Unwilling Accomplice
Written By Rona Y.
“I’ll
get the mail after I’ve been to the bank, Pa,” Joe Cartwright said, pulling his
horse to a stop beside the buckboard. “I’ll meet you back here.”
“All
right, Joe,” Ben said, as he slid down from the seat. “But don’t stay all day
at the bank with Mary Wilson, you hear? I’d like to get home again tonight.”
“Me,
too, Pa,” Hoss commented from the other side of the buckboard.
Giving
his family a grin, Joe rode off down the street. Ben watched him go. It seemed
odd not to see Joe on his pinto, Cochise, but today
Joe was riding Dusk, a black gelding that he had recently broken to saddle. The
horse needed the work, and Joe had opted to ride him into town, where he could
get used to the different sights and sounds. So far, the horse was proving
quite reliable.
“Joe
sure is keen on that Mary Wilson, Pa,” Hoss commented, as they went into the
general store. “Reckon it’s serious?”
“Serious?”
Ben scoffed. “Joe? Hardly!” They laughed together as
Ben went to greet the storekeeper.
************
Trotting
Dusk gently down the street, Joe nodded to a few people he knew, and stopped
outside the bank. Mary was the bank president’s daughter, and Joe had been
walking out with her for a few weeks now. There was a dance on Saturday night
at the hotel, and Joe hoped Mary would go with him. She was a pretty girl, with
silky dark hair, and brown eyes.
Tethering
the horse securely, Joe stroked his velvet nose for a moment to reassure him,
and then headed towards the bank. The door was closed, which was a little
unusual, given that it was a nice day, but Joe thought nothing of it. He turned
the handle and walked briskly in. Someone came up beside him from behind the
door, and Joe glanced with surprise at Pete Scott. The cowboy seldom had any
money, and finding him in the bank was a surprise.
“Hi,
Pete,” Joe said, and was astounded when Pete stuck a gun into his ribs, and
removed his gun from its holster, all in one smooth movement. Warily, Joe
raised his hands.
Looking
round, Joe saw what had escaped his notice at first. The bank was being robbed,
and the men he had thought were customers were actually holding the place up.
Joe guessed that Pete was meant to be guarding the door, and keeping people
out, but had become distracted – a trait of his – and so Joe had managed to get
in.
The
bank staff, including Mary and her father, were being
held in a group at the back of the bank. The vault was open, and one man was
putting money into a bag. Another man held a gun on them from the main part of
the bank. “Who’s he?” he asked Pete, in a rough voice.
“Little
Joe Cartwright,” Pete answered, nervously. This man, Joe deduced, was in
charge.
“Cartwright?”
the man repeated, sharply. “As in the Ponderosa Cartwrights?”
“Yeah,”
Pete agreed.
“Well,
he can stay here with the others,” said the man. “Hurry up, there,” he ordered
the man who was emptying the vault.
“Got
it,” the other responded, and turned back.
The
leader went to the window and glanced out. “It looks quiet,” he announced.
“Let’s get going.” He motioned for Joe to walk over to the rest of the
hostages.
Reluctantly,
Joe took a step, and as soon as he moved, Pete’s attention wavered. Joe
whirled, and lashed out at Pete, catching him a glancing blow on the chin. Pete
staggered, but before Joe could do anything else, the leader stepped forward
and hit Joe down the cheek with his gun butt. Joe fell to his knees, pain
rocketing down his face. Mary screamed as she saw the blood.
The
scream had attracted attention from outside. People were hurrying towards the
bank looking anxious. The leader cursed, and dragged Joe to his feet. He
twisted Joe’s arm up behind his back, and dug his gun under Joe’s chin, forcing
his head up painfully. “This is your fault, sonny,” he whispered menacingly.
“So you’re gonna come with us. That your nag
outside?” When Joe refused to answer, he dug the barrel of the gun even harder
into Joe’s flesh and clicked the safety off. “Well?”
“Yes,”
Joe grated.
“All
right, men, let’s go,” the leader said. “Keep behind me an’ the kid, an’ keep
your guns ready.”
A
collective gasp rose from the crowd outside the bank as the door opened and Joe
was forced through it. His face was grazed and bleeding where he had been
struck, and the gun was still angled into his chin. Untold, the crowd moved
back.
Luck
was on the robbers’ side, for Sheriff Coffee was nowhere to be seen. They kept
the people backing off, as they mounted their horses. The leader kept Joe
covered until one of his men was mounted, and took Joe’s rein, keeping his gun
on him, then the leader mounted and they began to ride slowly away.
Attracted
by the crowd, Hoss peered down the street. “Pa, look at that,” he said, as Ben
came out of the store, carrying a bag of grain. “There’s trouble o’ some kind
down at the bank.”
“Joe,”
Ben said, and dropped the sack as he started to run. Hoss followed him.
It
took only moments for them to cover the distance between store and bank, and
they clearly recognised Joe’s green jacket and tan hat. “Joe!” Ben called, and
his son turned his head. Ben caught his breath. Joe sent him one look of
entreaty, before the outlaws spurred the horses to greater speed, and fled the
city.
*************
The
town was in an uproar.
He
patted Mary’s hand, and followed
“Get
a posse together,”
“Hoss
is hiring horses from the livery right now,” Ben said. “Someone is taking a
message out to Adam at the ranch. I’ve asked him to stay put in case they
release Joe, and he makes his own way home.”
“Good,”
“I
hope so,” Ben said, fervently. “I hope so.”
************
They
rode at a gallop for sometime before finally slowing, and turning off the main
road. Pete was lagging behind to brush out the tracks, and Joe’s heart sank. He
had hoped he would be abandoned by the roadside, probably knocked out, and his
horse stolen, but he hadn’t figured on them keeping him with them. His face
throbbed painfully, a reminder not to cross the gang leader.
They
finally rode into a box canyon, and Joe could see at once that it was easily
defensible, and had only one way in. He later discovered that there was a track
leading out the back that could be traversed on foot. It was apparent that they
had been there for several days, as there was a small fire burning in a fire
pit, several bags and a picket line.
“Get
off your horse,” the leader said, and Joe did as he was told. He didn’t need a
gun to tell him to behave. He was helpless.
“That
was a very foolish thing you did back there, Mr Joe Cartwright,” the leader
said, as he bound Joe’s hands behind him. “I hadn’t planned on bringing you
along, but your stupid action made me change my mind. But you could be quite
useful. You’re well known round these parts, an’ I‘m sure the bank cashiers in
the smaller towns won’t want to get you killed, so they’ll hand over the money
just to keep you alive.”
“You’re
scum,” Joe said, angrily. He was disgusted to think he would be made an
unwilling accomplice in this man’s scheming.
