Whatever It Takes
By:
Rona Y.
The
man’s loud voice carried clearly over the noise and hubbub in the saloon. His
lips tightening in anger, the young man at the bar straightened. Immediately, a
hand clamped onto his wrist. “Don’t,” advised his oldest brother.
“What
do you mean, don’t?” Joe demanded, tugging on his captive limb. “You heard what
he just said about Pa! It ain’t true, and I’m not just gonna stand here and let
him say it.”
“Yes
you are,” Adam responded. “Pa said there was to be no trouble, and that’s what
he meant.” He didn’t relinquish his grip on Joe’s arm.
“Let
go of me, Adam,” Joe said, furiously.
Moving
in on Joe’s other side, his middle brother, Hoss, put his hand on Joe’s
shoulder. “You ain’t gonna do nothin’, Shortshanks,” he said. “Adam’s right.
He’s just lookin’ fer trouble, an’ Pa said we wasn’t to cause any trouble. So
just simmer down an’ drink yer beer.”
Glaring
at his brothers, Joe struggled for a moment longer before bowing to the
inevitable. “All right,” he said, sulkily. “Let go. I won’t do anything.”
Looking
searchingly at Joe, Adam let go of his wrist. He was more convinced by his
brother’s posture than by his words. When Joe was angry, or upset, or sulking,
his head dropped, and that was how he was standing now. His head was down, and
the tension had gone from his body. Adam was no less angry than either Joe or
Hoss, but he knew perfectly well what would happen if Joe started a fight with
that particular man. At the end of it, Joe would end up in jail, and the whole town
would know about the dispute between Ben Cartwright of the Ponderosa ranch, and
Bill Collins, of Silver Hills Mine.
***************
“I’m
going home,” Joe said. He straightened up and tugged his hat down. “See you
later.”
“Pa
said to wait here,” Hoss protested.
“Which
would you rather?” Joe asked, sparks seeming to fly from his eyes. “That I went
home, or started a fight?” Hoss didn’t answer. Joe nodded. “I thought so,” he
remarked and strode out. More than one pair of eyes followed him out.
Sighing,
Adam drained his glass. Hoss eyed his older brother. “Pa said we shouldn’t go
about alone,” Hoss commented, uneasily. “An’ he told us to wait here.”
“Joe
can look after himself,” Adam said. “He’s mad plain through, so we’re better to
let him go and ride it off. Perhaps by the time we’re all back home, Joe will
be in a better mood.” He signalled the barman for another beer. “He was warned
what might happen.”
Gazing
gloomily into his beer, Hoss nodded. Ben had warned them all that there would
be talk in town, but that they weren’t to do anything to stir up trouble – and
that included starting a fight to protect his good name. Collins had started
this vendetta after Ben had refused to sell him the mining rights for the
Ponderosa, which abutted the Silver Hills mine, and then refused to supply the
timber needed to shore up the mind. It was after that, that the whispering
campaign against Ben had begun. It was reaching the stage that Ben was finding
it difficult to hire men, and some of the newer storekeepers in town were
demanding payment for every item, instead of allowing Ben credit, as other
stores did.
Knowing
Joe’s penchant for trouble, Ben had made the stricture about not going about
alone. He didn’t really think that anyone would attack his sons, but he was
sure someone would try and provoke them into causing trouble, and he thought
that if they were alone, it was much more likely than if they were together. It
was mostly aimed at Joe, but it wouldn’t be the first time Adam or Hoss had
gone off the deep end, either, trying to protect their father.
That
evening, Ben had a meeting with his lawyer and the sheriff, trying to establish
if there was anything he could do about the rumours that were spreading about
him. The boys had gone with him, none of them willing to let Ben go alone, and
none of them prepared to wait tamely behind at home. Ben had been uneasy,
knowing what could happen in a saloon, and so had laid down the law to them
before they left. Now Joe had gone off alone, and Hoss couldn’t shake the
uneasy feeling he had. He didn’t know if it was just because Ben would chew
them out, or if he suspected something might happen to Joe.
Turning
to lean against the bar, Hoss became aware of how many people in the saloon
were watching he and Adam. Pretending not to notice, Hoss continued to survey
the room. A number of men that he had counted as friends couldn’t meet his
gaze. Turning back, Hoss hunched over his glass. “”I don’t like this, Adam,” he
said, quietly. “There’s folks in here as I thought were friends of ours, an’
they ain’t even meetin’ my eyes. Collins has spread this story further than we
all thought. How can folks who know us believe it?”
“I
don’t know,” Adam replied, wishing he had another answer for Hoss. He glanced
briefly over his shoulder. “But if something’s said often enough, people start
to believe it. And Collins is a powerful man. He’s hired a lot of people since
he arrived here six months ago.” He took a sip of his beer, and realised that
he didn’t really want it. “Remember how it was with Tom Sladen? He came in and
began to build up his business, and before we knew it, he was holding the town
to ransom. Its looking like the same thing is happening with Bill Collins.”
“Yeah,”
Hoss said, sounding down, and Adam remember that it had been Hoss who had found
Joe lying in the road, shot through the shoulder. The memories associated with
that whole incident were unpleasant, even if things had been resolved in the
end.
There
was movement at the entrance, and Ben Cartwright came in. He saw the boys at
once, and frowned as he noted Joe’s absence. His face was already grim, and
Adam felt a pang through his gut. He dropped a coin on the bar, and he and Hoss
went over to join Ben. “Pa?” Adam said.
“Not
here,” Ben said. “Where’s Joe?” He glanced round again, as though expecting to
see his youngest son sitting at one of the tables.
“He
went home,” Adam replied. At the look on Ben’s face, he said, “There were
comments and Joe decided it would be better to go home than have a fight.” As
his father’s frown deepened, Adam said, “Joe can take care of himself, Pa.”
