Jock
By: Rona Y.
“Adam,” Hoss said, as he
and his brother laboriously painted the walls in the main room of the
Ponderosa. They were almost finished this chore, and were just touching up some
bits. “D’you remember telling us about Jock, who used ta work here?”
“Sure,” Adam replied. “What
about him?”
“Well,” Hoss said, putting
down his brush, “I were thinkin’ and you was wrong.”
“I was?” Adam parried, not
having the least clue what Hoss was leading up to. He remembered the
conversation they’d had just a few days before about Jock, but he couldn’t
imagine why Hoss was bringing it up now. “In what way?” he enquired, putting
his own brush down.
“I don’ reckon we was kids
when Jock worked for us,” stated Hoss. “Joe was jist a young’un, but we was
both growed up.”
Frowning, Adam thought
back. He had mentioned Jock a few days before, when they had been talking about
Patty Smith, a young woman who had escaped from an asylum. Patty had tried to
kill both Joe and Ben, the boys’ father, and had set fire to the house.
Luckily, the damage was minimal and both Joe and Ben were going to be fine.
“Yes,” he admitted, “I was wrong. It just seems long ago.”
“That’s cuz you’re gettin’
old,” Hoss assured his brother. “They do say time moves more quickly as you get
older.”
“Ah, shut up and do some
painting,” Adam advised, but he couldn’t keep the laugh out of his voice.
****************
By the next day, the room
was finished. The furniture had been cleaned and was set back into its usual position
and life began to return to normal. Joe was laid up in bed still with his
sprained ankle and stab wound, but Ben was resuming his usual role once more.
Deciding that the freshly painted room demanded a celebration, Ben got Hop Sing
to organise a special meal and hatched plans to allow Joe to come down stairs.
When evening came, Hoss
carefully carried Joe downstairs and laid him on the couch. Ben tenderly tucked
a blanket around Joe’s legs, and made sure he was comfortable. Joe gazed around
the room, his eyes finally coming to light on Ben’s face. He looked
disappointed.
“What is it?” Ben asked,
suddenly worried that Joe had hurt himself.
“I thought it might be
pink,” Joe offered in a small voice, and let out a great shout of laughter as
he saw the look on Ben’s face.
“Pink!” Ben roared, while
Adam and Hoss exchanged puzzled glances. Neither of them had been privy to the
conversation where Joe had asked his father if he was intending painting the
main room pink or green. However, Ben wasn’t able to keep up the façade of
being annoyed with Joe as he saw the laughter glittering in the youth’s green
eyes. “I’ll give you pink, boy!” he threatened.
*****************
The meal was a wonderful as
usual, and everyone ate enough to satisfy Hop Sing – even Joe. His appetite had
suffered as he lay in bed, but being up had excited Joe and he ate with gusto.
Meals alone in his room had very little appeal for him, despite the excellence
of the food.
Afterwards, they gathered
round the fire once more. Joe looked tired, but he insisted he was all right,
and Ben allowed him to sit up longer, knowing that he would spend the next day
in bed. Joe and Hoss played checkers, but it was awkward for Joe to lie on the
settee and reach the board and after only one game, he was ready to give up.
Casting around for
something to entertain Joe, Hoss once more brought up the subject of Jock.
“Hey, Pa, you know somethin’?” Hoss began. “Adam here was wrong about somethin’
today.”
“No wonder we’re having
funny weather,” Joe commented. “Did Adam admit he was wrong?” Hoss nodded
solemnly. “It’ll be purple snow next!” Joe exclaimed, giggling away.
The struggle to keep a
straight face was almost too much for Adam. He shot Hoss what he fondly
imagined was a dirty look, but since Hoss was guffawing along with Joe’s
giggling, he wasn’t entirely successful in his endeavours.
“What were you talking
about?” Ben asked, smiling.
“About Jock,” Hoss puffed.
“Adam said the other day that Jock had worked for us when we was kids. I told
him Jock worked for us when we was growed up and Joe was a young’un. You’d a bin about 16, Shortshanks.”
“I remember,” Joe murmured,
his laughter gone. Hoss looked at him with deep concern. Joe was suddenly very
pale.
“You all right, Joe?” he asked,
puzzled by his brother’s sudden change in mood.
“I’m fine,” Joe assured
him. The colour was coming back into his face. “I just hadn’t thought of Jock
in a long time, that’s all.” He glanced at his father to reassure Ben that he
was all right. “Jock was a nasty piece of work,” Joe commented, and they all
thought back.
******************
“Watch what you’re doing!”
Adam chided Hoss, as the middle brother almost knocked Joe out of the hay loft
with the bale of hay he was heaving up.
