t going to be punished?\u201d he eyed each prisoner individually, and a shudder rippled around the room. The whip cracked again. \u201cThe man who stole the extra food will step forward.\u201d<\/p>\n

No one stirred. Agnell crossed his arms. \u201cSo that’s the way it is?\u201d<\/p>\n

He paced back and forth in front of the prisoners, flicking the end of a whip like a wildcat would flick its tail. No one dared to move, instead they stood ramrod straight and barely breathing. Then the guard stopped in front of Kirk.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d be one that could benefit from a little extra food, wouldn\u2019t you, Kirk?\u201d Agnell grabbed him by the collar and shoved him to the ground. A soft grunt was the only noise from Kirk. Joe clenched his fists. No one should have to take this lying down and without a protest. Especially not Kirk, who probably wouldn\u2019t even survive the beating Agnell would give him. As a cry burst through Kirk\u2019s lips from the first lash, Joe stepped forward out of line.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was me.\u201d His mouth felt like cotton. The other prisoners seemed to have shrunk back, as if the calculating look Agnell was giving him would slide over onto them. Agnell kicked Kirk away.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t say.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell then\u2026\u201d the fist came out of nowhere, and it sent Joe to his knees. \u201cShirt.\u201d Agnell snapped. Joe\u2019s fingers shook as he undid the buttons and let the dirty shirt slide to the straw covered floor. All the eyes of the other prisoners were on him, no doubt thinking he was crazy.<\/p>\n

I probably am.<\/em>\u00a0Joe decided. He clenched his teeth as the whip snapped against his back, leaving a trail of fire after it. He pressed his knuckles into the floor, as if the pain of that would take his mind off the whip. It only did for a few minutes, and then he nearly fell forward from the next lash. The booted feet of the prisoners in front of him blurred as his eyes watered. He closed them and focused on breathing. In,\u00a0snap<\/em>, out. The rhythm kept him going as his clenched muscles started to shake. In,\u00a0snap<\/em>, out. Then Joe fell forward and suddenly he couldn\u2019t breathe at all. Still the whip kept coming. It felt like the outer layer of skin on his back was being ripped off slowly with each strike. Joe clenched his fist, eyes squeezed shut. He wouldn\u2019t cry out. He wouldn\u2019t give them the satisfaction.<\/p>\n

As the fire on his back grew, it seemed to swallow up all his other senses. The floor beneath him felt fuzzy, and the room began to go black. A hiss escaped Joe\u2019s lips as yet another lash hit his back. He couldn\u2019t make his muscles work to keep his jaw clenched. Another lash, and this time Joe gave a short scream. It sounded like it came from a million miles away. The floor wasn\u2019t under him anymore; he was falling into a deep pit, and in the pit was blissful nothingness, away from the whip and the pain. Joe let himself fall.<\/p>\n

***********<\/p>\n

The first thing he was aware of was a crick in his neck from sleeping on his stomach with his head turned to the side. Why was he on his stomach? Joe tried to turn his head and gave a slight yelp when the motion sent rivets of pain up and down his back. Memory came flooding back with the pain. For some reason, Joe hadn\u2019t thought he would wake up alive. He\u2019d been almost certain that Agnell would\u2019ve just whipped him until there was nothing left but his spine.<\/p>\n

\u201cAwake now, are ya?\u201d Someone said from above him. Joe couldn\u2019t place the voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was your first clue?\u201d He mumbled. Even the motion from that seemed to use muscles in his back. If only he could go back to sleep, but he was too awake and in too much pain for that.<\/p>\n

\u201cNice little yell you made gave me a hint. Want a drink?\u201d<\/p>\n

At the mention of water, Joe\u2019s throat suddenly transformed itself into a desert. \u201cI doubt I can drink it.\u201d He said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll help ya. Careful now.\u201d Joe felt an arm slide under him and slowly help him roll up and over until he was sitting. He gritted his teeth and hissed as he straightened his back. It hurt to support himself, but he couldn\u2019t very well lean against the wall either. Instead he leaned forward and put his chin in his hands. His arms trembled under the weight of his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere.\u201d The prisoner, who turned out to be Sanders, handed him a tin dipper full of water. Joe carefully tipped his head back and downed it in one gulp.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks. How\u2019s Kirk?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA lot better than you, that\u2019s for sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI believe it.\u201d Joe thought again about going back to sleep, but it seemed like too much effort to roll back over. He glanced around. \u201cWhere am I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLucky\u2019s cell. He told us to put you in here once Agnell got through with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d Joe couldn\u2019t remember anyone being allowed in Lucky\u2019s inner sanctum, let alone actually sleeping there.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn\u2019t want anyone waking you up. You did a good thing, lad. Stupid, but good.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess I shouldn\u2019t overstay my welcome. Think you can help me into the main block?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure thing. Lean on me now so I don\u2019t have to touch your back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe gripped Sanders\u2019 shoulder and stood up. For a moment he almost went back down again as black spots fluttered before his eyes. He waited for them the clear and then nodded to Sanders.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOne step at a time, lad.\u201d They carefully made their way across the room. One step at a time was put to the most literal sense, since Joe couldn\u2019t go more than one step without the black spots returning. Finally they made it to the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook who\u2019s up, gents.\u201d Sanders called to the couple dozen men scattered throughout the cell block. Instantly they were the focus of attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cLooking good, Cartwright. Have a seat here next to me.\u201d Jimmy pulled up one of the few stools. \u201cHey Rat! Get Cartwright a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n

The young man jumped up and ran to the water bucket. Joe sank down onto the stool in relief.<\/p>\n

\u201cQuite a hike, all fifteen feet, hey?\u201d Jimmy winked.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Joe said, his face in his hands. His shut eyes welled up as he tried to breathe over the fire spreading in his back.<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it easy. Here\u2019s Rat.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe looked up and took the dipper. The water helped to calm his shaking muscles somehow.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Rat.\u201d He handed the dipper back.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d the young man’s look took Joe in from head to toe and was laced with concern.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long was I out?\u201d Joe asked. It had to have been at least a full day, since it was evening again.<\/p>\n

\u201cA good twenty hours.\u201d Jimmy answered.<\/p>\n

Joe took a few deep breaths, trying not to use the muscles in his back. The prisoners in the cell had gone back as they were, and beside him Jimmy made a double jump against his opponent in checkers.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow how\u2019d you manage to do that?\u201d his opponent, a New Englander they called Friday, complained. \u201cI had you trapped.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt takes a lot more skill than you have to trap me, Friday.\u201d He turned to Joe. \u201cYou play checkers?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA little. I\u2019m not that good.\u201d Joe reflected that he was very easily the worst checkers player on the Ponderosa.<\/p>\n

\u201cGive me three weeks and I\u2019ll have you wiping the faces of everyone in here with it. Not that that\u2019s much; no one on here\u2019s really a challenge.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJimmy, I guess there\u2019s only about a handful of people on this earth that could truly challenge you.\u201d Friday said as he studied the board. \u201cThere\u2019s no move I can do here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStart over then.\u201d Jimmy wiped the board clean and began to set it up again before Friday could protest. \u201cThat way I can work with my prot\u00e9g\u00e9.\u201d He continued to set up the pieces as he talked to Joe. \u201cThe key to checkers is knowing what kind of opponent you\u2019re facing. Is he cautious not wanting to lose pieces? Or would he sacrifice one piece to get another? Know your opponent, and you\u2019ll be able to think three or four steps ahead of him. Then you\u2019ve got the game.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut wouldn\u2019t the game be half over by the time you know the way he plays?\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot necessarily. Any checker player worth his salt can tell in the first three moves what
\nkind of opponent he\u2019s facing.\u201d He moved a piece forward. \u201cFriday\u2019s gonna go for the subtle approach from the side.\u201d He said. \u201cHe took the straightforward way in the last game and it didn\u2019t work, so now he\u2019ll try something new.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you stop telling him what I\u2019m going to do before I do it?\u201d Friday snapped. Jimmy raised his hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m just trying to teach here. It\u2019s not my fault you\u2019re an unoriginal checker player.\u201d<\/p>\n

Friday snorted, and Joe stifled a chuckle. If Jimmy was trying to get his mind off his flaming back, it was working. They spent the next few hours at the checkerboard with Jimmy tearing Friday\u2019s every move to bits. The more he talked, the more irrigated Friday got, but Jimmy never quit. He even made a few bad moves to show Joe how to recover from errors. But he still always won.<\/p>\n

The next morning as they lined up to go to the quarry. Joe thought about his back and wondered just how he was supposed to swing a pickaxe without tearing his back open and bleeding to death. Lucky seemed to read his thoughts.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust sit back down in your corner.\u201d he said. \u201cThey won’t bother you for another few days.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe blinked incredulously at the old prisoner.<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn’t you hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I just thought I must have heard you wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou heard me right. Sit back down. You’ve earned at least three days rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

Three days. Joe sat down feeling as if the world had suddenly started to spin the other way. He turned to thank Lucky, but the prisoner had already disappeared back into his ‘cell’. Joe settled back down onto his blanket. He was getting tired of sleeping on his stomach, but after couple of minutes, his exhausted body managed to fall asleep anyway.<\/p>\n

He slept for half the day and woke up ravenous. Since there was no food, he lay in a half doze, dreaming about steaks. Large, juicy, Ponderosa steaks, with juice dribbling out when you cut them and so tender they melted in your mouth. He could actually smell them in his half asleep state, actually see them in front of him. Joe felt his mouth watering as he cut a piece off and lifted his dream fork, ready to take the first bite.<\/p>\n