“Let’s
go then,” Ben said, although it was clear that he wasn’t happy with Joe’s
decision. He turned on his heel and left, with Adam and Hoss following. He
silently mounted his horse and turned towards home.
It
wasn’t until they were out of the city that Adam finally persuaded Ben to tell
them what had happened. “There’s been a new development,” Ben said, his tone
hard. “Promissory notes have been signed in some of the stores with the
initials BC. It was implied that those were my initials, and that’s why the
storekeepers weren’t happy. Bills have been run up, and Collins is denying that
they are his, and saying outright that they are mine.” Ben swallowed down his indignation,
and continued. “As it happens, I can prove that they aren’t mine, but it leaves
the storekeepers out of pocket, some of them for a large amount.”
“But
you think its Bill Collins,” Adam probed.
“Yes,
that’s what I think, and what Roy and Hiram think.” Roy was Roy Coffee, sheriff
of Virginia City, and Hiram was Hiram Wood, Ben’s lawyer. “But we can’t prove
it. I asked Hiram to write to the storekeepers to assure them that I can pay my
bills, as there is now a story going around that I am bankrupt, and can’t pay
for timber crews, which is why I’m not selling timber to Silver Hills.”
“Its
all so pointless,” commented Adam, angrily. “Does he really think that we’ll
give in and sell him that timber, when you’ve explained why you aren’t going
to?”
“Yes,
I really think he does think so,” Ben responded. “What scares me is what he’ll
do when he discovers I won’t change my mind.” Ben said no more, but Adam was
able to follow his thoughts with ease. What if someone went after his sons?
What then?
***************
It
was a relief to find Joe safely at home. Ben said nothing about him leaving
alone, for he could plainly see how Joe was feeling, and knew that a lecture,
however well intentioned, would result in an explosion of temper, and Ben was
too tired, and too angry, to deal with Joe’s tantrums. Ben knew only too well
that when two angry people clashed, things were said that weren’t meant, but
were never forgotten. Following Ben’s lead, neither Adam nor Hoss said anything
either.
It
was late, and they were all tired, but Ben wasn’t the only Cartwright who found
it difficult to sleep that night. Joe was so wound up that it was nearly dawn
before his eyes finally closed. Hoss had managed to drop off near midnight, and
Adam made it by 2 am. Ben fell asleep about 3. His dreams were populated by
dark shadows and a strong sense of foreboding. When he woke about 6, he felt as
though he had never been to sleep.
Over
breakfast, Ben once more insisted that the boys didn’t go around alone. After
the discussions the previous night, he knew that they would have to be
extremely wary, so as not to confirm any of the rumours, even accidentally. He
didn’t want them getting involved in any brawls, especially in the saloons, and
they were not to go into town alone for either mail or supplies. “Collins wants
to discredit us by our own actions,” he said, eyeing Joe especially. He knew
the trouble Joe’s hot temper could get him into. “So please, don’t do anything
that might play into his hands.”
Solemnly,
they all promised to be careful. They didn’t eat much that meal, and soon
excused themselves to get on with the day’s work. This was about the worst
crisis any of them could remember, and it knocked even Joe’s natural ebullience
for six. They were all silent as they went about that day’s work.
****************
In
the shack that passed for an office at Silver Hills mine, Bill Collins listened
intently as his right hand man, Jerome Weber, told him about the reactions of
the Cartwright sons in the saloon the previous night.
“That’s
our next move, then,” Collins said. “If we can get to Ben Cartwright through
his sons, then that’s what we’re going to do. Find someone and pay them well.
Enough to shut their mouths. Get them to do what’s necessary, and then kill
them. We can get the money back then.”
“How
far do you want us to go?” Weber asked.
Glancing
out of the grimy window at the entrance to the mine, Collins thought. “It would
be useful to have one here, where we can get our hands on him at any time,” he
said, finally. “And you could kill one. I’m sure Cartwright would get the
message then.”
“Right,
boss.” Weber turned away, then looked back over his shoulder. A wolfish grin
split his face. “Whatever it takes, huh, boss?”
“That’s
right,” Collins said, exchanging a grin with him. “Just like in California,
Jerome. Whatever it takes.” He watched his friend leave, remembering when they
had done something similar in California a few years before. Then, it had been
the man’s daughter he had attacked, and through that had gained the mining
rights for his almost played-out mine there. When it was almost exhausted, he
had sold up, and moved to Nevada, where there were fortunes in silver being
mined from the Comstock load. He wanted the rights to mine under the Ponderosa,
and he was going to get them, whatever it took.
“Whatever
it takes,” he repeated to himself and smiled slightly. He entertained visions
of Ben Cartwright’s face when he found one son dead and another missing. He
found the prospect rather pleasing.
****************
Crouching
above the road, Weber and his new accomplice, Jim Smith, saw two of the
Cartwrights riding towards them. Weber smiled. This would make things easier
for him, he reflected. Collins was growing impatient at his lack of progress in
killing and kidnapping. Almost a week had passed since the orders were given.
It had taken Weber three days to find Smith, and they had been watching the
road into town continuously since then. They knew that some of the Cartwrights
would go into town eventually, as they had to collect mail and supplies.
Finally, here were two of them, going into town, and on a wagon, no less.
Things were going his way, he reflected.
There
had been silence on the wagon so far, but Joe finally broke it. “Pa sure is
down,” Joe commented. “I hate to see him like this.”
“I
know,” Adam agreed. “I sure wish there was something we could do, too, but I
don’t know what.” He shook up the team slightly. He shot a mischievous glance
sideways at Joe. “What’s wrong, buddy? Tired of being good?” he joked.