Swinging
Joe around, the leader buried his fist in the youth’s stomach. Joe doubled
over, gasping. “I’d be careful if I were you,” he warned. “You might not be so
pretty by the time I’m finished with you, boy.” He pushed Joe over to the rock
wall, and made him sit down. With casual efficiency, he tied Joe’s feet. “You
do as you’re told, an’ I might let you go. Eventually.”
Watching
the leader walking away, Joe was annoyed that he had tried to make a break for
it. It was another prime example of what Adam termed his ‘act first, think
after’ policy of life, and look where it had got him. He tried the ropes, but
there was no give in them. With an exasperated sigh, Joe leaned on the rock
wall behind him, and waited to see what would happen.
***************
When
he got the message from his father, Adam’s first reaction was to shoot the messenger,
even though it wasn’t his fault. However, his calm resonableness
prevailed before he could do more than just think of shooting the poor lad from
the stable, and he simply thanked the boy and gave him a dollar for his
trouble. Going back into the house, Adam closed the door and leant on it. It
was always Joe who got into trouble, and they often joked that sending him to
the bank was almost tantamount to it being robbed. But this was serious.
Crossing
to stand by the fire, Adam re-read
the note.
Joe kidnapped
by bank robbers. He isn’t hurt badly. Please stay at the house in case he is
released and makes his own way home. Hoss and I are going with the posse. More
news when we get it.
The part that troubled Adam the most was the
second sentence. ‘He isn’t hurt badly.’ What did that mean? Did it mean that
Joe had been shot or knocked out? What? How Adam wished that Hoss was the one
who’d been left at home that morning. Hoss had the better temperament for
waiting.
After
a moment, Adam realised that Hop Sing was standing there looking at him
expectantly. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” Adam asked.
“Something
bad happen,” Hop Sing said, with certainty. “Lil Joe hurt?”
“I
don’t know,” Adam answered, and showed the cook the note. Hop Sing read it, his
face grave.
“Father
knows what best,” he assured Adam. “He bring home Number Three son.”
“Yes,
I know he will,” Adam replied, and smiled at the small man. “Thanks, Hop Sing.”
Muttering
something in Cantonese, Hop Sing went back to the kitchen. Adam stared into the
fire again. He wondered how one earth he would fill his time until Joe came
home, or he got some news.
**************
The
tracks led off the road, and disappeared. Hoss dismounted and began to scout
around, hoping to pick them up again. One of the deputies went with him. Ben
sat on his hired horse and looked round. Several hours had passed since Joe had
been kidnapped, and his anxiety was spiralling out of sight. With every minute
that passed with no sign of Joe, Ben knew that the chances of his son being
released were getting smaller and smaller. They would soon lose the light, and
be forced to return empty-handed.
It
was knowing who held Joe that made Ben even more uncomfortable than he had
been. Mary and her father had picked out the man from the wanted posters. The
gang leader was called Luke Henry, and he was wanted in many territories and
states for robbery and murder. He had killed at least 4 men in the course of
his many robberies, and now he had Joe.
The
other men had been identified as part of Henry’s gang, and the cowboy that Joe
recognised as Pete Scott. Scott had once been an employee of the Ponderosa, but
he had the attention span of a gnat, and he hadn’t lasted long. Ben wondered
how long he would last under Henry’s brutal regime. It was well known amongst
lawmen that Henry would shoot anyone who crossed him, and his gang changed with
frightening regularity.
By
now, most of the men were off their horses and scouting carefully for tracks. Ben
looked up at the sky, and estimated that they had perhaps an hour of daylight
left.
The
men searched until the light was too poor to see by. Reluctantly, they mounted
up, and rode back to town. “We’ll leave at dawn,”
“No,
we’ll go home and tell Adam the news,” Ben said. “We’ll be back here for dawn,
*************
Adam
greeted them at the door. The expectant look on his face faded as he saw that
Joe wasn’t with them. He summoned hands to unload the supplies and tend to the
horses, and followed his father and brother inside. “What happened?” he asked.
Sitting
wearily at the table, Ben looked with distaste at the plate in front of him. He
knew he had to eat, but his appetite was gone. “Joe went to the bank to ask
Mary to the dance,” Ben said. “He walked in on a robbery. The gang is led by a
Luke Henry, and Pete Scott is part of it. Scott was apparently supposed to be
watching the door, but you know how long he can concentrate on things, and he
wasn’t paying any attention to the door when Joe simply walked in.” Ben sighed.
“It seems that they were just going to leave Joe with the bank staff, but he
threw a punch at Scott, and Henry decided to take him along as a hostage.”
“You
said in the note that he wasn’t hurt bad. What’s wrong with him?” Adam asked,
deeply concerned.
“When
Joe went after Scott, Henry hit him in the face with his gun. Joe’s face was
bleeding when we saw him riding off with the gang.” Ben’s stomach contracted as
he remembered the moment he had seen Joe’s face. “Its difficult to say how bad
it is, son. I couldn’t get close enough.”
There
was silence as they all picked at their meal. “So does
Quietly,
Ben recounted all his crimes. Adam’s eyes stayed locked on Ben. “That’s bad,”
he said. “And
“Joe
ain’t ridin’ Cochise,” Hoss said. “He took Dusk into town.”
Dismayed,
Adam couldn’t find anything to say. The job of locating Joe had just become a
whole lot harder.
***********
At
dawn next day, all three Cartwrights were waiting for
the posse. They were all hollow eyed from lack of sleep, but they had to be
with the posse. Hop Sing was waiting at home on the remote chance that Joe
either was released, or broke free. None of them believed that either of these
options was likely.
They
began looking again at the point where they had been forced to call a halt the
night before. The men dismounted and began to comb the undergrowth, looking for
tracks. At
It
was well into the afternoon when Hoss gave a shout. Everyone converged on his
position, and he held up a broken branch that had clearly been used to brush
out the tracks. They spread out again, looking for tracks, but there weren’t
any to be seen. The ground was too rocky.
“We’ll
split into groups, and spread out to see what we can find,”
They
mounted up and set off, but after an hour fruitless searching, they met up to
report no finds. Ben was bitterly disappointed, and wanted to keep on looking,
but the sky had been clouding over steadily for the past while, and even as
they sat there, the first drops of heavy rain began to fall. Soon, any tracks
there might have been would be obliterated.
Once
more, the Cartwrights had to ride home without Joe.
**************
The
rain was just the final straw in what had been a very uncomfortable day for
Joe. He had spent a cold night sleeping on the ground, still bound hand and
foot, and morning had brought no relief. Grudgingly, Henry had allowed Joe to
be fed, but the youth was ignored apart from that. Joe had sat and observed the
gang, and what he had seen didn’t reassure him any. All the gang watched Henry
at all times. They jumped the moment he spoke, and Joe had already seen signs
of an almost uncontrollable temper in some of the things Henry had become angry
at.