A foot nudged his side. Instantly the steak vanished, replaced by a burst of pain through his side. Joe jerked up and instantly regretted it. He hissed and leaned against the wall for support.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d he asked Lucky.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon’t snap at me, young pup. There’s work to do.\u201d Lucky coughed and then limped back to his cell. Joe rolled his eyes and followed, inwardly seething. He’d been so close…<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat work?\u201d he asked, hesitating before going behind the blanket.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet in here and I’ll tell you.\u201d Lucky growled. Joe entered and sat next to the old prisoner.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ve got a plan, kid. One you’re gonna like. You’ve proved yourself, so I’m letting you in on it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Joe leaned forward, forgetting about he pain in his back.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd escape.\u201d Lucky’s voice lowered to less than a whisper.<\/p>\n

\u201cEscape?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s right. Not for me though. No, I’ve spent my time. It’ll be enough for me to get my head above ground and smell the ocean. After spending life as a sailor, you don’t want to die any other way than with salt spray in your nose.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stared at Lucky like he had never seen him before. \u201cThen who’s escaping?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou and anyone else who can make it. We’re gonna burn that boat that carries you lads to the island.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut… people could drown.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey could. Or they could burn alive. Or they could escape.\u201d Lucky shot Joe a bristling look from under his eyebrows. \u201cDon’t you tell me you wouldn’t rather die trying to escape than sit here an rot. And this is the best chance, for all you lads.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright.\u201d Joe conceded. \u201cWhat do you need me for?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI need a few reliable men to soak the ship in oil from the lights. I’ll go up the day of the escape, and all the guards’ eyes will be on me. You boys will light the fire. I’ll take care of the guards while the rest of you swim for it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can do that.\u201d Joe said. He hesitated and then stated the obvious. \u201cThey’ll kill you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lucky grunted dismissively. \u201cI’m going to die anyway. Been in prison for seven years now, but it’s starting to catch up to me.\u201d he coughed again. \u201cYou boys deserve a second chance, and I’m gonna see that you get it. Now look, don’t tell anyone, you hear me? There are some sneaks in here that’ll do anything for a little extra food or a day off.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d Joe said. His mind raced with what he’d just heard. It was crazy, chances were they would all be shot. But escape fever had caught up with him, and he felt unfamiliar excitement trickling through him.<\/p>\n

\u201cOnce the days start to get shorter the guards don’t like to quit early just because the sunset time changed.\u201d Lucky said. \u201cThey stay out til it starts to get dark. We’ll have to wait until then. You be my time man, hey? Let me know where the sun is each time you come back. We want it as dark as it can be.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright. Hey, who else knows?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA handful. Your poker friends, and Jimmy’s the one getting me the matches. A few more.\u201d<\/p>\n

For some reason Joe thought of Rat. He knew what the answer was, but he had to ask.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about Rat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about him?\u201d Lucky demanded. \u201cHe hasn’t been tried, barely been in here a month. That’s the time when you’re smart enough to know how to get favors from the guards and desperate enough to try.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe’s a kid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo are you. Listen to me, Cartwright, I’m the one calling the shots. You hear? Cross me and I’ll make sure yours is the next body the guards have to burn.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn’t cross you.\u201d Joe snapped. \u201cYou said not to tell anyone, and I won’t. But the day of the escape, I’m not leaving him behind.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s your affair. I’m providing the opportunity; it’s yours to waste if you want. Now get out of my cell.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe carefully stood. While part of him wished the escape were happening now, the logical side of his brain was glad it wouldn’t be for another several weeks. He couldn’t imagine plunging into salt water with his back torn open. And that would give Rat a little more time to prove himself.
\nDon’t know why I care so much about just one kid.<\/em>\u00a0Joe thought, then he laughed bitterly at himself. He’d been in here way too long if he was questioning having compassion on someone.<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

The first day Joe went back to the quarry, the other prisoners did their best to shield him from the guards since he still couldn’t work as hard. And for the first time, Kirk let him have his wheelbarrow back.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don’t want to keep it? You two seemed pretty attached.\u201d Joe asked him.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt’s a loan, not a gift.\u201d Kirk snapped, but he still helped Joe load the rocks in it when the guards weren’t looking.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou’re a celebrity.\u201d Jimmy said to him at lunch.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I took a beating for someone else?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause you survived. None of us thought you would the way Agnell laid into you.\u201d he shook his head. \u201cYou’re made of tougher stuff than you look, chico.\u201d<\/p>\n

And apparently Rat was too. He still maintained the clueless expression on his face that made Little Joe think of a lost puppy, but he kept at the quarry work without complaint.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m used to hard work on an empty stomach.\u201d he said when Joe remarked upon it. \u201cLived on a farm with my Ma and five brothers and sisters. Seven people in one house means there’s never enough to go around.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI always took you for a city boy.\u201d Joe said.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I am. Left the farm when I was thirteen. Looking for adventure.\u201d he snorted. \u201cI guess I found it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, you hit a bonanza alright.\u201d Joe muttered. He wondered if he hadn’t turned around that night in Placerville if he would have turned in to someone like Rat, continually carrying a defensive wall around and automatically assuming the worst in people. One thing was for sure: if he hadn’t turned around, he wouldn’t be here. But he still couldn’t bring himself to regret it. After all, if he hadn’t turned around, he wouldn’t be home either, and even though he was stuck, Joe still considered himself on the way home.<\/p>\n

Thoughts of the Ponderosa filled his head every night now that Lucky had told him about the escape plan, and he didn’t try to stop them. An ache filled every fiber of his being for the tall trees and green grass of the ranch that he knew every stick and stone of. Little things that the prisoners did would remind him of his family; the way Blackie licked his lips as he stared at his cards, determined not to lose but unable to win, made him think of Hoss, and playing checkers with Jimmy \u2013 who said Joe would be able to beat him someday \u2013 reminded him of getting soundly beaten time and time again by Adam. As Joe lay awake, he squeezed his eyes shut against tears of homesickness. A restless shifting nearby let him know he wasn\u2019t the only one awake.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatcha thinking about, Rat?\u201d he said softly.
\n\u201cThinkin\u2019 about my Ma\u2019s blueberry pie.\u201d Rat murmured dreamily. \u201cShe had this way of making the crust all crispy and golden. It just sang. I\u2019d kill someone for a piece of that pie right now. Heck, I\u2019d kill for just a taste of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe smiled slightly in the dark. \u201cHop Sing, our cook, used to make these strawberry tarts from wild strawberries that grew near the lake. They were heaven on earth.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe heard Rat turn to face him, but he kept lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling through the dark.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou had servants?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe was just a cook.\u201d Joe realized that to someone who had nothing, having a man hired just to do the cooking must have made him seem richer than Andrew Carnegie. \u201cIf you ever tasted my Pa\u2019s cooking, you\u2019d know why.\u201d<\/p>\n

From the darkness, Joe heard a soft chuckle then there was silence. \u201cI never knew my Pa. My Ma said it was better that way, but once I got older, she told me there was too much of him in me. That\u2019s why I left home \u2013 too restless. She knew I was going to, and she didn\u2019t even try to stop me. She knew\u2026\u201d Rat fell into silence. \u201cI ain\u2019t mad I left; I ain’t no famer. Just mad that I ended up here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Joe listened to the gentle snoring and deep breathing of the men around him in the silence that followed. It reminded him of listening to Hoss snore in the room beside him, and he searched in his mind for something to say to start the conversation up again.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere is she?\u201d he finally asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy guess is still on that farm. She\u2019d die before she\u2019d let anyone take it from her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSounds like my Pa. The Ponderosa is his life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy\u2019d you leave home, Cartwright? Sounds like you had everything going for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI did.\u201d Joe took a deep breath. \u201cI let things get to me. Schoolmates always know how to stick you right where it hurts, you know? Anyway, there was this one kid, Jake Larson, not that bad of a kid; he just couldn\u2019t shut up; thought he knew everything. He always gave me trouble about not having a mother and that I\u2019d never get the chance to go anywhere because my Pa would have me tied up at the ranch the rest of my life. He\u2019d traveled quite a bit, and he would go on about where he\u2019d been with his Pa. I think he was actually jealous of me though, having that solid piece of earth beneath my feet. Anyway, we were both itching to fight each other, so we finally did.\u201d Joe stopped and chuckled. \u201cBest fight you\u2019ve ever seen too. Only my Pa was gone, and it was my older brother Adam home and in charge. He takes being in charge a little too seriously. I was supposed to chop wood that afternoon, but I\u2019d hurt my wrist in the fight, so I couldn\u2019t. He let me have it, first about my lack of responsibility then about fighting.\u201d Joe paused and thought about the sharp words that had been flung back and forth. Maybe if he\u2019d been a little more responsible earlier in the week while their Pa was gone and had not purposefully tried to get on Adam\u2019s nerves, his older brother would have been a little more understanding. Instead they\u2019d ended up shouting at each other until Joe had enough and flung himself at his brother. Of course he didn\u2019t have a chance of beating Adam in a fight, but that wasn\u2019t what mattered. What mattered was that for every time Adam hit him, he got to hit back. Until Hoss pulled them off of each other, that is.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe?\u201d Rat whispered carefully as if he was afraid to startle Joe out of his memories.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Yeah. Long story short, we fought, and I took off. Got on a stage for San Francisco and then backtracked into Placerville. It only took about a day for me to cool off enough to realize I was being an idiot, and then it took an old man in Placerville to convince me to turn around. That\u2019s when I got framed for robbery.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTough luck.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty much.\u201d Joe hesitated to voice his thoughts but then decided there wasn\u2019t any reason not to. \u201cYou know, when I get out of here, I\u2019m going back to Placerville. And I\u2019m gonna find whoever did rob that store. And I\u2019m beat him up so badly that no doctor will be able to put him back together.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re in here for ten years, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t matter. Ten, twenty, a hundred. I\u2019ll find him.\u201d The words came out as a vow, and Joe felt anger bubbling up in his chest. He would find him.<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess I\u2019d be feeling the same way.\u201d Rat said. Joe barely heard him. His mind was back in Placerville, going over everything that had happened for the hundredth time. The arrest, the trial, the sentencing. It was all as clear as if it had happened the day before. He was pretty sure it would stay that clear in his mind until the day he died.<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