Snorting,
Joe tried very hard not to laugh, but he couldn’t quite manage. “Haha,” he
said. “You’re so clever, did you know?”
“College
educated,” said Adam modestly. “I knew that.” He ducked to avoid the swing Joe
made at him.
The
bullet from Smith’s rifle hit Adam in the left chest, and knocked him back
against Joe, who clutched at Adam to prevent them both falling out of the
wagon. The reins dropped from Adam’s hands, and the horses, confused, shambled
to a stop. Joe had his hands full with the unconscious Adam, and hadn’t even
drawn his gun when Weber and Smith appeared at the side of the wagon.
“Get
down, kid,” Weber ordered, his voice muffled by the bandanna tied over his
face.
Hesitating,
not sure what to do about Adam, Joe was unprepared for Weber grabbing his arm
and hauling him bodily from the seat. Adam toppled over to bounce from the seat
to the running board of the wagon. “Adam!” Joe cried, and started to rise from
where he had landed on the ground, but was met with a vicious kick that floored
him again.
“Tie
him up,” Weber ordered, and Smith put down his rifle and uncoiled the rope that
hung on his shoulder.
Glancing
between the two, Joe had no idea who they were, or what they wanted, but he
could take a pretty good guess. In that split second, he made up his mind, and
leaped to his feet, bowling Smith over. He managed four steps before Weber
tackled him, and brought him crashing to the ground once more.
But
Joe wasn’t prepared to give in that easily. He jabbed his elbow into his
attacker’s face, and Weber’s grip loosened. Joe kicked him off, and scrambled
to his feet again. But Smith was there, too, and recovered from Joe’s initial
attack. He had retrieved his rifle, and as Joe regained his feet, smacked the
weapon hard between Joe’s shoulder blades. Joe went down and out.
Panting,
Weber regained his feet. “Tie him up, and make sure the knots are tight,” he
ordered Smith. “I want him blindfolded and gagged, too.” He looked down on the unconscious
youth with disgust. “You don’t have to be too gentle with him, either,” he
commented, as he retrieved his hat.
Smith
grinned as he knelt by Joe and began to bind the youth’s hands.
A
short time after, Weber rode off, leading a horse that had Joe slung over it.
Smith’s body lay a short distance from the Ponderosa wagon where Adam lay, his
life’s blood pumping slowly out of his body.
***************
It
was a desperately uncomfortable journey for Joe, both physically and mentally.
When he roused, he wondered for several minutes where he was, and when he
realised that he was blindfolded and gagged, he was furious. He struggled
fiercely against his bonds, but to no avail. He had a splitting headache, and
an unrelenting throb had centred between his shoulder blades where the rifle
had struck him. Finally admitting that he wasn’t going to get free in a hurry,
he slumped down, trying to concentrate on breathing, for every step the horse
took jolted the breath from his body.
But
ceasing to struggle physically gave him time to think about what had happened,
and he wondered if Adam were alive or dead. Joe hadn’t heard the shot that
struck Adam, and he doubted if Adam had either. But Joe had certainly seen the
blood spurting from Adam’s back and he could feel it sticky on his fingers.
Tears soaked into his blindfold as he thought about his injured brother. Would
Adam survive until help reached him, or would he die from his injuries? Not
knowing was torture for Joe.
Finally,
the horse jolted to a stop, and a voice spoke. “Two in one move, boss.” Joe
recognised it as the man who had pulled him from the wagon. “The other is
dead.” Joe’s heart contracted painfully.
“Good,”
replied another voice, close by Joe’s head. He flinched. “Which one is this?”
“The
youngest, I think,” said the first. “Does it matter?”
“Not
to me,” answered the second voice. “But I want to know what name to put in the
note to Cartwright. Get him out of sight.”
“Right,
boss,” replied the first, and the horse began to move again. Within a few
moments, Joe could tell they were in a barn. The horse stopped, and fingers
fumbled at the thongs holding Joe onto the saddle. He made an effort to kick at
the person, but missed completely. He paid for it, however, as he was dragged
from the horse to land with a crash on the ground.
While
he was still gasping for breath, he was dragged a few feet across the ground
and hauled into a sitting position, his back against something firm. Joe
guessed it was a timber supporting the roof as he felt a rope tied around his
chest. It was tightened brutally tight, and another loop was tied around his
stomach, which ached from his position on the horse.
A
hand ruffled his hair, and Joe ducked away from it. A second later, the fingers
tightened in his hair, pulling. Joe stifled a wince. “Behave, boy, and you’ll
be all right,” he was told. “You don’t behave, you get what your brother got.”
His head was given a shake. “That clear?”
Reluctantly,
Joe nodded. He was completely helpless, and no one knew where he was. As the
footsteps retreated, and the barn door banged, Joe felt his heart plummet into
his boots. Trouble had found him once more, and this time his Pa was going to
be the one to suffer the consequences. Hot tears soaked into his blindfold once
more as he thought of Adam, and of how his family would feel when they found
him.
It
was a long night for Joe.
*****************
Looking
down at Adam, Ben felt anger growing in him, stronger and stronger each minute.
His sons had been ambushed, and he was responsible for it. But how was he to
have known that Collins would go to such lengths to get what he wanted? And was
it still worth refusing, Ben wondered. He didn’t care what happened to him, as
long as his sons were safe. Collins obviously knew this. Joe was missing, and
Ben had to assume that Collins had him.
Tension
sat heavily across Ben’s shoulders, and he flinched when a large, warm hand
touched his shoulder and began to massage gently. Turning his head, he met
Hoss’ concerned blue gaze. “Are ya all right, Pa?” he asked, softly, lest he
disturb his sleeping brother.
“I
don’t know, son,” he admitted. “Adam might have died out there, and for all we
know, Joe might be dead. How can I be all right?”