As
the rain started, Joe hunched up his shoulders in a vain attempt to keep the
water from running under his collar. The outlaws all donned rain gear, and sat
huddled by the hissing fire. The rain was heavy, with some thunder and
lightning, and Joe was soon soaked to the skin. He shivered as the wind whipped
over the rock wall at his back. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been
so downright miserable.
“Aw,
poor Little Joe’s all wet,” said a sneering voice, and Joe turned his head to
give Scott a dark look.
It
took an effort, but Joe clenched his teeth, and kept back the retort that
wanted to spring to his lips. He looked away. Scott took exception to this, and
grabbed Joe’s shoulder, pulling him to his feet, where Joe swayed, balanced
uneasily on his bound feet.
“Don’t
look down your nose at me, Cartwright!” Scott shouted. He drew his gun and
pointed it in Joe’s face. “I’m in charge here. You’ve gotta
do what I tell you!”
“Leave
him alone, Pete,” Henry said, from the fire, where he had been watching.
“Aw,
Luke, he still thinks he’s so great,” Scott whined. “I just wanted to teach him
a lesson.”
“Leave
him alone!” Henry repeated, and he sounded angry. His long-term gang members
looked uneasy.
“Don’t
rile him, Pete,” Joe said, quietly. “He’s dangerous.”
“Don’t
tell me what to do!” Scott shouted. “I don’t have to do what you Cartwrights say anymore! How’d you like that?” he demanded,
and punched Joe in the stomach.
As
Joe feel, a gun went off, and Pete toppled to the ground beside Joe. Gasping
for breath, Joe saw with horror that Pete was dead. He swallowed against the
sickness that rose in this throat. Footsteps approached and Henry crouched
beside Joe. The smoking gun was still in his hand.
“He
shouldn’t have riled me,” he said, casually. “Hope he didn’t hurt you too much.
I need ya tomorrow when we rob the bank at Mormon
Flats.” Straightening, Henry beckoned to one of the gang. “Get rid of the
body,” he ordered. “It makes the place look untidy.” He laughed, as though he
had said something funny, and walked away.
Lying
on his side, Joe watched as Pete’s body was dragged away. He knew that his life
depended on the whim of the man who held him, and there was no telling what
might get him killed. Joe shivered from more than just the cold and damp.
*********
It
was a relief to have his hands free, Joe thought as they rode into Mormon
Flats. Henry wasn’t taking any chances, and hadn’t freed him until they were
right at the edge of town. The man’s self-confidence was staggering, and Joe
hoped it would be his downfall, but things seldom worked out that neatly in
real life, he had discovered.
He
was still hoping to make a break for freedom, but Joe wasn’t too sanguine about
his chances. Henry rode close by his side, and although there wasn’t a gun in
sight, Joe knew how quickly the man could draw. All Joe could do was hope that
Sheriff Kincaid was around as they arrived, but there was no sign of the
lawman.
Dismounting
outside the bank, Joe felt Henry’s gun digging into his ribs. He walked
carefully into the bank, and as soon as the door was closed, Henry grabbed
Joe’s left wrist, and twisted his arm up behind his back. Joe couldn’t keep
back a wince. His muscles were stiff and sore after 24 hours tied in one
position.
“Mr
Cartwright?” said the clerk, in surprise.
“Glad
you recognised him,” Henry drawled, pointing the gun at the clerk. ”’Cos if you don’t empty the safe into this bag, I’m going to
kill your friend here.” To give emphasis to his words, Henry twisted Joe’s arm
a little harder, and once more, Joe couldn’t bite back a wince of pain.
The
stunned clerk did as he was told, shooting anxious little glances at Joe
throughout. Joe felt sick. He hated that this man seemed to have the drop on
all the lawmen, and now had his unwilling help. He wanted to protest, and tell
the clerk not to do it, but he didn’t want to die, nor did he want the clerk to
get shot. He flexed his arm slightly, testing out the grip on it, and was
rewarded with yet another vicious twist which made a burning pain race through
his shoulder.
“Don’t
even think it,” Henry warned, and Joe subsided. He knew that Henry was quite
capable of breaking his arm.
The
clerk finally filled the bag, and Henry began to back towards the door. He
still had his gun appointed at the clerk, and as they reached the door, Joe
suddenly knew that he was going to shoot the clerk. As the thought crossed his
mind, Henry cocked his gun, and Joe threw his weight against the outlaw. The
shot went wide.
“Damn
you, Cartwright!” Henry cursed, and wrenched Joe’s arm. The pain was appalling.
He yanked his captive out of the door, and looked round. People were appearing
from round about, drawn by the shot, and Henry forced Joe onto his horse, and
they rode off at a gallop. Several shots were fired, and Joe recognised Sheriff
Kincaid’s voice.
The
pain from his abused arm came in waves, and Joe swayed in the saddle. Instantly
a hand reached out and grabbed him, preventing him from falling to the road.
Joe groaned. It had crossed his mind to take his chances among the flying
hooves of the horses, but Henry’s men were alert to his every move.
It
didn’t take them long to shake their lone pursuer.
**************
The
knock on the ranch house door was followed immediately by the door opening, and
Roy Coffee strode in, unasked. Ben, who had risen to answer the knock, looked
surprised. “Hello,
“Ben,”
“Joe?”
Ben said, blankly. “Why was Joe with them?” His heart rose to his mouth.
“Henry
is using him as a hostage, and threatened to kill him if the clerk didn’t hand
over the money.”
“Is
Joe all right?” Ben asked, harshly.
“The
clerk said he had a bruised gash down one cheek, and Henry had his arm twisted
up his back, and Joe seemed to be in some discomfort from it.”
Rising,
Ben began to pace. “So that’s his plan. Use Joe to get the money by threatening
him.”
“There’s
more,”
“What?”
“We
found Pete Scott’s body,”
“Where?”
Adam demanded.
“On
the outskirts of town,” answered the sheriff. “He’d been shot. There weren’t
any tracks that we could follow.” Drawing in a deep breath,
“You
think it was Henry’s gun?” Adam asked.
“It
could be, Adam,”
Adam
turned away. Hoss simply stood where he was, looking at
And
Joe was his captive.
**************
The
beating that Joe had just received hadn’t been as severe as he had feared, but
it had been plenty bad enough. Lying face down, Joe groaned as his arms were
wrenched behind his back and tied there. The rope looped round his ankles, and
then he was left alone.
It
was too much effort to try to roll over and sit up. Joe’s ribs ached, and he
suspected his left wrist was sprained. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth,
and he could feel the bruises stiffening all over his body. Joe had indeed
learned the lesson Henry intended him too. It didn’t pay to cross Luke Henry.
All the same, Joe took what comfort he could from knowing that he had stopped
the clerk from being killed needlessly.
The
cold and damp seeped into Joe’s clothes and he shivered. He hadn’t been really
warm since the rain began the previous day. He didn’t care. Joe knew what was
in store for him from now on. He was to be used to help rob banks until his
usefulness ran out, and then he would be killed. Any more attempts at
preventing Henry from killing clerks would no doubt end his own life. And Henry
would be alert to any moves he might make.