As the days continued to grow colder, Joe kept his eye on the sun. Every night when the boat returned to San Quentin, it got a little closer to the horizon, and the air was a little bit darker. Every night Lucky asked him how the quarry was, and every night Joe would shrug.<\/p>\n

\u201cGetting there.\u201d he would say. And Lucky would nod and shuffle away.<\/p>\n

Then one day the sun was touching the horizon when they boarded the boat to go back, staining the water gold.<\/p>\n

\u201cRed in the morning…\u201d Joe murmured. There would be a storm tomorrow. When they got off the boat, the sun had almost disappeared.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow’s the quarry?\u201d Lucky asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt it’s prime.\u201d Joe said. His heart jumped as he said the words. Once again, Lucky nodded, but this time there was an added connotation. Joe took a deep breath as images of the Ponderosa ran through his head. He forced them out. There would be time to daydream about being at home later; right now he was still in prison.<\/p>\n

Jimmy tossed him a rag that morning in line. The scent of oil rose from it, and Joe stuffed it down his shirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cWipe down the wall and floor with it and then light it.\u201d Jimmy stuck a match in Joe’s pocket. Joe nodded. His mouth had suddenly gone dry, and he didn’t think he’d be able to talk if he tried.<\/p>\n

When they lined up, Lucky was at the head of the line. The guards froze, but Lucky didn’t seem to notice. He just marched past them like they were statues and climbed up into the boat. The other prisoners followed him like he was their general. The wind whipped their clothes against them, and the sky was clouded over. Joe tipped his head back, already catching the scent of freedom in the salty air. A they worked though, the air became as taut as a bowstring as they worked. Each chip he made with his pickaxe sounded like victory to Joe.<\/p>\n

This is the last time.<\/em>\u00a0He thought. Everyone seemed to be of the same idea: they would escape or die trying. There was no returning to this life. They ate lunch in silence. If the prisoners were tense, the guards were even more so. They knew something was up, but they didn’t know what. They watched Lucky, who didn’t bother even trying to look like he was working. Instead he stood and watched his men haul rocks. Even at lunch he didn’t move from the rock he’d posted himself at.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Jimmy.\u201d Joe broke the silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon’t say it, chico.\u201d Jimmy waved him off. \u201cJust keep playing checkers. Someday I’ll come find your Ponderosa and see if you can beat me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe forced a smile. \u201cOk.\u201d<\/p>\n

When they boarded the boat, Lucky didn’t lead. Instead he waited at the back of the line. Joe, Jimmy, Sanders, and Friday went down first.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, this is it.\u201d Jimmy pulled out a set of makeshift lock picks and in an instant the chains on his ankles were gone. He lit a match. \u201cVaya con Dios, amigos.\u201d he dropped the match on the rag, and the others did the same. Instantly the cloth flamed to life.<\/p>\n

\u201cFire!\u201d Joe yelled. They ran up. Lucky had already taken down three guards and prisoners were jumping into the water. Gunshots only added to the confusion rather than resolve it. Joe grabbed Rat by the arm and jumped overboard. He glanced back for a split second and saw Lucky tackling his fifth guard.
\nHe’s having the time of his life.<\/em>\u00a0Joe realized right before they hit the water. Rat came spluttering up beside him.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on.\u201d Joe started swimming. The guards would be busy putting out the fire and rounding up the prisoners who hadn’t been quick enough to seize the chance. Already it was dark thanks to the cloud cover.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on!\u201d Joe repeated. He choked on a mouthful of seawater. The waves slapped them back and forth, and Joe wondered how many of the prisoners would drown in this insanity. Then he began to wonder if he would drown. It seemed like no matter how hard he stroked, he got no where. Eventually his arms began to give out.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Joe!\u201d Now it was Rat who was swimming beside him, urging him onward. Joe gritted his teeth and forced his arms to keep moving.<\/p>\n

\u201cI see the beach!\u201d Rat yelled.<\/p>\n

Joe didn’t know how he could see anything above the waves and through the dark, but he took Rat’s word for it. His arms dragged the water back and his legs kicked him forward until suddenly he felt sand beneath his feet.<\/p>\n

Thank God.<\/em>\u00a0A second later he was almost pulled back out by the tide. Joe pushed himself forward off the bottom. Once he was able to stand up and get his waist above the water, he nearly fell; his body felt so heavy. Rat seemed to feel the same, and they both half walked half crawled up onto the beach. Rat collapsed in the wet sand.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot yet.\u201d Joe wanted nothing more than to join him, but he knew better. \u201cGotta keep moving.\u201d He glanced at the sand beneath his feet and realized that a child could track them in this footing. \u201cLet’s walk along the beach; we’ll keep our feet in the water to wash away tracks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd be easily spotted.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can barely see you right next to me; no one will see us. Come on.\u201d he reached out a hand and helped Rat up.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat’s the plan?\u201d Rat asked as they walked.<\/p>\n

\u201cSacramento.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSan Francisco is closer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEveryone will be headed there; it’s the first place they’ll look.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s because to go to Sacramento we’ll have to pass right by the prison.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExactly. It’s the last thing they’ll expect.\u201d Or so Joe hoped. He knew they’d be looking all up an down the coast for the escaped prisoners, and he was counting on the fact that no one in their right mind would walk back in the direction of the prison they’d just escaped from.<\/p>\n

Beside him, he could tell Rat was still uneasy. \u201cLook, you don’t have to come with me.\u201d Joe said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou dragged me out of there, Cartwright. If it hadn’t been for you I would’ve been standing there stupidly until some guard locked me back up. I’ll follow you wherever you lead, Captain.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe managed a small smile. \u201cWe’re not out of this yet.\u201d A thousand things raced through his mind. They needed new clothes first, then they would need food. Sacramento was quite the hike; no way could they do it on an empty stomach.<\/p>\n

They followed the coast northwest and then followed a river off of the bay upstream so they could skirt around San Quentin. As the sky began to lighten, Joe nudged Rat.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe’d better start looking for a place to hide.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are we?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably three to five miles West of San Quentin.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo we must be near San Rafael.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe gave an exaggerated shrug. \u201cYou’re guess is as good as mine.\u201d He looked ahead. \u201cWhat’s that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Rat nodded. \u201cThat’s what I thought. The San Rafael mission.\u201d He picked up his pace and Joe followed. In the slowly increasing light he saw a one story building with a cross on top of it. In front there was a large bell that didn’t look like it had been used in years.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt’s abandoned.\u201d Rat opened the door, which gave a dramatic creak, as if annoyed by being disturbed after years of slumber.<\/p>\n

Joe squinted as he tried to see around inside the dusty room. \u201cNot much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut it’ll hide us for the day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUnless someone comes looking here.\u201d Joe pointed out.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen we’ll have to rely on your guess that no one would think we would come this way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe nodded in concession. It was like there was any place better anyway.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe should take turns watching. You want to sleep first?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can take first watch.\u201d Rat said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo to sleep, Cartwright. You’ve been worrying a lot more than I have, so naturally you’re gonna be more tired.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe gave him a week grin and settled himself in a corner. \u201cWake me in a few hours.\u201d he said. The next thing he knew, he was being shaken.<\/p>\n

\u201cI said a few hours, not two seconds.\u201d Joe growled.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt’s been four hours, idiot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think your watch is fast.\u201d Joe stood up and groaned as he stretched his sore muscles.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou might want to be nice to me, or I won’t give you any breakfast.\u201d Rat threatened.<\/p>\n

\u201cBreakfast?\u201d Instantly he had Joe’s attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cApparently there used to be a garden out back. It’s all overgrown now, but there’s some stuff growing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n

Rat pointed to the back door, and Joe was immediately through it.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo am I gonna wake up to a gun being pointed at my head because you were too busy stuffing yourself to keep watch?\u201d Rat called after him.<\/p>\n

Joe didn’t answer. He stepped outside, blinking in the bright light.\u00a0Has the sun always been this blinding?<\/em>\u00a0He wondered. Instantly he found the garden and pushed through the waist high weeds. Beneath them, some squash had managed to survive hears of neglect. He picked four, gathered up his booty, and went back inside. He noticed that Rat was already fast asleep before going outside where he could keep an eye out.<\/p>\n