“I
know,” Hoss said, heavily. “But Paul said Adam’s gonna be all right, didn‘t
he?” The anguish in Hoss’ voice was unmistakable, and Ben was reminded, as if
he needed reminding, that he had three sons that needed him.
“Yes,
Paul thinks Adam will pull through,” Ben said. “But if he had lain out there
until we realised he was missing, he would have died.” Ben tried to repress the
shudder that ran down his spine. If Fred hadn’t been coming back from a
neighbouring ranch, where he had been helping out for a few days, Adam would
certainly have died. As it was, he was seriously ill, but likely to recover.
Roy was still trying to discover the identity of the dead man found at the
scene.
Of
Joe, there had been no trace.
***************
There
was no discernible difference between night and day for Joe. He thought he had
slept a little, but the relentless throb of his shoulders and stomach robbed
him of rest. When he was awake, he strained his ears to hear any sounds there
might be, but apart from some snuffling of the horses in the barn, there was
silence.
When
the barn door opened the next day, Joe started. Unconsciously, he drew his legs
up, so he felt slightly less vulnerable. But Joe was no fool. He knew he was
completely helpless, and at the mercy of whomever had taken him captive.
Although Joe suspected that it was Bill Collins, he didn’t know, and had no way
of finding out. Footsteps approached
him, and Joe suddenly caught the smell of hot bacon. His stomach rumbled. It
had been many hours since Joe had last eaten.
Rough
hands pulled the gag out of Joe’s mouth and a canteen of water was shoved at
him. “Drink!” ordered a voice, and Joe obediently gulped down the liquid. He
didn’t need to be told to do it. After a few mouthfuls, the canteen was
withdrawn and Joe smelt the bacon suddenly closer. He opened his mouth without
prompting and chewed the resulting mouthful. The bacon was burnt and crispy,
but it tasted great to Joe. Once he had finished eating, he was offered more
water, and allowed to drink his fill. Not knowing when he would next get any,
Joe drank deeply.
The
canteen was withdrawn again, and Joe started to thank whoever it was for the
food. However, he didn’t get a chance to say anything, as the gag was thrust
roughly back in. Joe fought helplessly against it, but the cloth was tied
tightly round his head. Then the blindfold and the ropes were checked, and then
the footsteps left.
Joe
was alone.
****************
Sitting
looking out of the office shack’s window, Collins stroked his chin thoughtfully.
He knew that Joe Cartwright would be useful to him, but he wasn’t sure how long
he wanted to keep the youth around for. The longer he was there, the more
chance there was of him being discovered by one of the miners. Although Collins
paid well, and was almost universally feared, he knew there was always a chance
that someone would find Joe, and tell the sheriff.
Rising
to look at the map pinned to the wall, Collins traced the path he wanted to
mine under the Ponderosa. How long would it be before Ben Cartwright
capitulated to his demands? Collins smiled grimly. Did Cartwright really think
that giving in would get him his son back in one piece? No, once Cartwright had
granted the mining rights, he would get Joe back dead. And he still had another
son living that could prove useful if the need arose. And if he had to kill all
three sons, well, it didn’t matter. Cartwright certainly wouldn’t have any
resistance left if that happened.
The
office door burst open, and Weber came in. Collins knew at once that he
wouldn’t like whatever his deputy had come to tell him. He was right.
“Boss,
Adam Cartwright is still alive!” Weber panted. He shut the door behind him with
a bang. “I just heard in town.”
“How
can that be?” Collins demanded. “Didn’t you make sure he was dead?”
“He
was bleeding heavily,” Weber said, defensively. “The wagon was miles from
anywhere. I was sure he’d be dead before anyone found him.”
The
anger burning through Collins couldn’t be contained. He swung on Weber and
backhanded the bigger man across the face. “You idiot!” Collins screamed. “He
might be able to identify you!” His mind raced as he tried to see a way through
this mess. He drew in some deep breaths, and Weber surreptitiously wiped his
mouth as he warily watched his boss.
Calm
at last, Collins sat down. Weber hid the sigh of relief that shook him. He had
somehow survived the storm, although he knew others who had paid with their
lives for making a mistake like he had done. He kept his gaze on Collins,
determined not to transgress again.
“This
is what we’ll do,” Collins said. “Once the shift has changed, and the miners
have gone home or underground, move Cartwright. Take him to the abandoned
shaft. It’s all ready. There are supplies ready there.” He gestured to a box in
the corner. “Then you get out of sight. I don’t want to see you until I send
word that its all clear.”
“Where
will I go?” Weber asked, fearfully.
“There’s
an old cabin near the abandoned shaft,” Collins said. “You can stay there.
Check on Cartwright every day. Keep his blindfold on, but you can remove the
gag. If I need you to kill him, I can send word.”
“Yes,
boss,” Weber said. “I’m sorry.”
“Get
out,” Collins said, contemptuously.
****************
As
night fell, Adam’s fever rocketed again. Ben had been by his side all day,
fighting the infection that coursed through his oldest son’s body. Adam had
been unconscious since he had been found the previous day, and there had been
no word about Joe. The combined worry had robbed Ben of any chance of rest the
previous night, and he didn’t anticipate things changing that coming night.
“Pa!”
Hoss charged into the room, flapping a piece of paper. He looked agitated.
“What
is it?” Ben asked, tiredly, wondering if he really cared what it was.
“This
note – it’s about Joe.” Hoss thrust the paper at his father.
“Joe?”
Ben snatched it and read it. It basically said that Joe was a prisoner and
would be held until such times as Ben agreed to allow Silver Hills to mine the
Ponderosa. As the meaning of the words sank in, Ben collapsed back onto the
seat. “Oh Lord, no!” It was a prayer.