All
night long, Joe lay unmoving on his stomach. He must have slept, for he was
surprised to see the sky lightening, but he felt exhausted. He was running a
slight temperature as a result of the mild exposure he was suffering. One of
the gang came over and dragged him into a sitting position, and he was force
fed some beans. Then, the horses were prepared, and Joe realised, with a sinking
heart, that they were going to rob another bank that day.
“I’m
not takin’ any chances with you, Cartwright,” Henry
said, crossing to gaze down on his captive. Joe eyed him, but said nothing.
“I’m keepin’ your hands tied this time. Any funny
moves and you get it.” Crouching, he untied Joe’s hands, only to retie them in
front of him. Joe eyed his swollen discoloured wrist with detachment. The pain
was bad, but he didn’t feel any great outrage any more. His feet were untied,
and Henry yanked Joe to his feet. He took another rope from one of the gang,
and looped it round Joe’s neck.
That
woke Joe from his indifference. The rope round his neck was on a slipknot, and
one tug from Henry, and Joe would be choking. Slowly, Henry tightened the rope.
Joe stood frozen, his eyes fastened on Henry’s hand. The rope got tighter and
tighter, until Joe could hardly breathe. Then, Henry stopped tightening, and
Joe raised his eyes to look at the gang leader.
“Just
so we understand each other, Cartwright,” he said, softly. He nodded with
satisfaction as Joe failed to repress a shudder. “Let’s go.”
************
“The
way I see it, we’ve got a choice to make,”
“It
was Mormon Flats yesterday,” Adam said, peering at the map laid out on
“Here,”
“Yes,”
Ben replied. “If this is what you think is best,
“It
is,”
They
rode at a ground-covering lope, and reached Freshwater about
Hurrying
down the street,
Roy
and Ben dismounted and clustered round the sheriff. He looked angry, as well he
might. “Someone robbed the bank and shot the clerk,” he said. He shot a look at
Ben. “Your youngest son was with them, Mr Cartwright,” he said, accusingly and
Ben blanched.
“Not
willingly,” he protested.
“No,”
While
Ben digested this news,
“He
just died,” replied
“Luke
Henry and his gang,”
“And
Henry isn’t renown for tolerating mistakes, is he?”
Turning
away, Ben went back to Adam and Hoss, who had dismounted and were waiting for
him by his horse. They looked almost as grim as Ben, even without hearing the
news.
“Was
it Henry?” Adam asked, calmly. He didn’t know that his pinched nostrils gave
away his struggle to keep control of his emotions.
“Yes,”
Ben replied, and told them what
“Little
Joe’s a tough kid, Pa,” he offered. “He’ll be all right.”
Ben
patted Hoss’ shoulder, knowing that his brother’s absence was as hard on him as
it was on any of them. “Sure he is,” he agreed.
A
sudden clatter of hooves made them all look round.
“What
is it?”
“I
seen them, sheriff! I know which direction they was headed!” The deputy was
panting from his wild ride, but the big grin that split his face told them that
perhaps they now had a chance of finding this gang.
“Get
a fresh horse!”
Within
ten minutes, they were heading out after the gang.
*************
It
was another uncomfortable night for Joe. He had been unable to prevent Henry
shooting the bank clerk, and he felt absolutely wretched. He was still shivery
from exposure and the various hurts he had suffered seemed to take it in turns
to claim his attention. The worst pain was in his wrist. It was still swelling,
and the ropes were cutting into it painfully.
Despite
this, Joe was watching the activity in the camp with great interest. It seemed
to him that Henry was making preparations to pack up and leave. He felt his
breath shorten, as he wondered what Henry would do with him. He had little
doubt that he would be killed. Henry had no regard for life, he had learned.
With this thought in mind, Joe barely slept, although he did doze on and off.
When
daylight came, he was even more convinced that Henry was preparing to leave. He
wasn’t offered food of any kind, and he felt a twinge of fear as the outlaw
walked across to where he sat.
“I
been thinking, Cartwright,” Henry said, looming over his prisoner. “That’s a
nice piece of horse flesh you got there. What would a mount like that cost me?”
“He’s
not for sale,” Joe rasped. He didn’t have the affection for Dusk that he had
for Cochise, but Dusk had behaved beyond Joe’s
expectations over the last few days, and he hated the thought of Henry riding
him. It hadn’t escaped Joe’s notice that Henry was a heavy-handed rider.
“Now,
that ain’t very neighbourly,” Henry chided. “I’m
offering you a fair price. $100?”
“Not
for a million dollars!” Joe grated. “He’s not for sale.”
Leaning
over Joe, Henry no longer looked jovial. “You are asking to be killed,
Cartwright! I’m offering you a fair price for that horse. I could just take
him, you know.”
“$100
of stolen money?” Joe sneered. “Sure, I’m going to take that!”
As
Henry drew back his fist to strike Joe, there was a shout from the lookout.
“Men coming!”
Instantly,
the men dived for rifles and bullets. Joe’s heart leaped as hope bloomed. It
must be a posse! He tried to sit up a bit straighter, craning his neck to try
and see.
Without
missing a beat, Henry pulled his knife and reached down to cut the rope binding
Joe’s feet. He yanked the bandanna from round his neck, and forced it into
Joe’s mouth, and hauled him to his feet. “Come on,” he snarled, and pushed Joe
in front of him, further into the canyon.
Stumbling
on loose rocks, Joe wondered where on earth they were going. Any thoughts of
baulking were effectively stopped by the knife pricking through his jacket.
Every few steps, Henry gave Joe a vicious shove in the back, and it was all the
youngest Cartwright could do to keep his feet.
Behind
them, shots were being exchanged, and Joe could hear shouting, although he
couldn’t make out the words, for his breath was panting in his ears, as he
struggled to get in enough oxygen. He knew that he wouldn’t have the stamina
for a prolonged chase on foot, and fear curled in his belly.
“Up
here,” Henry grated, and put his knife away. Grabbing Joe’s arm, he took the
lead, and drew his gun. He half pulled Joe up a steep track. Once or twice, he
fired back into the canyon, and a couple of bullets bit into the rock wall
beside them.
“Hold
it!” a voice called, and Henry swung Joe round in front of him. Through the
sweat dripping into his eyes, Joe saw several familiar figures in the canyon
below.
“Don’t
come any closer!” Henry shouted. “Or I’ll kill Cartwright!”
“Its
over, Henry!” Roy Coffee shouted. “Let the boy go, and it’ll go easier on you.”
“Its
not over!” Henry yelled. He fired into the group below him, and they scattered.
Henry dragged Joe with him up the track. Joe tried everything he could to slow
Henry down, but the man was stronger, and Joe was forced up the track, away
from his rescuers.