He cracked open on of the vegetables on the wall and dug in. Normally Joe hated squash, but no other food had tasted so heavenly. Joe wolfed down all four and then leaned back against the wall. A bird flew overhead, and Joe watched it, knowing just how it felt to soar freely with no one to pull it down. The air was still chilly, but the sun was warm on his face and made him feel like dozing. He let Rat sleep until he could barely keep his eyes open, then he went back inside and shook his friend awake.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ll catch another couple of hours then you can have another rest before we head out again.\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure thing.\u201d Rat yawned as he stood up.<\/p>\n

When they switched watched again, Joe decided to have a look around the building. You never knew, there might be clothes or something lying around that they could use. He found what looked like an old office and searched the desk, but all that there was was a map. Joe started to put it back and then stopped. Something had caught his eye.<\/p>\n

From where they were, it was a straight shot to Sacramento, except that San Pablo bay stood between them. Joe studied it for a minute and then went back to the main room. When it was time, he woke Rat up.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow far do you think you can swim?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think I found a shortcut, but it’d mean about a five mile swim.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe produced the map and Rat studied it.<\/p>\n

\u201cAfter all, no one would be looking for us on the water.\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Rat shook his head. \u201cYou’re crazy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you do it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow should I know? I’ve never swam five miles at a time just to see if I could.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think you could?\u201d Joe persisted. \u201cIt’s a bit of a hike around otherwise, and they may be looking for us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rat sighed. \u201cI said I’d follow you, Captain. Just don’t get me drowned.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe clapped him on the back. \u201cI won’t.\u201d<\/p>\n

***********<\/p>\n

They headed across country until the waters of the bay loomed before them. Joe’s stomach fluttered slightly as he realized he couldn’t see the other side in the darkness.<\/p>\n

\u201cReady, Captain?\u201d Rat didn’t seem to feel any better about this idea. For a second Joe thought about calling it off, but then he waded into the water. It was cool, but not cold, and after a few minutes of swimming he didn’t even notice the temperature anymore.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is crazy.\u201d Rat muttered from beside him.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust keep swimming.\u201d Joe told him. Twenty minutes later he was telling himself that. One long cramp ran up and down his whole side.<\/p>\n

\u201cHang on.\u201d he flipped over on his back and let himself rest while he gently kicked himself forward. Rat followed suit.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe could just swim like this the rest of the way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust give me a minute.\u201d Breathing hurt, but slowly he felt his side start to relax again. \u201cReady?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, but why not?\u201d Rat flipped over.<\/p>\n

They alternated swimming and floating as they made their way across. Finally Joe caught sight of the shore.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank the Lord.\u201d Rat said as they scrambled into land. \u201cI’m never swimming again as long as I live.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt’s sixty miles to Sacramento.\u201d Joe remembered from the map. He untied his soaked shoes from around his waist and put them on.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can’t walk all the tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. And we need clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell there’s a town over there.\u201d Rat nodded. \u201cVallejo, if I remember right from your map. Find a clothesline.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can’t just…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUnless you want to be caught in prison clothes.\u201d he added.<\/p>\n

Joe frowned. He didn’t really like stealing when he was headed out to prove that he wasn’t a thief, but there didn’t seem to be much of a choice. He followed Rat into Vallejo. They found clothes and headed out again.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m so hungry I could eat a rattlesnake.\u201d Rat moaned. They had found a small grove to rest in for a little while.<\/p>\n

\u201cOnce we get to Sacramento we should be able to get food.\u201d Joe said.<\/p>\n

Rat leaned his head back and groaned. \u201cDid you bring me out here to die in the desert like God did the Hebrews?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe rolled his eyes. \u201cStop being dramatic. We’ll…\u201d he stopped. A slight sound had caught his attention. He pressed himself against a tree and peered out.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Rat whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don’t know.\u201d Joe felt his heart beating in his throat. He scanned the field, but all that met his eye was grass. \u201cNothing, I guess. We’d better get going though.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’d say you should.\u201d a male voice said from behind them.<\/p>\n

Joe and Rat jumped and spun around, coming face to face with a rifle.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd who might you be?\u201d the man holding the gun demanded.<\/p>\n

\u201cTravelers.\u201d Joe said.<\/p>\n

\u201cTravelers? Why ain’t you traveling on the road then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe’re lost?\u201d Rat tried.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe didn’t realize this was your land, sir. Just point us in the direction of the road…\u201d Joe began.<\/p>\n

\u201cNope.\u201d the man cut him off. \u201cNot with guilty faces like yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can’t help it if we were born looking guilty.\u201d Rat protested.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don’t trust fellas on my land, especially ones as jumpy as you two. Clearly you didn’t want to be found. Now, I want to know who you are.\u201d When neither of them said anything, he cocked the rifle. \u201cNow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rat opened up his mouth, probably to lie, but Joe cut him off.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe’re escaped prisoners from San Quentin.\u201d he said, deciding to go for broke. It was a risk, but Joe remembered his checkers lessons. Any player worth his salt would know his opponent within the first few moves. And he remembered a voice from what seemed like a long time ago telling him to know people, who to avoid, who was an enemy, and who could be used. If this man only cared about his land, he would have either shot or run them off, so Joe figured he had already heard about the escape and jumped to the right conclusion anyway. But something in his stance made Joe think that he could talk his way out of this.<\/p>\n

\u201cRat here was in for joining the wrong crowd, and I was in because I was framed for robbery. I know you feel like you should turn us in, but I’m asking you not to. Yes, law abiding citizens are supposed to obey the laws of society and justice, even if they get dealt a bad hand, but we just decided not to take it anymore. I’m on my way to prove that I’m innocent, and Rat’s going home to his Ma. You can try to stop us, but neither of us are going back.\u201d Joe unbuttoned his shirt and turned around, showing the man the scars that crisscrossed on his back. \u201cEven if I had done what I was sent to jail for, I think I’ve paid my debt to society, don’t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned back around. The man lowered the gun slowly. \u201cHow old are you boys?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSixteen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSeventeen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust a couple of kids.\u201d The man shook his head. \u201cNeed something to eat?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe blinked. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do eat, don’t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir!\u201d Rat said.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on. My farm’s just over the hill. My wife’ll give you something to eat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou’re quite the gambler, Cartwright.\u201d Rat gave him a friendly nudge.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Wonder why I’m so bad at poker.\u201d<\/p>\n

They followed the man up the hill until a small farmhouse came into view.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou two got names?\u201d the man asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPatrick Miller.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe gave Rat a quizzical look. He shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cSam Bates.\u201d the man opened the door of the house. \u201cNellie!\u201d<\/p>\n

A woman with streaks of grey in her chestnut collored hair entered, wiping her hands on her apron. \u201cSam, I didn’t expect you until noon.\u201d she glanced at Joe and Rat.<\/p>\n

\u201cGot some visitors. This here’s Joe Cartwright and Pattrick Miller. They’re on their way to Sacramento and got a little lost, so I told ’em you’d give ’em a meal before I set ’em straight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, of course.\u201d she smiled at them. \u201cMake yourselves at home while I throw something together.\u201d she disappeared back into the kitchen.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo where are you headed?\u201d Sam asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cSacramento, actually.\u201d Joe said.<\/p>\n

Sam laughed. \u201cThere’s a coincidence. You planning on walking?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s why God gave man legs.\u201d Rat said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, and he also gave us horses, wagons, and a rear end to sit in.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe perked up. \u201cI wouldn’t want to take you out of your way…\u201d he said hesitantly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’d been planning on going out there sometime this week anyway. Might as well go today. I’ll give you a ride.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d Joe could scarcely believe it.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou two boys eat while I hitch up the team.\u201d Sam left.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, I never realized people were capable of being nice.\u201d Rat said. \u201cSeems I always run into the ones with a mean streak.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Joe knew what he meant. He’d lost a little bit of faith in human nature while in prison. It was nice to see it starting to be restored.<\/p>\n

000000000000000<\/p>\n

Sam dropped them off on main street just outside the post office.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow you to keep out of trouble, you hear?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Mr. Bates.\u201d Joe jumped down from the wagon and he and Rat walked down the street.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I guess this is where we part, Cartwright.\u201d Rat said. \u201cI’m up north, and you’re out east.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou’re not sticking around?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere’s still a few hours of daylight left for me to travel by.\u201d He held out his hand. \u201cThanks, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. Patrick.\u201d Joe grinned and shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike I was gonna tell him my name’s rat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho gave you the nickname?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy little brother.\u201d he shook his head. \u201cWhen I left, he wasn’t up to my waist. Can’t believe I’m gonna see him again.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. \u201cTake care. Stop in sometime if you’re in the neighborhood.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure thing.\u201d Rat waved and was gone. Joe slowly looked around. It was like a dream that had slowly faded. San Quentin seemed a thousand miles away, and the Ponderosa seemed so close. But there was something he had to do first, and that was in Placerville. There was no way he could walk out there in what day was left though. He might as well find a place to spend the night. Joe glanced around as if a solution would present itself and caught sight of an elderly woman carrying a sack of groceries. He sprang forward.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me get those for you, ma’am.\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy thank you, young man. I usually have Carl do it for me, but he’d busy today and his boy’s out sick.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCarl?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCarl Robbins, the store owner. He knows I don’t like walking alone. But I suppose I can give him up for a fine young man like yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe smiled. \u201cJust where is this store?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight down the street. It’s got the red sign hanging from it.\u201d she eyed him. \u201cAre you new in town?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPassing through, ma’am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt’s too bad. It’s always nice seeing handsome young men around.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, ma’am.\u201d Joe said through his grin. He held open her door for her and she took the sack from him.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow you consider sticking around and I’ll consider having you be my permanent grocery carrier.\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think I’ll be moving on. Thank you though.\u201d Joe turned and walked away, shaking his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe store with the red sign.\u201d he murmured to himself. It was easy enough to find, and the lady hadn’t been lying; the store was full of people. He squeezed his way to the front counter.<\/p>\n