“Its
that Collins, ain’t it?” Hoss asked, angrily. He was twisting his large hands
into fists, and Ben didn’t doubt that his son wished he could do that with
Collins’ neck, and wring the truth out of him. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be
that simple. Wherever Collins had Joe hidden, it wouldn’t be openly on Silver
Hills Mines property.
“It
looks that way,” Ben said. “This isn’t signed, and I doubt if Collins was
stupid enough to write this himself. And even if Roy got permission to look
round Collins’ mines and home, I doubt if we’d find Joe there. We’ll have to
try and convince Collins that we’re willing to let him mine the ranch, and
trick him into leading us to Joe.”
“D’you
think that will work?” Hoss asked, doubtfully.
“I
don’t know,” Ben admitted, looking at Adam. “But I have to try something.”
************
At
the sound of hurried footsteps entering his prison, Joe lifted his head. He was
extremely weary, his body aching from the tight confinement. Yet sleep had
evaded him. Now, he tensed, and was surprised when someone began to fumble with
the ropes that bound him.
He
must have made some sort of questioning sound, for there was a grunt of muffled
laughter. “No, I ain’t here to rescue you, boy,” Weber growled. He was none too
gentle as he removed the ropes.
Tense,
Joe wondered if he would be freed enough to make a break for freedom, but his
hopes were to be dashed. His hands and feet remained bound, and he was dragged
roughly across the ground before being heaved onto a horse, face down on his
stomach. He had barely recovered from his last experience of that, and couldn’t
stifle a groan. Weber ignored him as he tied the thongs that would stop Joe
sliding off the saddle.
It
was a miserable trip for Joe, and by the time it ended, he was in a great deal
of discomfort, and determined to make a bid for freedom. He didn’t know how
much longer he could endure his captivity. He had too much time to think, and
his thoughts were centred chiefly on his family, and the grief they must be
feeling over Adam, for Joe was convinced that his oldest brother was dead.
He
was dragged into an echoey place, and somewhere nearby came the steady drip
drip drip of water. The air felt damp, too. Joe shivered as the cold penetrated
his jacket. He didn’t know where he was, and was afraid to let his imagination
break free. Although not claustrophobic, Joe hated mines, and avoided them
whenever possible. He had seen too many disasters to be totally comfortable
within their confines. Somewhere, a little voice was telling him that this was
a mineshaft. Joe tried, hopelessly, to ignore it.
His
chance to break for freedom came as his captor untied his feet. Joe had been awaiting
just such an opportunity, and forced his stiff legs into a run. He had no idea
which direction to head in, and ran straight into the rock wall. The force of
the impact knocked Joe off his feet, and he was dazed for a few minutes. That
allowed Weber the chance to shackle Joe’s feet with the irons that were already
imbedded in the rock. Then, he untied the youth’s hands, and clipped handcuffs
round them. The cuffs were then attached to a chain that went round Joe’s
waist. The chain was short enough that Joe wouldn’t be able to get his hands to
his face without extreme difficulty. But to make sure that Joe didn’t get the
blindfold off – not that Weber thought it would make any difference if he did –
he fastened a collar round Joe’s neck, and the chain from it was hammered into
the wall, too, and effectively kept the youth from bending over.
Grinning,
Weber stepped back to admire his handiwork. Joe was chained to the walls in a
seated position. He would be barely able to move, but the food and water would
be left within reach. Not easy reach, for Weber had a streak of sadism in his
nature, and didn’t want to make anything easy for this boy. Seeing the youth
stirring back to full consciousness, Weber reached down and removed the gag.
“Listen
good, boy,” he said. “There’s food and water here.” He put Joe’s hand on them,
seeing the youth’s struggle to reach. “I’ll be back to check up on you. There’s
no one to hear you shout, so don’t waste your breath.”
“My
Pa will kill you for this,” Joe grated, through his dry mouth. His head pounded
unmercifully.
“Oh
yeah?” Weber laughed, and punched Joe in the stomach. “I don’t think so, boy.
Your Pa is too busy grievin’ for your brother to worry about you!” With a nasty
laugh, he left.
The
pain in Joe’s stomach was nothing to the pain in his heart. “Oh, Adam,” he
sobbed.
****************
“I
reckon you’re right, Ben,” Roy said. “But Collins is a slippery fellow, and
catchin’ him is gonna be difficult.”
“I
know that,” Ben agreed, his tone exasperated. He tried to stifle his
impatience, knowing that he had had time to think this through, and Roy hadn’t.
“But we’ve got to make Collins think that Adam is dead, and I’m willing to do
what I have to, to get Joe back.” He swallowed. “If I thought that allowing him
the rights would get Joe back safe and sound, I wouldn’t hesitate. But I know
that I won’t get Joe back safely if I do give in.” Ben bit his lip to control
the emotions that threatened to break free.
“I
bin checkin’ into Collins background,” Roy said. “Although he don’t have a
record, he’s well known for bein’ ruthless in business, and there are a few
unproved rumours of him doing similar things to this in the past. Are you sure
you want to risk this, Ben?”
“If
it was your son out there, would you want to?” Ben shot back, and Roy said no
more. In truth, Ben wasn’t sure if this was a viable risk, but he had to do
something. Adam still hovered between life and death. He still hadn’t regain
consciousness, and they were beginning to fear that he never would. Ben didn’t
want another son in jeopardy for one second longer than was necessary, and was
willing to put his own life on the line to ensure Joe’s safety.
Once
more, they went over the plan, until Roy had it straight. Then Ben rose, put on
his hat and shuffled disconsolately outside to his horse. It wasn’t hard to act
as though he had lost a son, for in truth he had. He didn’t know where Joe was,
and Adam, although they had his body, his mind seemed to be beyond reach. Many
people, seeing his downcast head and grim demeanour, paused, and said a prayer,
for it was apparent that Adam had died.