“Stop!”
came his father’s voice, and Joe saw Ben starting up the track. His heart
contracted painfully, for Ben was an easy target for Henry. He deliberately
stumbled and went down on one knee, hoping to spoil the outlaw’s aim, but it
was no good. Joe saw Ben jerk as the bullet struck him, and then he was dragged
round a rocky outcropping, and Ben was lost from sight.
Hot
tears burned Joe’s eyes as he was forced into a run. He vowed that he would
find a way to bring this man to justice.
************
“Pa!”
Adam cried, as he scrambled up the slope to where his father lay. Hoss was
right on his heels, with
To
his immense relief, Adam saw Ben was trying to sit up, and as he gently
assisted him, he saw that Ben’s injury wasn’t life threatening. Ben had been
hit in the arm, and it was bleeding heavily. “I’m all right,” Ben said,
unsteadily.
Ignoring
that, Adam slit his father’s shirtsleeve, and examined the wound. “The bullet’s
still in there,” he said. “You need to get to the doctor,
“I’m
all right,” Ben objected. Adam briefly wondered if he knew how like Joe he
sounded, saying that. “We’ve got to get after Joe.”
“We
will,” Adam said, sternly. “But you’re not fit to go on. Pa, if you don’t get
that arm tended to soon, infection will set in, and what good will it do Joe if
you’re ill?”
“Adam’s
right, Ben,”
“Come
on, Pa,” Hoss said, reaching out to help him to his feet. “I’ll go back with
you, an’ Roy an’ Adam will go after Joe.”
“Hoss
is right,” Adam said, before Ben could say anything. “We’ll get Joe back, don’t
worry.”
“All
right,” Ben capitulated. “But I’ll still worry, if you don’t mind. It’s my
right as a father. Be careful, Adam.”
“I
will, Pa,” Adam assured him. “I’ll bring Joe back.”
They
helped Ben back to his horse, and Adam, Roy and Harvey took guns, bullets and
canteens with them, and headed back to the track. The rest of the posse, with
Ben and Hoss, headed back to
*******************
Stumbling
once more, Joe fell to one knee, and wondered if he would be able to get up
again. The abuse of the last few days had taken their toll on his stamina, and
Joe was near the end of his endurance. He knew he would have to rest, and he
guessed that Henry would shoot him if he was incapable of going on.
“Come
on, Cartwright,” Henry snarled, hooking his hand under Joe’s left arm, and
tugging. Pain rocketed up Joe’s arm, and he groaned into the greasy bandanna
that was still tied around his mouth. “We ain’t ready
to stop yet!”
Back
on his feet, Joe drew in several deep breaths, hoping that more oxygen would
give him the energy to go on. Henry was looking back over his shoulder, and Joe
wondered if there was anyone following them. A great hatred for this man
suddenly burned through Joe’s soul, and he decided that this was as good a
place as any for the showdown he intended.
Summoning
the last of his energy, Joe threw himself at Henry, his head thumping the
outlaw firmly in the stomach, and knocking him over. Joe tumbled his full
length on top of his captor, but although Henry had been caught off guard, he
didn’t appear too fazed by the attack. He threw Joe off with very little
effort, and Joe tumbled over the rough ground.
Lying
on his side, Joe gasped for breath as he watched the outlaw approaching him. He
tensed his muscles, and as Henry came within range, he swung his legs round in
a vicious kick, and had the fleeting satisfaction of seeing Henry crash to the
ground once more.
But
it was very fleeting satisfaction. Henry didn’t bother trying to regain his
feet, he simply scrambled over to Joe and grabbed his jacket front, preparing
to beat the living daylights out of him. Joe tried to prepare himself for what
was to come, and it took a second for him to realise that Henry wasn’t hitting
him.
A
shot whistled over their heads, and Henry forgot about pulping Joe, and dragged
him over to cover instead. Joe fought him all the way, but all he managed was
to slow Henry slightly. Ducking down behind an outcropping, Henry gave Joe a
vicious kick in the side as he flung him to the ground.
“Give
it up, Henry!” shouted a voice that Joe didn’t know.
“No
way!” Henry returned. “Back off, or Cartwright gets it!”
“You’re
not going to kill him,” came Roy Coffee’s voice. “It’ll go easier for you if
you give him up.”
In
response, Henry fired at them. He ducked as several shots came whistling back
at him. Giving Joe another kick to keep him down, Henry fired once more. The gunfight
went on, with Henry repeatedly kicking Joe to prevent a repeat of the earlier
attack. Joe did his best to avoid the kicks, but he was in no position to move
very far.
“Henry,
give up!”
“I
got one bullet left,” Henry shouted. “And it’s for the kid here!”
“Henry!”
Joe
tried to back away, but he seemed to be frozen in place. He could hear his
breath coming in ragged gasps, and closed his eyes, so he didn’t have to see
the killing madness in the eyes of the man who was about to claim his life.
“Hold
it!” said a familiar voice from behind Joe.
Snapping
open his eyes, Joe saw Henry glance up and change his stance to fire at Adam
standing above him. Joe wanted to scream a warning to his brother, but there
was a shot, and Henry fell to his knees, the gun tumbling from nerveless
fingers. For an instant, their gazes locked, then Henry fell to the ground.
After a second, Adam jumped down beside Joe,
and gently pulled the gag from his mouth. “Joe! Thank goodness.” He dragged his
brother into a rough embrace.
Roy
Coffee and another sheriff Joe didn’t recognise appeared, and Joe realised that
it was all over, and relaxed. He began to shake uncontrollably, and Adam
cradled his brother tightly in his arms until the trembling stopped. “Easy,
Joe, easy,” he murmured. “Its over. You’re safe.”
“Joe,
you’re a sight for sore eyes,”
Leaning
against Adam, Joe tried to smile. “So are you,” he croaked, and
Still
supporting Joe, Adam cut away the rope binding his wrists, and Joe groaned as
he brought his arms forward. The muscles across his shoulders ached, and he
instinctively cradled his injured wrist. At that moment, he wanted nothing more
than to lean on Adam’s chest and sleep.
“How’s
Pa?” he croaked, through the desert that passed for his mouth. He couldn’t
remember the last time he’d had a drink.
“He’ll
be fine, Joe,” Adam assured him, gesturing to
Closing
his eyes wearily, Joe snorted slightly. “What doesn’t?” he countered.
“Can
you walk?” Adam asked. He looked at the graze down’s Joe’s cheek, which was at
its maximum discolouration, and the other bruises on his face. Carefully, he
probed Joe’s ribs, and got several sharp winces in response. There didn’t
appear to be any broken bones, although he wasn’t too sure about Joe’s wrist.
The rope burns on Joe’s wrists gave mute testimony to his attempts to escape.
“I
can walk,” Joe said, in a voice that betrayed his exhaustion all too clearly.