\u201cCarl Robbins?\u201d he asked the large, sweating man behind the counter. \u201cJoe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard you were a little shorthanded today. Thought you could use a hand for the rest of the afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d he asked suspiciously.<\/p>\n

\u201cDinner and enough food to get to Placerville.\u201d<\/p>\n

Robbins eyed Joe. \u201cWho did you say you were?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

He snorted. \u201cThat’s not what I meant, but I don’t have time to argue. Get in back, put an apron on, and then come back out here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe didn’t think he stood still once that entire afternoon or evening. Finally the last customer left, and Robbins locked the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell lad, I don’t know where you came from, but you came in the nick of time.\u201d he said. \u201cFill yourself a sack of supplies.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d Joe started getting some food together.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ll bet it’s an interesting story.\u201d Robbins went on as he began to wipe down the counter.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat’s that?\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere you’re going, where you came from. But you don’t seem too inclined to tell it, so I won’t pester you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, it is.\u201d Joe twisted the sack once and then tied it. He grabbed and apple and closed hie eyes when he bit down on it. Clearly he had forgotten what apples taste like. \u201cIt’s just a little complicated.\u201d he concluded.<\/p>\n

\u201cFair enough. You’re just a little young to be on your own is all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo I’ve been told.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHeading out tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNeed a place to spend the night?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cActually, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome here.\u201d he led Joe out back and unlocked another door from the ally. \u201cIt’s a supply room, but not much in there now except burlap sacks and boxes. Make yourself at home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, sir.\u201d Joe eyed the bare room, but it was worse than a lot of places he’d been.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon’t mention it. Good luck, son.\u201d Robbins shut and locked the door to the store and then left. Joe went into the tiny room, shutting the door behind him. He made himself comfortable on a pike of sacks and ate half of his food. The rest he tucked away back in the sack.<\/p>\n

He left town before anyone was stirring the next morning. As he walked, he tried to form a strategy for how exactly he was going to clear his name. There was one man who could help him, he decided, and that was Mr. Morgan. If anyone was going to know anything, it would be him. The question was how to talk to him without getting arrested again.<\/p>\n

He still hadn’t come up with a plan by the time he reached Placerville late that afternoon. Joe hesitated outside of town, and then decided to throw caution to the wind. He stepped forward right into the saloon.<\/p>\n

A few people looked up and then went back to their drinks. When no one pulled out a gun or ran for the sheriff, Joe, figured he was safe for the moment. He sat down at a corner table next to a familiar figure.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Morgan.\u201d<\/p>\n

The old man studied Joe for a few moments in silence. \u201cYou must’ve grown five years since I last saw ya.\u201d he finally said. \u201cHow was prison?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDelightful. Didn’t see you at my trial.\u201d<\/p>\n

He waved a hand. \u201cI don’t attend those monkey-fests. People yammering for justice and the greater good of society. Pah.\u201d he spit. \u201cSo what\u2019d you come back for?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomeone else robbed that store, and I have to find out who it was.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you think I did it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. But you have to know who did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat makes you say that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sit in this saloon all day just watching people; you have to know everything in this town.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s true.\u201d His eyes gave a little twinkle. \u201cBut nobody listens to an old coot in a saloon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you know who did it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d Joe could hardly believe it. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you say anything?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t you hear me? Because nobody listens to an old coot in a saloon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo who did it? Was it the sheriff?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat makes you say that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn’t send my telegram to my Pa. The operator told me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Morgan shook his head as he chewed on his mustache. \u201cThat sheriff is just too lazy to be out hunting crooks if he’s got one in his jail. The man you want is Michael Crane.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMichael Crane?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s what I said, ain’t it? You deaf or something?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Joe ran a hand through his hair. \u201cWho’s Michael Crane?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGuy that works around town. Takes care of the church and graveyard and a couple of other places.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you think it’s him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Morgan sat up and glared at Joe, his dark eyes gleaming dangerously. \u201cNo. I know it’s him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs you said once, I spend too much time studying people. Now that Crane, he acts like he’s thicker and a fencepost, but he’s got a brain in there alright. He takes what people leave on the graves and sells what he can. Finds things left on the floor, same thing. He’s always watching people too. You can always tell a man’s up to no good by the way he watches people. The whole week before your trial, he made himself pretty scarce, but the couple times he came into the saloon, he was jumpier than a hen in a foxhouse. The second you left town? Biggest grin in town. Came in here and bought Manning a drink, but he was celebrating just as much as Manning.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut there’s no evidence.\u201d Joe’s heart, which had jumped when Morgan had first started talking, settled back down to his toes. Without evidence there was no way of clearing his name.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe. Like I said, Crane is smart. He\u2019d wait a while to start spending the money, even after sending you to jail. Probably still has it hidden away somewhere now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo all we have to do is find it.\u201d Joe’s spirits instantly rose again, but Morgan snorted.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll? The man knows this area like the back of his hand. If he hid the money, you ain’t gonna just find it. But…\u201d he leaned back and started to chew his mustache again. \u201cwe might be able to convince him to confess. After all, I’m a pretty imposing figure, and a few months in prison might have sharpened your fighting skills a little.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe ignored the insult. \u201cWhere is he?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe’s got a little house about half a mile from town. Too early to head out there now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cToo early?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you ever heard of doing dark deeds in the middle of the day?\u201d Morgan snapped. Joe raised his hands in defeat.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can’t sit around town though; I might be seen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmph. I forgot, you’re a wanted man.\u201d Morgan eyed him for a couple of minutes. \u201cAlright, I’ll meet you on the outskirts by the road. We’ll head up there and sit tight ’til it gets dark. He’s like as not to be away from home at this time of day anyway, but we’ll wait for him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGreat.\u201d Joe started to stand up and then sat back down. He grabbed Morgan’s hat off his head and pulled it down low over his brow as the sheriff entered and sat down.<\/p>\n

\u201cLucky for you, our sheriff isn’t all that observant.\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf he’d been better at his job, I wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.\u201d Joe hissed. How was he supposed to get our of here now?<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I have my hat back?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust thought I’d ask.\u201d Morgan stood.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d Joe whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you I’d meet you on the outskirts, didn’t I? I’ve got some things to do before that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut…\u201d Joe groaned as Morgan walked away. Now what? He cast about the saloon helplessly, and his eyes fell on the dark-haired beauty he’d met the first time he’d been in town. She was leaning against the bar with the man who Joe instantly recognized, the overly-jealous one. He stared at the girl, willing her to look at him. Eventually she did, and he gestured for her to join him.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon’t I know you?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNope, first time in town.\u201d he said, banking on the fact that she hadn’t been at his trial either. She wouldn’t recognize him from being a customer, a girl who saw dozens of people in one day. \u201cBut I need your help.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’ll cost you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ll pay you back. Someday. Just get a couple of guys to start a fight. Please?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m a writer for the newspaper and I need an action piece.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don’t believe you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, this other guy has been outwriting me for months, and I really just need a story.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBar fights happen all the time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut not over you the most beautiful woman this side of the Mississippi.\u201d Joe said temptingly. She hesitated, and Joe went on, \u201cI can see the headlines right now: the Jewel of the west sought by men everywhere. It be such a thriller.\u201d<\/p>\n

She stood. \u201cJust make sure you spell my name right.\u201d she said. Then she moseyed back to the bar, stopping on her way to wink at a young man at a table.<\/p>\n

He followed her like a fish to bait. The other man stepped between the two, and when the young man tried to hit him, he was thrown across a table to his efforts. In less and a minute the bar was in an uproar. Joe edged his way along the wall and slipped outside while the sheriff was busy trying to stop the fight. As soon as he was out of the bar, Joe broke into a run. His footsteps felt as light as a galloping horse as exuberance welled inside him. They’d get Crane to confess and then he’d be on his way home. Joe took a deep breath. He still hadn’t lost the appreciation for the free open air of the outdoors, and it was even sweeter now that it looked like he might be able to keep enjoying it instead of being sent back to prison.<\/p>\n

Joe hid himself among the trees on the side of the road and waited. Morgan seemed to be taking his time. Sure he was an old man, but he was quick, and, Joe assumed, stronger than he looked. He wondered how the people of this town could so easily overlook and underestimate him.<\/p>\n

From his hiding place, Joe could see parts of the road, but not all. He kept his eyes on it as the minutes ticked by, and then nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a whistle close behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing, hiding like a rabbit back here? Come on then; we’ve got a way to go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat took you so long?\u201d Joe asked, annoyed at being so easily caught off guard.<\/p>\n

Morgan rattled a pack on his back. \u201cHad to get something to drink while waiting. You can make coffee, can’t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

***********<\/p>\n

They camped on the other side of a knoll, not far from Crane’s house, but far enough away that their small fire wouldn’t be noticed. Joe leaned against a fallen tree and watched the sun slowly merge with the horizon, sending streaks of pink and gold up into the sky. He took a sip of coffee and kept his eyes on the colors, watching them shift and sway as the sun slowly slid out of view. It was almost like watching water rippling, only this was a more subtle change. A couple of clouds slipped into the scene and were instantly stained a light shade of pink.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo once we get the money back, where are you headed?\u201d Morgan broke the spell of the moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cHome.\u201d Joe closed his eyes briefly as the word brought back images of the Ponderosa and his family. The scent of Hop Sign\u2019s cooking and the pine trees outside his window filtered through his mind, as strong as if he was there right now.<\/p>\n