Watching
from his office window, Roy gave Ben some time to get clear of town, then went
to spread the word that Adam Cartwright had been murdered.
*****************
That
night was the longest yet for Joe. With extreme difficulty, he had managed to
force down some bread, but although he was hungry, his stomach rebelled against
the food, and Joe gave up after a time. His head still ached, and his nose was
blocked with what felt like dried blood. He had very little recollection of
crashing into the wall, and wondered if he had been beaten more than just the
punch he remembered. He was grateful that the gag was gone, for otherwise, he’d
have been in grave difficulty with his breathing.
His
mind whirled non-stop, and Joe had grieved for Adam endlessly. Once or twice,
anger at the callous person who’d shot his brother broke through, but the
brief, warming spurt never lasted long as the depressing reality of his captivity
impinged on his consciousness again and again. By morning, Joe was no longer
sure if he cared whether he lived or died.
But
as the earth above him warmed up with the rising sun, hope began to make its
presence felt. Joe was by nature optimistic. He was sure that Ben would be
hunting for him, and perhaps his captor was lying about Adam being dead. He was
certain his brother had still been alive when he himself had been dragged off,
and surely someone would have found him in time? Against all the odds, Joe
found that he was no longer despairing.
***************
“That
is tragic, Sheriff,” Collins said. “Poor Mr Cartwright. Who would do such a
thing?”
“That’s
the question,” Roy said, nodding as though he were a complete idiot. He’d often
found that his exterior persuaded criminals that he was a bumbling old fool and
used it to his advantage. “We’re askin’ everyone if they were round there about
the time it happened, or have heard anything that might help.”
“I’m
sorry,” Collins said, fighting to keep the shocked look on his face. “I had
heard that Adam had been shot – I believe one of the miners mentioned it – but
I didn’t know it was life-threatening.”
“Its
sad,” Roy said. “And the younger lad kidnapped, too. It’s a wicked world.” He
kept his eyes on Collins and his face as bland as he knew how, squinting as
though he was very shortsighted, and was rewarded a moment later when Collins
couldn’t quite contain a smile.
“Poor
man,” he said again. He couldn’t wait to get the sheriff out of his office. He
now had Ben Cartwright exactly where he wanted him, and he couldn’t wait to
start putting the pressure on him. In his pocket was a note from Ben, saying he
was willing to meet and discuss the mining rights.
After
a few more pointless questions, Roy took his leave, making a meal out of
mounting, and being sure to clutch the saddle horn as his horse turned. He
could feel Collins’ grin on his back until he was out of sight. It didn’t worry
Roy that he could no longer see Collins, for Clem and a posse were watching
Collins closely.
****************
“I
wish I didn’t have to leave you, Adam,” Ben said. “Hop Sing is here, though.”
“Joe
needs you, too,” Adam whispered, and his eyes opened briefly. Adam had finally
come round a short time ago, and Ben had filled him in on what had happened, to
the best of his knowledge. Adam was still seriously ill; his temperature was
high, and he was finding it difficult to stay awake and alert. Ben wished that
he could stay with Adam and keep watch over him, as he had through most of
Adam’s illnesses, but he had to go and find Joe.
“I’ll
be back as soon as I can,” Ben promised. He allowed himself to briefly caress
his son’s head.
“Be
careful,” Adam whispered, and didn’t move his head. It comforted him to feel
his father’s reassuringly cool hand on his head. As Ben left, Adam slipped into
a restless sleep once more.
**************
“He
hasn’t moved yet,” Roy said, and the frustration was clear in his voice. “But he
sent someone off to town, so I’d guess he’s going for more confirmation.”
“Good,”
Ben grunted.
“There
is something odd though,” Clem Foster, the deputy said. “The man he sent isn’t
his second in command, who usually does these sorts of errands. We haven’t seen
him once since we got here, and that’s been hours.” Clem gave Ben a significant
look. “They’re usually joined at the hip,” he added.
“Where
would he be?” Roy asked. “Any idea where he stays?”
“Far
as I know, he lives with Collins,” Clem said. “I’ve never seen him anywhere
else.”
“He
hasn’t been there for a few days,” said one of the other men. “He left a few
days ago, and nobody’s seen him come back.”
“Look,”
interjected one of the others. “He’s leaving.”
They
all crowded closer to the ground to avoid being seen, and watched as Collins
mounted a bay horse standing outside the shack. He turned and rode off in the
opposite direction to the one they had been expecting. “Come on,” Roy said.
It’s
fairly tricky for quite a large body of men to follow one single person in
relatively open country without being seen. But thanks to Roy’s skill, and
Ben’s determination, they managed the feat. After a short ride, Collins drew up
in front of another shack. Weber came out onto the rickety porch at once.
Sound
carried quite well in that area. “What are you doing here?” Weber asked,
clearly surprised.
“You’re
off the hook,” Collins said. “Adam Cartwright died, and Ben will agree to let
me mine on the Ponderosa. He wants to ‘discuss’ it! He’ll agree, don’t worry.
Leave the kid where he is, and come on back to town. We have plenty to do. We
need more men just for starters.”
“I
don’t think you’ll just leave the kid where he is,” Roy said, stepping into
view.
Recoiling,
Collins inadvertently stepped in front of Weber, who took immediate advantage
of it. He dived back into the shack, and exited through the back window. “Shoot
him!” Clem shouted.
“No,
don’t!” Ben contradicted. “He knows where Joe is!”
“You
won’t get your son alive!” Collins shouted. He drew a gun from the waistband of
his pants and fired at the posse. At once, a couple of men fired back, and
Collins crumpled to the ground.