Seeing
that Roy and Harvey were almost ready to set out with Henry, who was still
alive, and looked likely to stay that way, Adam gave Joe some more water, then
helped the younger man to his feet. For a moment, Joe swayed, but Adam kept his
grip on his arm until Joe was steady on his feet. He nodded to
***********
By
the time they got back to the canyon, it was late afternoon. Darkness would
soon be falling. Joe was all but out on his feet, keeping going simply because
Adam was there to support him. For Joe’s sake, Adam would have preferred to
spend the night at the camp, but Roy and Harvey were keen to get back to
“You’ve
got eyes, Adam,”
“I
guess you’re right,” Adam admitted reluctantly. He took his bedroll from his
saddle and wrapped the blanket round Joe, who was shivering. “I’m just going to
saddle Dusk for you, Joe,” he said. “We’re going to go back to town tonight.”
“All
right,” Joe agreed, and his eyes drooped closed.
He
roused easily enough when they were ready to set out on horseback. “How’d you
get here so quickly this morning?” Joe asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
He wasn’t very successful. He still had the blanket tightly round his
shoulders. Henry’s malevolent glare burned an itchy spot between his shoulder
blades.
“We
camped out last night,” Adam explained. “And we don’t want to have to do that
again tonight. One night sleeping on the ground is enough for me.”
“You’re
getting old, big brother,” Joe joked. Adam smiled. He was relieved that Joe
felt like joking.
They
rode slowly on. Adam was never more than a few feet from Joe’s side. He had
seen Joe fall asleep in the saddle before, and wouldn’t be surprised if it
happened again. The ground was rough and uneven, and Adam feared that Dusk
would trip and throw Joe. However, they reached the road without either thing
happening.
The
pace picked up, and Joe seemed more alert. However, they were all relaxing
slightly and Henry had been waiting for just that moment. He suddenly spurred
his horse and rode straight at Adam.
Sport
shied, and Adam found himself fighting the chestnut for control.
Of
them all, Joe was the one who reacted fastest. He put his heel to Dusk’s side,
and the horse, novice or not, responded far more calmly than its compatriots,
and galloped after Henry. Dusk was by far the better-bred mount, and it soon
closed the distance between the horses.
Glancing
over his shoulder, Henry was surprised to see Joe chasing him. He veered his
horse from the road, hoping that in the uncertain footing the young gelding
would stumble, but Dusk was sure footed. Straining every sinew, Joe was
determined hat Henry wasn’t going to get away. He guided his young mount with a
sure, steady hand, and the horse trusted him implicitly.
As
Joe drew close enough to grab the outlaw’s rein, Henry swerved his horse again.
Joe gathered himself, and sprang from the saddle, and hit Henry around the
waist, knocking them both to the ground. They landed in a tangled heap, and
Joe’s injured wrist was trapped beneath the outlaw’s weight. He cried out in
pain, and Henry, although winded, grinned.
Keeping
his advantage, he rolled on Joe’s arm, and began to pummel the younger man,
paying him for the earlier fight, and the fact he’d been captured. Joe was in
far too much pain to do more than defend himself, and he didn’t make a very
good job of that. Henry’s fists broke through his defence every time.
But
Joe wasn’t alone. Adam had quelled Sport’s panic, and raced after his brother,
leaving the two sheriffs to sort themselves out. He flung himself from the
saddle and dived to Joe’s defence. He grabbed Henry and threw two punches at
the outlaw’s face. Luckily for Henry, at that point,
Kneeling
by Joe, Adam could see that he had a split lip, and his nose was bleeding.
“Joe?” he said, for his brother’s eyes were closed, and Adam wasn’t sure if he
had been knocked out or not.
“Ngm?” Joe murmured. He opened his eyes. “What?” he asked,
sounding slightly drunk. “You all right?”
“I’m
fine,” Adam laughed. “Can you stand?”
With
an audible sigh, Joe allowed Adam to get him upright once more. His wrist was
sending stabs of pain along his arm, and he cradled it protectively against his
chest as Adam helped him over to Dusk once more. “Adam, I wanna
go home,” he said, plaintively, once he was settled in the saddle again.
“Soon,”
Adam soothed. “We’ve got to collect Pa from the doc’s first.”
“All
right,” Joe capitulated, and they rode on, but now, Roy and Harvey were taking
no chances with Henry.
********************
“Where
are they?” Ben fretted. He shifted his shoulders uneasily in the big chair he
was resting in in the lobby of the hotel. Hoss would
have preferred if Ben had gone to lie down, but his father was having none of
it, and Hoss had given in. They had expected Adam and
“They’ll
be here, Pa,” Hoss said, although his assurances were beginning to sound very
hollow, even to his own ears.
“I
should’ve stayed,” Ben said, rising to pace the length of the lobby and back.
“Aw,
Pa,” Hoss protested. “You know you had ta get back to
the doc’s. Adam an’ Roy ain’t gonna
let anythin’ happen to Little Joe.”
Over
by the door once more, Ben froze, peering into the darkness. “Its them, they’re
here!” he exclaimed, and hurried outside, Hoss at his heels.
The
procession of 5 mounted men rode slowly down the street, and Ben rushed out to
greet them. They pulled up outside the doctor’s office, and Ben hurried to
catch up. “Adam!” He called, and his oldest son tipped a wave to him before
going over to help Joe dismount. Ben arrived just in time to hear his youngest
son catch his breath as his feet hit the ground. “Joe! Are you all right?” He
hovered over his son, unsure if it was safe to touch him anywhere.
“Shouldn’t
I ask you that?” Joe joked, but his voice sounded weak to Ben. “I’m all right,
“Come
on, hero,” Adam said, supporting Joe. Hoss moved up to help.
“I’m
glad to see ya, Shortshanks,”
he mumbled, almost on the verge of tears with relief.
“Me,
too,” Joe said, simply, and allowed his brothers to help him into the doctor’s
office. Now that his journey was finally over, Joe’s body was rebelling, and
his legs would barely support his weight. He collapsed onto a seat, and
groaned.
Sitting
by Joe, Ben wasn’t paying any heed to anything else happening in the office. He
was barely aware of Henry’s presence, until Joe stiffened suddenly. Ben looked
up, following his son’s gaze, and saw the outlaw standing there, glaring at
Joe. Instinctively, he put his arm across Joe to protect him.
“This
ain’t over, sonny,” Henry growled. “No, this ain’t over.”
“Get
in there,”
“Its
all right, Joe,” Ben said, softly, stroking his son’s head. “We’re here now. He
won’t get you.
“But
its not over,” Joe said, almost inaudibly. “And it won’t be over until he’s
dead.” Joe shut his eyes and shuddered. Ben gestured to Hoss to bring across
another blanket, and tucked it around Joe’s legs. Joe leant his head against
Ben’s shoulder. He sighed. “When can I go home?” he asked.