\u201cHome eh? Why\u2019d you leave in the first place?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t feel like I fit.\u201d<\/p>\n

Morgan grunted. \u201cFitting anywhere takes effort, even in your own family. That ain\u2019t a good enough reason.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe not.\u201d Joe thought about all the emotions and feelings that had led up to the fight with Adam and then leaving. \u201cI guess I don\u2019t like people trying to make me fit a mold or control who I am or what I\u2019m going to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKid, you can travel all the way to China, and people will still be trying to make you something you don\u2019t want to be. You want to take control of your destiny? Speak up instead of running out or raising a fist.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSince when are you philosophical?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not. What did you put in the coffee?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. You know, when you get old you learn about life from painful experience, and you could easily tell someone how to live happily and easily. But they gotta make their own mistakes. You can preach to them all they want, they still won\u2019t listen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo why are you preaching to me?\u201d Joe said with a grin.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho knows? But I guess it\u2019s better than singing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably.\u201d Joe turned his eyes back to the sunset, but all that was left was a pink band along the horizon that was slowly being squeezed out by the dark blue sky. \u201cThink it’s dark enough for you ‘dark deeds’?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI reckon so.\u201d Morgan drained the rest of his coffee and kicked some dirt over their practically dead fire. Joe dumped out what was left in the coffee pot and put it and their two metal cups back into Morgan’s pack. Already it was getting hard to see.<\/p>\n

\u201cAfter you.\u201d Joe said.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course. You don’t know the way.\u201d Morgan brushed past Joe into the woods. Joe had to move faster than he would have thought necessary to keep up with him. Although he himself could hardly see, Morgan walked on like a cat, padding silently and effortlessly navigating through the underbrush. When a small house came into view, he stopped.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure you want to do this, kid?\u201d his whisper was barely audible. \u201cMight be tricky.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d Joe snapped.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlrighty then.\u201d he stepped out of the woods and walked up to the door. Joe followed. He didn’t think he could feel afraid if he’d wanted to. All he could think of right now, was five months in a stinking cage because of the man inside the house. He clenched his fists as Morgan knocked on the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes?\u201d a short, stocky man with black hair opened the door. \u201cMorgan, what…?\u201d then he looked past Morgan and saw Joe.<\/p>\n

Morgan lifted his hat. \u201cMind if we come in, Mr. Crane?\u201d he pushed past the astonished man without waiting for an answer, and Joe followed suit, shutting the door behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cMorgan, what’s this all about? I don’t know if you know, but that boy is a criminal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs he now?\u201d Morgan glanced at Joe. \u201cFunny, he thinks you’re the criminal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe?\u201d Crane’s nervous expression was gone, replaced by a practiced nonchalance. \u201cI didn’t have anything to do with this boy’s crime.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLiar.\u201d Joe spat. He wanted to tear Crane to pieces, but he felt Morgan silently holding him back.<\/p>\n

Crane glared at Joe. \u201cHardly. And unless you want to be dragged back to the jail that you miraculously managed to escape from, you’ll be on your way. Thief.\u201d his grin was like a polecat’s.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou’re the thief.\u201d Joe stepped forward, but Morgan held out a hand to stop him.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, the boy’s issued an accusation, Mr. Crane.\u201d he said. \u201cAre you denying it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am.\u201d Crane sent Joe a superior look, and Joe responded with one of loathing.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn’t rob that store?\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t do it then? Well, that sounds logical, huh Joe?\u201d with an easy movement, Morgan raised his gun and brought the butt down across Joe\u2019s head. He tumbled to the floor. For a moment everything was black. Then as things became lighter, the room started spinning. Morgan and Crane\u2019s voices bounced around in his head as he tried to focus.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, I brought the kid here for two reasons.\u201d Morgan was saying. \u201cOne: he wouldn\u2019t leave me alone, and two: if he sends a message to his father, there\u2019s gonna be a world of trouble for you. He\u2019ll believe that his kid is innocent, and he won\u2019t stop until he finds the man guilty. You.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou still think I did it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m counting on it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell you\u2019re wrong, Mr. Morgan.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmph. That\u2019s too bad.\u201d Joe dizzily saw Morgan raise his gun in the same careless manner and pull the trigger. Crane yelled, but there was no gunshot. Morgan stared confused for a second and then chuckled. \u201cSon of a gun. Forgot to load it. Hold on a second.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWait. Why would you kill me? I didn\u2019t do anything.\u201d Crane was visibly shaking as Morgan slid a bullet into his pistol.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI had my hopes set on a couple thousand dollars. You know, enough to get me whiskey for the rest of my life. But I guess you\u2019re no good to me\u2026\u201d he raised his gun again.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait! I can give you the money!\u201d Morgan raised his arms, bracing for the gunshot. Morgan hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA thousand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA thousand?\u201d Morgan chewed on his mustache thoughtfully. Joe tried to sit up but he couldn\u2019t seem to make his body respond. \u201cYou got around six thousand from the store, used two thousand of that to frame the kid\u2026\u201d Morgan gave Joe a slight kick in the head. Instantly the room became like a top that someone had respun after it had slowed down. \u201c\u2026 so it\u2019s only fair that I get half.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have four thousand. I used some of it. I\u2019ll give you fifteen hundred.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm.\u201d Joe fought to rise. Morgan was holding the gun loosely enough; if he could just get to it\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll throw in a wad of tobacco.\u201d Crane said. Morgan smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Crane, you\u2019ve got yourself a deal. Show me the money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s buried; I\u2019ll take you to it. What about the kid?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLeave him here \u2018til we get back. That way I know you won\u2019t double cross me. Got any rope?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n

Morgan grabbed Joe\u2019s wrists and tied them together, then he did his legs.<\/p>\n

\u201cTraitor.\u201d Joe hissed.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, kid; that’s for stealing my hat. Sit tight and I\u2019ll make sure I kill you quickly when I get back.\u201d He stood and was gone.<\/p>\n

Joe shifted so he wasn\u2019t lying on his arm. Inwardly was kicking himself for trusting Morgan. How could he have been such an idiot?<\/p>\n

Easy.<\/em>\u00a0His mind told him.\u00a0One thing at a time. There might still be a way out of this mess.<\/em>\u00a0He looked around for something he might be able to use to cut the rope. But everything that showed promise was out of reach. Joe’s hand twisted and contorted behind his back a he tried to loosen the knots. Morgan knew what he was doing, that was for sure. Joe cursed inwardly.<\/p>\n

That’s the last time I trust a dirty old man.<\/em>\u00a0What had been one of the first things they’d told him in prison? Trust only yourself. He should have taken that a little more to heart. Instead he’d decided to put his faith in the good side of humanity. What a mistake that had been.<\/p>\n

While Joe was still berating himself, the door opened, and Morgan walked in. Joe tensed, waiting for him to draw his gun and end it. Instead he tossed a dirty sack onto the floor.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll of it’s there, minus what he used to frame you.\u201d Morgan took out a knife, but instead of going for Joe’s throat, he cut the ropes on his wrists. \u201cYour man’s out cold outside. I’ll take him to the sheriff.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Joe blinked confusedly.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt takes someone crooked to cross a crook. Sorry about your head.\u201d<\/p>\n

The words made Joe reach up to touch the tender part of his skull. Instantly he wished he hadn’t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere’s a stage that comes through in the afternoon, right on to Virginia City. If you want to catch it, you might want to avoid getting entangled in the business of straightening all this out. Let the sheriff earn his salary for once.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don’t have any money.\u201d<\/p>\n

Almost before he’d finished the sentence, Morgan pressed some bills into his hand. Joe swallowed hard. \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just stole four thousand dollars; why should I care about money?\u201d Morgan grinned and hauled Joe to his feet. \u201cThink you can walk back to town?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn’t hit me that hard.\u201d Joe stepped outside the house and nearly tripped over an unconscious Crane. He hesitated for a moment as the desire to rip the man to shreds returned. Then he shrugged. The night air was crisp and cool, making Joe feel lightheaded. Maybe that had something to do with Morgan’s pistol landing on his skull, but Joe preferred to think it was because he was finally free.<\/p>\n

000000000000000<\/p>\n

\u201cPa!\u201d Hoss galloped up to the front door and barely took the time to tie up Chubb before running to the door. \u201cPa!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat’s the matter, Hoss?\u201d Ben met his son at the door. For an instant his jaw clenched with worry, but the anxiety quickly disappeared when he saw the jubilant look on his Hoss’s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere was a telegram today from the sheriff of Placerville.\u201d Hoss paused to catch his breath. He didn’t think he’d breathed at all on the ride back from Virginia City. \u201cHe asked about Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLittle Joe?\u201d Ben felt the blood drain from his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt said something about the man who committed the crime that Joe was sent to prison for being found, and he wants to get word to him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPrison?\u201d Ben struggled to make sense of Hoss’s confusing information. \u201cBut if he was in prison, why would he be asking me? And if Joe was arrested, why didn’t he send word?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess you’d have to ask the sheriff of Placerville.\u201d Hoss handed Ben the telegram.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s exactly what I intend to do.\u201d Ben strode toward the barn and then turned. \u201cHoss, you and Adam stay here. I’ll get to the bottom of this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYessir.\u201d Hoss took his hat off, wiped his brow, and then went to unsaddle his horse. He sure wouldn’t want to be in that sheriff’s shoes when Pa rode into town and demanded to know why his son had been sent to prison and where he was now. No sir, he didn’t envy that sheriff one bit.<\/p>\n