Horrified,
Ben stood frozen for an instant, until Hoss nudged him. “Come on, Pa,” he
urged. “That other fella must know where Little Joe is! Let’s follow him!”
“Of
course, you’re right,” Ben said, rousing from his reverie. Roy was kneeling by
Collins and shaking his head. Ben knew that his rival was dead. He didn’t feel
even a single pang of remorse. There wasn’t time. Weber was running flat out
away from them, and Ben’s concern was with Joe, not the dead man.
They
were gaining on him rapidly, spurred on by their anxiety, when Weber ducked
into an old mine shaft opening. Ben panted out some garbled instruction to
Hoss, but he could barely understand what he’d said himself, far less expect
Hoss to follow it. And anyway, his son knew the gist of it – be careful.
Inside
the mine, the sound of running footsteps roused Joe from a momentary doze. He
listened, terrified that his mind had conjured the sound, but still they came.
There was no way to tell if it was friend or foe, but Joe chose to gamble
anyway. “Here!” he yelled. “I’m here! Help me!”
“Shut
up, kid!” snarled a voice and Joe flinched away from the sound. He felt hands
unbuckle the collar round his neck, and then the man fumbled with the shackles
at his feet. Joe tensed himself to make a bid for freedom.
“Joe!”
“Here,
Pa!” Joe yelled, as loudly as he could. “I’m here!” He gasped as Weber
backhanded him viciously across the face.
As
Ben and Hoss came into the tunnel, guided by the tiny, flickering light Weber
had lit, the fugitive grabbed Joe and dragged the helpless youth in front of
him as a shield. He drew his gun and pointed it at Joe’s head. Ben and Hoss
skidded to a wary stop.
“Back
off,” Weber warned.
“Where
are you going to go?” Ben asked, in what he hoped was the voice of calm reason.
He certainly didn’t feel calm and reasonable, seeing his youngest son in such a
predicament. He wanted to throw himself on Weber and tear Joe from the man’s
grasp. But he forced himself to stand calm and still, ready for any move the
man might make.
“I
don’t care, I’m just going to get out of here,” Weber snarled. He started to
rise, then realised that he hadn’t managed to free Joe’s feet, and the youth
was still shackled to the wall. Straightening, he beckoned to Hoss. “Put your
gun down and come and unlock his feet. Don’t try anything.” He cocked the gun
and placed it hard against Joe’s head. Ben saw Joe swallow.
“Its
all right, Joe,” Hoss said, as he carefully did as he was told. He knelt by
Joe’s feet and began to intentionally fumble with the chains. “We’ll get you
out of here, Joe. Collins is dead.”
“What?”
Weber gasped. His grip tightened slightly. “You’re lying.”
“Nope,”
Hoss said, still fumbling and peering as though he was having difficulty seeing
what he was doing. “Seen him layin’ there dead myself.”
“Its
not true,” insisted Weber.
“Hoss
doesn’t lie,” Joe said, suddenly. They all glanced at him, slightly startled.
He sounded completely calm. Ben decided it was probably some kind of shock
setting in. It took all the self-control he could muster just to stand there
and watch.
“The
posse’s waitin’ for us outside right now,” Hoss asserted in a confident tone.
“I’m afraid Collins done left you to carry all the guilt.” He actually sounded
quite sorrowful.
That
was apparently the last straw for Weber. He suddenly leapt to his feet, firing
wildly. The Cartwrights all ducked, although it would probably be fairer to say
that Joe fell. Hoss threw himself on top of his younger brother, determined to
keep him safe. Joe let out a shout of anguish. But neither Ben nor Hoss was
looking at him, for Weber turned the gun on himself and pulled the trigger.
********************
“Joe,
are you all right?” Ben asked, snatching his son into a warm embrace, while
Hoss finished releasing the evil chains that had held him prisoner for so long.
Gently, he eased the blindfold off.
After
so long in the dark, Joe’s eyes protested to even the small amount of light
there was in the tunnel. However, after several minutes, he was able to stand
it better, and Ben helped him to his feet. Joe was weak, but refused to be carried
from the mine as though he was totally helpless. With Ben on one side and Hoss
on the other, he shuffled slowly across the uneven surface, welcoming the pain
of returning circulation.
Outside,
they met up with the posse, who had heard the shooting and come running. After
greeting Joe joyfully, Roy looked at Ben. “Weber?” he asked.
Inclining
his head, Ben said,” Back there. It was suicide.”
There
was no need to say more. Clem looked at Roy, who nodded, and he disappeared
into the mine. After a very short time, he re-appeared, looking rather green.
He didn’t say anything to Roy, but the look on his face said it for him.
Meantime,
Joe had been resting, leaning against Ben, who couldn’t keep from touching his
youngest boy. Joe was filthy and pale, but looked wonderful to Ben’s anxious
eyes. He could see various indications that Joe wasn’t in perfect health, but
he had expected that. He was just grateful to have him back in one piece.
“Pa?”
Joe murmured. He had his eyes shut against the brightness of the light.
“How’s…?” He was unable to go on, but Ben knew exactly what he wanted to ask.
“He’s
going to be all right,” he said. “Adam is still ill, but he’ll make it, Joe,
don’t worry.”
Despite
the pain he suffered, Joe opened his eyes to look deeply into his father’s
eyes. He knew Ben wouldn’t lie to him about this, but he just needed to make
eye contact. The dampness in Ben’s eyes triggered a corresponding dampness in
Joe’s and he hastily shut them, but not before one tear escaped and tracked its
way down his dirty cheek. “I thought…” he said softly, but didn’t need to go
on. Ben knew only too well what Joe had thought. He hugged his son close.