“Soon,”
Ben said, soothingly, stroking Joe’s head. His worried gaze met Adam’s across
the room. Unbidden, they both glanced at the door which Henry was behind.
**********
Sunlight
entered the room and spilled across the sleeping man’s face. He moved slightly
and brushed a hand across his face, but the disturbance didn’t go away, and a
few minutes later, he blearily opened his eyes. The room wasn’t immediately
familiar, and Joe looked round for several seconds before remembering that they
had stayed the night at the hotel last night, rather than ride home. From the
looks of the light outside, Joe had slept well into the morning.
He
snuggled down under the blankets again, but the desire to sleep was gone. He
sighed, and pushed to a sitting position, noticing that he still ached in
several places. Throwing back the covers, Joe looked down at his naked body,
and saw the bruises that decorated almost every inch of flesh. Small wonder he
hurt, then, he thought wryly. He raised the bandage and splint on his left wrist,
and wondered if Paul was going to insist on plastering it when the swelling
went down. It seemed there was a breakage in the wrist, but with the amount of
swelling there was, Paul was reluctant to put on a cast.
As
Joe looked across the room at his filthy clothes, and tried to make up his mind
to put them on, the door opened and his family came in. Ben was carrying a
brown paper package. He smiled as he saw that Joe was awake. “Well, it’s about
time you woke up, young man. I was beginning to think you were turning into Rip
Van Winkle!”
Laughing,
Joe asked, “What time is it?”
“Almost
10.30,” Adam responded. “We got tired of watching you sleep, so we went
shopping.”
“Bought
you some clean duds,” Hoss said. “Them ones you had on was so dirty, we
reckoned even you wouldn’t want to wear ‘em!”
“You’ve
got that right, brother,” Joe agreed, fervently.
Unwrapping
the package, Ben spread the new clothes out, and opened all the buttons for
Joe. “We’ll leave you to get dressed, and meet you in the dining room,” he
said. “All right? Can you manage?”
“I
might be a while, but I can mange, thanks, pa,” Joe said. The family left, and
Joe slowly got himself out of bed and began to dress.
***************
Over
breakfast, Joe learned that
“Its
over, Joe,” he said. “Henry can’t get you now.”
“I
hope you’re right, Pa,” Joe said, looking up. “But I’ve been with that man for
the last few days, and I know what he’s like. He’s merciless,
Troubled,
but unable to refute what Joe was saying, Ben kept silent. Neither Adam nor
Hoss had anything to say either. After a moment, Joe resumed eating, but it was
clear his appetite was gone. He ate a few more bites, downed the end of his
coffee and pushed his chair back. “Let’s get it over with,” he said, softly.
The
walk down the street allowed Joe to loosen a few stiff muscles and he was
feeling a little more like himself when he entered the sheriff’s office.
“
As
Joe finished, laughter echoed through from the cells. Joe blanched, and Ben had
thought he was pretty pale to start off with. “Got to you, didn’t I,
Cartwright?” Henry shouted. “Its not over, boy! Just remember that!”
“Shut
up, Henry!”
“We’ll
be here,” Joe said, grimly, and rose from the desk. His knees shook, but Joe
walked out of the office without the family realising how he felt. Outside, Joe
leaned up against the wall and drew in several deep breaths.
The
family clustered around Joe to shield him from casual observers and allow him
to regain his equilibrium. “All right, son?” Ben asked, worriedly.
“I’m
all right, Pa,” Joe said, raising a pale, sweaty face to his father. “I just
felt a bit sick. But I’m okay, honest.”
“Let’s
go to see Paul then we can go home,” Ben said.
“That
sounds good to me,” Joe said, valiantly. He straightened up determinedly and walked
with his family out into the street, heading towards the doctor’s office. From
the window of the cell, he could feel Henry’s gaze on him. He didn’t look back.
******************
It
was so good to be home. Joe slid from Dusk’s back and looked around
appreciatively. Joe had always deeply loved the Ponderosa, but he had a fresh
appreciation for it now. “I’ll take yer horse, Shortshanks,” Hoss offered, and Joe accepted gratefully.
The cast that Paul Martin had put on his wrist was awkward, and the arm was now
in a sling.
“How
does it feel to be home?” Ben asked, quietly, coming to walk with Joe to the
house.
“It
feels good,” Joe replied. He had regained some of his usual colour on the ride home,
and although he looked tired, he looked more relaxed, too. “It seems along time
since I left.”
Going
into the house, Hop Sing came form the kitchen to greet him, chattering away in
his native language. Joe understood some of it, and smiled. “I’m pleased to be
back, too,” he said, and sat down wearily on the settee. Within a minute, Hop
Sing had brought coffee and cookies for them all.
“All
you have to do for the next few days is relax, Joe,” Ben said, sipping his
coffee.
“Sounds
good to me,” Joe responded. He ate a cookie, and smiled as Hoss moved in on the
plate. “Hold on there, big brother,” he said, reaching for another. “These were
made for me.”
“You
ain’t so mean that you won’t share your cookies, are ya, Joe?” Hoss complained. “I done share mine with you
every birthday!”
“Share?”
Joe kidded. “You let me have one! Is that sharing?”
“It
is for Hoss,” Adam joined in, grabbing two cookies before Hoss had even got
one. “He could eat the whole plate, and never notice.”
Smiling,
Ben sat back in his chair and watched his sons tease one another. He thought
that this was probably the best possible thing for Joe; a return to the routine
of life, and the love of his family. The trial would unpleasant, and it was as
well if Joe didn’t think about it too much. Ben moved his injured arm slightly
and thought that they had really come out of the situation remarkably well. He
and Joe had been hurt, but none of the injuries was life threatening. It could
have Ben so much worse.
Reaching
over, he took another cookie, triggering another spate of protests from Hoss.
**************
The
morning of the trial saw Joe at the breakfast table at first calling, pale, but
in control. He had become used to the plaster cast over the last few days, and
apart from still wearing the sling, was doing many day-to-day chores unaided,
including dressing himself. Today, however, Adam was elected to knot Joe’s tie,
for Ben was having enough problems knotting his own.
The
horses were saddled and waiting for them, and they mounted up and rode off to
town. The journey was essentially silent. Several times, Ben or Adam or Hoss
tried to start a conversation, and each attempt was met with a monosyllabic
grunt by Joe. Finally, they decided to leave him alone with his thoughts.
The
thoughts were fairly harrowing. Joe had wakened during the night from a
nightmare, and found himself stifling his screams in the covers. He lay awake
for the rest of the night, remembering those dreadful days as Henry’s prisoner.
He was convinced that Henry would somehow make him pay for testifying. He
didn’t know how, but a cold dread lay over his heart.