***********<\/p>\n

Placerville. So close, it was absurd, less than a hundred miles from the Ponderosa. Why hadn’t he thought to look there? Ben could only hope his neglect of the town hadn’t caused too much damage. His mind ran over the telegram again and again as he rode. It was simple enough: MAN WHO COMMITTED CRIME YOUR SON WAS INCARCERATED FOR FOUND STOP REQUEST INFORMATION ON WHEREABOUTS TO INFORM HIM STOP. It didn’t get much simpler, but Ben sensed a complicated story behind the words. One that he hoped to get to the bottom of as soon a possible.<\/p>\n

He reined in his horse in front of the sheriff’s office and strode inside. He took in the man at the desk in one glance and instantly disliked him. Too offhandish somehow, as if he simply wanted to sit back and control his town from a distance. Ben pushed the thoughts aside and held out his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cBen Cartwright.\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

The sheriff stood. \u201cSheriff Jim McClain. I see you got my telegram, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, and I would like to know what it’s about.\u201d Ben said sharply. It was the tone of voice that commanded respect from farmers, ranch hands, and business men alike, and it worked on the sheriff too. He straightened and cleared his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust what it said Mr. Cartwright. Your son convicted of robbery about five months ago and sent to San Quentin State Prison. Recently I was informed that he escaped. Then last night one of our locals turned in the man who actually committed the crime, and I’ve been trying to locate the boy to tell him that he was cleared.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut why wasn’t I notified when he was arrested?\u201d Ben demanded. \u201cHe didn’t send a telegram?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sheriff McClain cleared his throat again, this time nervously. \u201cHe didn’t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen how did you know how to find me when you sent this telegram?\u201d Ben slapped the paper on the sheriff\u2019s desk. The sheriff squirmed under Ben\u2019s gaze as the rancher tried to decide if it would be better to continue talking or to punch him over the head. Before he could make up his mind, the door creaked open.<\/p>\n

\u201cSee you have company, Sheriff.\u201d a rusty old voice came from behind a shaggy grey beard.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot now, Morgan.\u201d But the sheriff seemed glad to have another person there. Clearly he thought Mr. Cartwright had been going to resort to the punching method.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou’re Ben Cartwright, I presume?\u201d the old man acted as if the sheriff hadn’t said a word.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d Ben followed suit and ignored the sheriff, stepping toward the old man.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell he can’t tell you anything. Spent almost the entire time with his boots up on the desk and buttocks in that there chair.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI believe it.\u201d Ben continued to ignore the indignant looks he was getting from McClain. \u201cAnd you are?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPaul Morgan.\u201d he jerked his head sideways. \u201cI don’t like to be inside. Makes me feel closet-phobic, if you know what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben suppressed a smile and followed Morgan out into the street.<\/p>\n

\u201cI saw you come riding up like a tribe of wild injuns was on your tail, and I figured you were the kid’s Pa. Say, you haven’t got any tobacco on you, do ya?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? No, no, I’m sorry.\u201d Ben felt impatience rising up inside himself again. He clenched and unclenched his fists.<\/p>\n

\u201cNever mind then. Was worth a shot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Morgan, please, how do you know my son?\u201d Ben resisted the urge to grab the man by his collar and shake him.<\/p>\n

\u201cI met him the first time he came through town a few months back. We talked and went our separate ways. I thought he was off to N’Orleans like he’d said, but next thing I know a store’s been robbed and they’re calling him the guilty one. Sheriff found him with the money on the road. Simple trial, right? So the judge sends him off to good old Quentin, and that’s the end of that. Or so people thought.\u201d he started to chuckle. \u201cYou know, the way you went after that sheriff, I can see where the boy gets his gumption. He’s not one to let anyone tell him no when he says yes.\u201d he shook his head. \u201cYes sir, quite the kid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe sheriff said he escaped.\u201d Ben tried to steer Morgan back on topic.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight. Guess there was some sort of fire and a whole bunch of prisoners got loose. Lucky for him too, cuz if it’d just been him he’d ‘ave been caught quicker’n an albino squirrel. Nothing against your son, Mr. Cartwright, but he’s got a bit to learn. Still, he made it back here in one piece, so I guess he’s smarter than he looks. Smart enough to come to me for help.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHelp with what?\u201d Ben wasn’t sure when this man’s ramblings would reveal something useful.<\/p>\n

\u201cCatching the real thief. Which we did. Made quick work of him too. Then I sent him on his way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn his way to where?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVirginia City.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVirginia City.\u201d Ben exhaled in relief. \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon’t bother. Hitting Crane over the head is something I’d been wanting to do for a while now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat time did he leave?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe stage came through at a little after two. I told him to make sure to be on it. Otherwise that sheriff would have him here for a week trying to sort through the mess he left behind. I figured once was enough to be in trouble with the law.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben studied Morgan. \u201cYou mean the sheriff…\u201d<\/p>\n

Morgan cut him off with a wave of his hand. \u201cHe’s honest, or mostly honest. He just doesn’t like extra work, or being wrong. He woulda kept Joe here a while for spite.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, thank you again, Mr. Morgan.\u201d Ben turned to remount his horse.<\/p>\n

\u201cSay, Cartwright.\u201d Morgan stepped forward. \u201cIt’s a ways back, and your animal’s tired. Take an hour or so to rest. You buy the tobacco, I’ll buy the whiskey. Deal?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben hesitated, but Morgan was right. Buck was tired, and if what Morgan had said was true, Little Joe was on the way home now. Provided that he didn’t get into more trouble, he would be there when he got back anyway, so he might a well let his horse rest. He smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cPoint me in the direction of the saloon.\u201d<\/p>\n

Morgan clapped him on the back. \u201cRight this way, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

It was after nightfall when the stage rattled into Virginia City. Joe had spent the morning hiding in the livery stable hay loft waiting for it and then the afternoon inside being bounced and jostled against a fat man and a smelly one. When it finally arrived and he stepped outside, he wanted to kneel down and kiss the ground. He glanced around the familiar street, breathing deeply, then his eye stopped at the livery stable. Maybe he could get a horse and Pa would pay for it later. It was a long walk to the Ponderosa.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, look who\u2019s back in town.\u201d a familiar voice called out behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cJake.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe.\u201d The freckled young man studied Joe warily, and he stared back, like two cats before a fight. Then Joe shook his head to clear it. His first order of business was to get back home; Jake could wait until later. Like after Pa let him out of the closet he would lock Joe in when he got home.<\/p>\n

\u201cLater, Jake.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWait a minute Cartwright. You\u2019ve been gone a while; where you been?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPrison.\u201d Joe kept walking with Jake right on his heels.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally? All this time? You\u2019re Pa put out that you\u2019d run off.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYep, I ran off to prison. Seemed like an ideal place, free room and board and plenty of roommates to arm wrestle with. I was actually the champion there; that\u2019s why they let me out.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jake snorted. \u201cYou couldn\u2019t beat me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI already did. Before I left, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, but you don\u2019t look like you\u2019ve been eating too good. You\u2019ve lost a bit of muscle there, Little Joe.\u201d He punched Joe\u2019s arm. \u201cI doubt you could beat me now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stopped. If he could get around Pa having to pay for a horse, it was worth a little extra time.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour horse in town?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I win, I borrow your horse for the night so I can ride out to the Ponderosa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen how will I get home?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got two legs. But I thought you said I couldn\u2019t win.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jake crossed his arms as he thought. Joe waited. He was pretty sure Jake had already decided to take the bet; right now he was probably thinking of what he wanted if Joe lost.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright.\u201d Jake finally said. \u201cBut when you lose, I get that knife of yours with the engraved handle.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDeal.\u201d He could always get another knife, Joe decided as he led the way across the street to the general store. It was closed, but there was a small table out front.<\/p>\n

Joe sat and put his elbow on it, arm raised. Jake grabbed his hand, mirroring Joe\u2019s stance. For an instant they were both relaxed, and then they both tensed and locked against each other. Joe waited, matching Jake\u2019s strength, but not trying to overcome it. Not yet. He had lost some muscle in jail, but he was still pretty sure he could win. He just wanted to tire Jake out a little first. After a few minutes of being equally matched, Joe began to push harder. Jake\u2019s hand slowly lowered, then he started pushing back harder. His face grew red as he steadily moved Joe\u2019s hand back upright and then began to bring it down.<\/p>\n