“Hoss,
let’s get Joe home,” he said, feeling Joe shiver in the chill wind. Hoss came over
to help, but once again Joe insisted on walking, and they supported him to
where they had left the horses. Not knowing what kind of condition they would
find Joe in, Ben had opted not to bring another horse, and so he boosted Joe
onto the front of his own saddle, so he could have the reassurance of Joe’s
physical presence as they rode home.
******************
By
the time they arrived back at the ranch, Joe’s seriously diminished stamina had
run out entirely, and his legs refused to support him. He was pale under the
dirt caked over every inch of him and looked totally exhausted. Ben slid down
form Buck’s back, and eased Joe down, and then he and Hoss carried him to the
house between them. The posse was sending Doc Martin out from the town.
“We’ll
take him straight up to bed,” Ben panted, for although Joe wasn’t heavy,
carrying him like that was awkward.
“I
wanna see Adam first,” Joe protested in a thin voice. “Please, Pa. I gotta see
him.”
“All
right,” Ben capitulated, totally understanding Joe’s need to see Adam. And he
knew that Adam felt the same way, and it would be several days, at best, before
either young man was fit enough to get up and walk about the house.
The
oldest Cartwright son was slumbering when his bedroom door opened to admit the
rest of his family, and he stirred reluctantly to peer blearily at the
intruders. However, any disgruntlement disappeared when he saw who was doing
the disturbing. “Joe!” he exclaimed, and made an unwise move to sit up.
Ben
all but dropped Joe as he put his hand out to stop Adam from rising, but the
rush of dizziness that Adam experienced as he lifted his head reminded him that
he was in no fit state to do much moving, and he lay back own at once. Joe said
nothing, but the smile on his face left none of them in any doubts about his
feelings. The last time Joe had seen Adam, he was bleeding copiously and deeply
unconscious. His blood had dried into the clothes Joe was still wearing.
“Right,
bed now,” Ben said, and they took Joe to his own room.
Because
of his son’s weakened state, Ben gently helped him strip off the filthy
clothes, only belatedly realising the blood on the jacket wasn’t Joe’s. Apart
from the blood on his face, Joe’s injuries seemed to be mostly restricted to
bruises, but then, as he helped Joe off with his shirt, he saw the huge red
welt between his shoulders. “What’s this, son?” he asked, resisting the
temptation to touch it.
“I
got hit by a rifle,” Joe said. “When I was kidnapped. I made a break for
freedom, and nearly got away. But I got hit by the rifle, and when I woke up I
was face down over a horse.” He tenderly felt his stomach, which was certainly
well bruised.
At
that juncture, Hoss arrived with the tin bathtub, and after a few trips up and
down stairs, the bath was filled with warm water, and Joe was able to soak the
grime off. Ben helped him rinse the soap from his hair, and dry off. Hoss was
just removing the bathtub when Paul Martin appeared.
After
a thorough examination, Paul straightened. “No major damage this time,” he
said. “His eyes might be sensitive for a while, but there’s nothing wrong with
them. That welt on his back is slightly infected, but nothing too bad. I’ll
clean it up, and put a dressing on it. Apart from that, the rope burns, cracked
ribs and that grazed face are the big problems.”
Frowning,
Ben said, “But the graze on his face isn’t serious is it?”
“Well,
it is when you’re as vain as Joe,” Paul said, with a straight face, and both Ben
and Joe had to laugh, even though Joe clutched his ribs as he did so.
It
wasn’t long after that that Joe was bandaged and settled off to sleep with the
aid of some painkillers. Paul took the opportunity to look in on Adam, and was
pleased to see that his fever had gone at last. “You’ll be fine in a few weeks,
Adam,” he said. “Just don’t rush back to work. Help keep Joe occupied.”
Rolling
his eyes, Adam said, “I’d rather go back to work, thanks!”
*****************
Later,
after Paul had gone, and Hoss was in bed, Ben put out the lamps and went
upstairs. He looked in first on Adam. He looked a lot better, with his face
resuming its normal healthy colour. Ben couldn’t help but check for fever once
more, although it had gone. Adam didn’t stir under his touch. “God bless,” Ben
whispered.
In
the next room, Hoss was sound asleep on his back, snoring away gently. Ben
tucked the blankets round his shoulders, for the night was cool. Hoss was
oblivious to the presence of his parent and slept on. Once more, Ben whispered,
“God bless.”
Lastly,
he checked on Joe. He was sprawled all over the bed, as was his habit, and
although he was still pale, and seemed thin, Ben knew that he had come to no
serious hurt this time. Joe murmured something and Ben crossed to check him for
fever. As he touched Joe, the youth’s eyes flew open, and Joe said, “Pa?” in a
confused tone.
“Shh,
Joe, go back to sleep,” Ben soothed. “I was just making sure you were all
right.” He straightened the bedclothes and sat down on the edge of the bed. Joe
took his hand.
“Is
Collins dead?” he asked, which was not what Ben had expected him to say at all.
“Yes,
he is,” Ben answered.
“Then
the land is safe?” Joe went on, and Ben could see where he was headed now.
“Yes,
the land is safe, and you are all safe, too,” he said.
Comforted,
Joe closed his eyes briefly. “What about the men who work at the mines?” he
asked. “Will they lose their jobs?”
“I
don’t know,” Ben said, stroking Joe’s head. “But I’m sure someone will buy the
mines, and the men should be all right. Don’t worry about them now, Joe. Just
rest and get better.”
“I’m
all right,” Joe said. “At first, I thought Adam was dead, but you know, Pa,
after a while, I became convinced he wasn’t. And I knew you’d come looking for
me.”
“Always,
son,” Ben said, hoarsely. “I’ll always come looking for you when you need me.”
He
drew Joe into an embrace, and they sat there for a long time, until finally the
younger man slipped into a deep, restful sleep. Laying Joe carefully down, Ben
looked at him. “Always, Joe,” he repeated.
The End