The
courtroom was packed. Joe was more than conscious of the stares directed at
him. He knew he didn’t look anything like his best. The graze on his cheek was
almost healed, but he hadn’t been able to shave since he was kidnapped, and for
all that his brothers teased him that he would never grow a beard, he felt
shaggy and untidy. His face was still bruised and his arm was in a sling. His
jacket wouldn’t fit over the cast, and so was hung over his shoulder. It didn’t
help Joe’s confidence.
Henry
was brought from the jail, and Joe felt a shudder run down his spine as Henry
turned his gaze on him. That look took him right back to the canyon, with his hands
and feet tied, feeling helpless, knowing his life depended on this man’s whim.
It wasn’t an easy feeling to shake.
It
didn’t take long. The case was laid before the court, and the witnesses were
called. Joe was last, and his testimony was the longest of them all. He
repeated his story for them as calmly as he could, but he could feel the sweat
beading on his forehead, and fought to keep from wiping his sweaty palm on his
pants leg. He could feel the pity radiating from the people watching, and heard
the murmurs as he catalogued it all again. Joe hated it. But he kept talking,
and finally it was over. He made an effort to walk calmly back to his seat by
his father, and to sit up straight, when all he wanted was to slump down and
close his eyes. Henry’s eyes were on him all the time.
The
verdict wasn’t a surprise. The defendant was found guilty on all counts and
sentenced to hang by the neck until dead. Joe swallowed dryly as the sentence
was pronounced. He wouldn’t rest easy until it was all over, and Henry was
dead. Henry was to die at sunset that very day.
The
courtroom emptied quickly, but Joe still sat in his seat. Now that Henry was
gone, he slumped as he had wanted to earlier, and heard his father’s concerned
voice asking if he was all right. Briefly, Joe nodded, but he couldn’t have
spoken if his life depended on it. The world grew distant, and for a time, Joe
didn’t know where he was.
A
pungent spirit was forced into his mouth, and Joe choked on it. He opened his
eyes, and saw Ben bending over him, a glass of brandy in his hand. Adam was
leaning in close, and Joe belatedly realised that his head was cradled on Hoss’
lap. “What happened?” he asked, trying to sit up.
“You
fainted,” Ben answered, helping him sit up a bit. Hoss moved to support him
again while Joe drank the last of the brandy.
“I
fainted?” Joe repeated. He sounded stunned.
“Its
just the strain,” Ben assured him. “We’re going over to the hotel, and you are
going to eat some lunch then lie down for a while before we go back to the ranch.
Is that clear?”
“Yes,
sir,” Joe said, meekly. He recognised an immovable object when he met one. He
was helped to his feet, and was amazed when his head swam slightly. A lie down
sounded good at that moment.
***************
It
was late in the afternoon when Joe woke. He had eaten more at lunch than anyone
expected, and then he lay down obediently. After his almost sleepless night,
and the strain of the morning, Joe fell asleep almost at once. The family left
him undisturbed. They had twice heard of the abuse Joe had suffered, and it
disturbed them all.
It
hardly seemed worth waiting supper till they got home, so they ate at the hotel
again. The town was buzzing, and Ben was anxious to get home. If he hadn’t been
so concerned about Joe’s fainting, he would have waited for supper, but he felt
his youngest had to eat before facing the ride home.
But
the hotel was busy and when they left, they discovered that the hanging was
imminent. The streets were choked with people, and trying to get to the livery
was impossible. “I vote we go back to the hotel,” Adam said, but they were
already into the crowd and being carried along.
It
seemed that everyone assumed that the Cartwrights
wanted a front row view of the hanging. No matter how they resisted, they were
shoved to the front, and soon found there was no one between them and the
gallows. Glancing around, Ben realised that there was no avenue of easy retreat
to be found. He looked at Joe, and saw the paleness of the young mans’ face.
“Joe,” he started, but Joe wasn’t listening.
The
only way to get away form this, in Joe’s mind, was to walk past the gallows and
head off towards the jail. So, with the single mindedness for which he was well
known, he did just that. He walked steadily towards the only open space to be
seen, and Henry emerged from the jail just at that very moment.
“Joe!”
Ben shouted, and made a move forward.
Henry’s
eye had fallen on Joe and he shrugged off Roy Coffee as though he wasn’t there.
With unexpected speed, he threw himself off the boardwalk and launched himself
at Joe. Joe was caught unawares, and went crashing to the ground.
A
collective gasp was ripped from the throats of the citizens of
They
were fighting manically. Joe threw punches with his right hand, but he was more
hampered by the cast and sling than Henry was by the handcuffs he wore. Joe was
getting the worst of it by far. Then the impossible happened. From inside his
shirt, Henry pulled a knife!
He
had no compunction; no hesitation. He plunged the knife into Joe’s abdomen, and
jumped to his feet. At his feet, Joe lay still, his eyes glazing as blood
pumped out of his body. “I won, Cartwright!” Henry shouted. “I won!”
But
Henry was wrong.
*****************
“If
Joe hadn’t had that belt on, he would have died,” Paul said. “But as it is,
he’ll be fine in a while. There was plenty blood, but nothing vital was
damaged, and the knife didn’t go in that far. Give him 6 weeks or so, and he
probably won’t know that anything ever happened.” As soon as the words were out
of his mouth, Paul wished he hadn’t said that. Joe would never forget this!
“When
can we take him home?” Ben asked.
“In
a day or two,” Paul answered. “Once he’s made good some of the blood loss. He’s
awake, you can see him.”
“Thanks,
Paul,” Ben said, and went into the inner room where Joe lay on the bed, as
white as the sheets covering him. Ben sat beside him and tenderly stroked his
hair. Joe smiled up weakly.
“Henry?”
he asked, and Ben smiled reassuringly.
“He’s
dead, Joe,” he answered. “It is over, son, and he didn’t win. You did.”
For
a moment, tears hovered on the youth’s lashes, but they didn’t fall. “Where did
the knife come from?” Joe wanted to know.
“
“I
can hardly believe its over,” Joe said. “Henry seemed to be invincible,
“Well,
he is,” Ben said. “And a lot of people are going to rest easier in their beds,
knowing that he’d gone. And I don’t mean just you!”
Joe
sighed. “When can I go home?” he asked, after a time. “I seem to have been away
a lot just lately.”
“Soon,
Joe, soon,” Ben assured him.
He
sat there for along time after Joe had fallen asleep, giving thanks to the
Almighty for the deliverance of his son. He was fairly sure that, although Joe
would never forget his experience, he had come to terms with it, and would be
able to put it behind him, given time. His family circle was still unbroken.
The
door opened and Adam and Hoss came in quietly. They looked down at Joe, and Ben
reached to include them in his embrace. He knew that both his older sons would
help their younger sibling with any problems that might arise from this, and he
was more than thankful for the love that they all shared. He smiled as a
thought crossed his mind. Joe had been Henry’s unwilling accomplice, but the
same couldn’t be said of the family. They were totally willing accomplices in
Joe’s healing process.
“Thank
you,” he whispered.
The end