Joe gritted his teeth and pushed back. As they both struggled, Jake\u2019s hand slowly began to move downward. Joe continued to fight, his eyes locked on Jake\u2019s hand, which was only a few inches from the table. He didn\u2019t notice Jake\u2019s other fist until it landed on the side of his head. Then he felt himself rolling off the chair and into the wall of the store. Instantly he was on his feet, a grin on his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo that\u2019s the way you want to play?\u201d He muttered before hurling himself at Jake. They both crashed through the porch railing and into the dusty street.<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s fist struck Jake\u2019s nose right before he felt his own eye get hit. He got knocked down and then sprung right up in time to hit Jake in the stomach. Jake leaned forward and managed to dodge Joe\u2019s next blow. He pushed Joe backwards, and Joe grabbed onto him right before he splashed into a water trough, pulling Jake with him. For a moment they both floundered, and for a brief moment Joe, who was beneath Jake and barely able to get his head above the water, wondered if was going to drown. Then Jake climbed out, and Joe sprang up, He backed Jake against the wall with a couple of punches, then Jake ducked and hit him on the side of the head where Morgan\u2019s gun had struck. For a moment everything went blurry, and he felt himself crashing backwards into the store window. He raised his arms to shield his face from falling glass. Jake jumped through the window, and Joe grabbed his leg, sending him sprawling across the floor and into a display of fabric. For a moment Jake blinded by the material, and Joe got a few good punches in. From somewhere in the back of his mind he heard people yelling, but he was too focused on the fight. With adrenaline pumping through him, he felt more exhilarated than he had in months.<\/p>\n

Jake sprang from the fabric and grabbed onto Joe. Joe shoved him backwards, and they both fell into a shelf along the wall. Jars rained down on them, breaking as they hit the boys and the floor, and in an instant they were both covered in spices. Joe sent a solid punch toward Jake and scrambled to his feet, trying to breathe through the multitudes of aromas that were sticking to the inside of his nose, and everywhere else on him for that matter. Then Jake was back up and hurling himself into Joe. They fell backwards again, and Joe grabbed onto one of Jake’s arms. With the other hand he aimed a fist at Jake\u2019s face. Then he felt a pair of arms dragging him away. Someone else had grabbed hold of Jake.
\n\u201cWhat is the meaning of this?\u201d the sheriff demanded. He looked from one boy to the other. Jake brushed off the hands that were holding him back and Joe gasped for air. Their eyes met, and they both seemed to shrug. There really wasn\u2019t much of a meaning or reason. It was just a bad place to be having a fight.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy window!\u201d The store owner seemed to agree. \u201cAnd my spices! Sheriff, these ruffians have cost me over fifty dollars worth of damages.\u201d The small, skinny man seemed to have grown three feet as he joined the sheriff in glaring at the boys.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell? Do either of you have enough money to compensate Mr. Nolan?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know we don\u2019t, Sheriff.\u201d Jake said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know. Come on boys.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are we going?\u201d Jake asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cDown to the jail. You two can cool your heels until your fathers give me enough money to pay Mr. Nolan off.\u201d He gave Joe a gentle push.<\/p>\n

\u201cI just got out of jail too.\u201d Joe muttered. The scene was getting to be too familiar: follow the sheriff into the jail, get escorted out back and into a cell, and then, after being locked in, sit and wait.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks a lot.\u201d Joe slumped onto the cot. He wiped his face on the blanket and stared at his clothes. They would probably smell for weeks. \u201cMy Pa\u2019s gonna kill me. I mean, there was already a good chance of him killing me before, but now it\u2019s pretty much set in stone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAw come on, Joe. I was just welcoming you home. So when do I get my knife?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour knife?\u201d Joe threw the blanket down. \u201cYou didn\u2019t win.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNeither did you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause you hit me before I could beat you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t have won.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWanna rematch?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine. But you\u2019re not getting my knife.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I don\u2019t need your stupid horse anymore, idiot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine.\u201d Jake propped his arm up. \u201cBy the way, you have a black eye.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo do you.\u201d Joe reached up to touch his right eye and then winced. \u201cThink anyone will notice?\u201d he muttered. Already it felt like it had swollen to almost twice its size.<\/p>\n

\u201cNah. Not when you consider wreck you already look like.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs if you look much better.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAt least I\u2019ve got more meat on my bones. Thought you said the food was free in prison?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, if you could eat it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat were you in for?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGot framed for robbing a store.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019d you get out?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere was a fire and I escaped, then I found the guy who did it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNice. Hey, sorry about your eye.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, sorry about your nose.\u201d Joe glanced at it. \u201cI think the bleeding stopped though, in case you\u2019re wondering.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah?\u201d Jake felt it. \u201cThought it was broken for a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n

They both looked up as the sheriff entered and unlocked the cell door. \u201cYou\u2019re pa\u2019s here, Jake.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLooks like we\u2019ll have to rematch later, Joe.\u201d Jake called over his shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight.\u201d Joe lay on the cot and closed his eyes. His skin itched all over from the spices, but at least he couldn\u2019t smell it anymore. Why couldn\u2019t they have fallen into the water rough after they\u2019d broken the shelves?<\/p>\n

Nothing can be easy, can it?<\/em>\u00a0He railed at himself.\u00a0Everything has to be complicated. Sure, you could have just gotten a horse or even walked out to the Ponderosa, but no, you have to get into a fight and end up breaking half the general store.<\/em>\u00a0Joe couldn\u2019t easily imagine the look on his Pa\u2019s face, and it made him grimace.\u00a0So much for a happy homecoming.<\/em><\/p>\n

Joe jumped up when the door reopened and the Sheriff entered. As he unlocked the cell door, Joe braced himself for what his father would say. Then he stopped short as he entered the office.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got quite the knack for trouble.\u201d His older brother said. He stood only a few feet away, but it could have easily been on the other side of the world.<\/p>\n

Joe shifted uncomfortably. \u201cWhere\u2019s Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOut in Placerville. He got a telegram from the Sheriff there asking if we knew your whereabouts because they\u2019d caught the man who did the robbery that you were incarcerated for.\u201d Adam\u2019s tone held a question.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. It\u2019s a long story.\u201d Joe looked up at Adam. All his life it had been like Adam had towered over him, but now he seemed as if he could actually see eye to eye with him.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo where were you headed when this happened?\u201d he glanced up and down Joe\u2019s spice covered clothes.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Ponderosa. I\u2026\u201d Joe took a deep breath. \u201cI was stupid. And it actually didn\u2019t take me six months to figure that out, but I got a little sidetracked as you learned from the telegram.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I guess it takes two.\u201d Adam clapped a hand on Joe\u2019s shoulder. \u201cWere you planning on walking back or did you need a ride?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe grinned, all the tension melting away faster than snow after a spring rain. \u201cI’ll arm wrestle you for your horse.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think you can beat me?\u201d Adam stared down at his brother with incredulous amusement.<\/p>\n

\u201cNah. But I could probably beat you at checkers now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have a lot of free time in prison, and I got several lessons from the best.\u201d Joe told him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou’re on then.\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n

**********<\/p>\n

It was nearly two in the morning when Ben rode up in front of his house, and he was surprised to see that there were still lights on. He wrapped his reins around the hitching post and quickly walked up to the door. When he opened it he stopped short. His three sons were staring intensely at the checkerboard, so intensely that none of them seemed to have noticed his entrance. Bed let out a long breath at the sight of Little Joe. He looked like he’d gotten on the wrong side of a professional boxer, but other than that he seemed very much alright, and from the looks of the checkerboard, he was managing to beat both Hoss and Adam. For some reason he hadn’t let himself fully believe what Paul Morgan had told him until he saw Joe at home with his own eyes. Ben stepped forward to get a better look at the board. None of his sons\u2019 concentration wavered.<\/p>\n

\u201cGive it up, boys, he\u2019s got you beat.\u201d He said to Hoss and Adam. The three young men jumped.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa! When did you get back?\u201d Hoss was the first to find his voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust now.\u201d Ben noticed Little Joe hesitantly standing by the chair he\u2019d jumped out of. He reached out and arm and in one swift movement had pressed his son to his chest. When Little Joe winced, he released the pressure.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour friend Mr. Morgan didn\u2019t mention that you were in such rough shape when you left Placerville.\u201d He studied the various different shades of purple on Joe\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that didn\u2019t exactly happen in Placerville.\u201d Joe said hesitantly.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh?\u201d Ben raised his eyebrows.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s been to the doctor already.\u201d Adam stepped in, changing the subject so Joe wouldn’t have to explain to Ben about the fight. \u201cDoc says he just needs a couple days of rest to recuperate and then he\u2019ll be good as new.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExactly.\u201d Joe looked gratefully at his older brother.<\/p>\n

\u201cRest, is it? Then what are you doing up at this hour?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh…\u201d Joe turned to Adam, who shrugged. He wasn’t going to fight all of Little Joe’s battles for him.<\/p>\n

\u201cTo bed.\u201d Ben said. \u201cYour game can wait until the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBed, Joseph.\u201d The boy may have looked alert, but Ben could see telltale signs of fatigue.<\/p>\n

As Joe turned to go, Ben caught his arm and pulled him back in another hug.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd don’t you ever worry me like that again, do you hear?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d Joe’s voice was muffled as he spoke into his father’s shirt. He inhaled deeply, breathing in his father’s scent all all that in meant: comfort, safety, belonging. Joe closed his eyes. He was home.<\/p>\n

Next Story in The Prodigal Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

The Outlaw<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
Disclaimer:<\/span>\u00a0All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0A fight with Adam causes fifteen-year-old Joe to leave the ranch, and events take a turn for the worse, making it impossible for him to return home whether he wants to or not. \u00a0<\/p>\n

Rated:\u00a0K (29,195 words)<\/p>\n

The Prodigal Series, links to all the stories within the series included.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":216,"featured_media":383,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[1091,7,23],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7228","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adam-joe","category-a-u","category-drama","wpcat-1091-id","wpcat-7-id","wpcat-23-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/coming-soon-9.jpg?fit=320%2C240&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7228","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/216"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7228"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7228\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/383"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7228"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7228"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7228"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}