“You wanna do this?” Hoss
demanded, his back and arms aching from the strain of hauling bale after bale
into the loft. Joe had been left in the loft to snag each bale as it came his
way, and stack them neatly. Adam had the easiest job of all, passing the bales
to Hoss from the back of the wagon. Quite how things always worked out this way
was a mystery to Joe and Hoss. They knew Adam was cheating somehow, but neither
of them had figured it out.
“No, that’s all right,”!
Adam assured him. “I’m quite happy doing what I’m doing.”
“Listen,” Joe called down,
indignation colouring his tones. “I don’t want to learn to fly here!”
“Ah hush up!” Hoss panted.
He eyed with disgust the bale that Adam had just attached to the pulley.
“What’s all the racket
about?” Ben asked, coming out into the yard. He was destined to never get an
answer, for at that moment, a horseman came riding into the yard, and they all
stopped to look at him, for he was a stranger.
“I’m looking for Ben
Cartwright,” the man said, his accent decidedly Scottish.
“You’ve found him,” Ben
replied, stepping forward. “How can I help you?”
“I’m Jock,” the other said.
“I’m looking for a job and was told you’re looking for men.” His voice was
cultured, in contrast to the shabby clothes he wore.
“That’s right,” Ben answered,
cautiously. “But I’m looking for cowboys. Have you ever pushed cows?”
“Mr Cartwright, I’ve done
just about every job there is,” Jock responded. “I have done a little. I
wouldn’t say I’m experienced, but I’m willing to work.”
“All right,” Ben nodded.
“We pay $£30 a month, bunk and beans.”
“Thank you,” Jock replied.
He swung down from his horse and looked around him for the first time.
“These are my sons,” Ben
said. “Adam, Hoss and Little Joe.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Jock
responded, eyeing the brothers closely. Ben could see that he was curious about
the differences in the brother’s appearance, but he didn’t offer to explain. He
knew the hands would soon have the man apprised of the family situation. Jock’s
eyes lingered longer on Joe, but he didn’t stare. “Where’s the bunkhouse?” he
asked, and Ben pointed him in the right direction.
They stared after him until
Joe called, “Any chance of finishing this today? I don’t want to get old and
grey up here you know.”
“I’m a comin’,” Hoss
grumbled, putting his not inconsiderable muscle into the job.
“Oh to be 16 again,” Ben
sighed. “All that youth and energy.”
“And trouble,” Adam added
in an aside. Ben grinned and went back inside.
**************
Over the next few days,
they all kept an eye on Jock, making sure that he was up to the job. They had
round-up coming up and would be on the trail for a few weeks, and the last
thing they wanted was a hand who wasn’t up to the job. However, although it was
clear that Jock wasn’t experienced, he did have a good idea of what he was
meant to do, and they stopped worrying about him.
As they got underway on the
big cattle drive, Joe found himself riding drag with Jock. It was the worst
position on the round-up, and Joe hated it. However, he knew that he had to
take his turn with everyone else. Joe was very conscious of his new adult
status. He had left school finally that spring, after persuading his father
that he didn’t want to go to college. Ben had guessed this would be how Joe
felt, but lived in hope that his son would change his mind. But the boy’s
eloquent pleading had finally worn down Ben’s resistance, and he had agreed to
let the boy leave school and work full time on the ranch. It was the only thing
Joe had ever wanted to do and he could turn his hand to most of the jobs around
the place.
At 16, Joe seemed to have
stopped growing. He had been small for his age for a long time, but over the
last few months had shot up. He was still smaller than everyone else in the
family, and slender, but Ben thought he might always be that way. His mother
had been small and slender, and Joe resembled her very much. Since starting
full time work, Joe had calmed a lot, although he still had a spectacular
temper and could lose it at the drop of a hat. Ben thought the change had done
him good.
“Bet you never thought
you’d end up in
“You’re right there,” Jock
replied. “It’s not quite what I thought I’d be doing here in the
“Where are you from?” Joe
asked, not wanting to ask what Jock had envisaged himself doing. “I know its
“I’m from
“I’ve never heard of it,”
Joe admitted.
“Doesn’t surprise me, lad,”
Jock replied with a grin. “Most Americans haven’t heard of it.” He stretched.
“Aye, but this is a good country, lad. I miss my home, but I like it here.”
Over the next few days, Joe
began to make friends with Jock, interested in the stories he had to tell about
his life in
That didn’t stop Joe
regaling Jock with stories about his own family. Jock had casually mentioned
the differences in appearance between the Cartwright sons, and Joe had needed
no more prompting to tell about the boys’ mothers. Jock had been very
interested, and was keen to learn how Ben had built up the Ponderosa and all
his other business interests. It didn’t occur to Joe that he was being pumped
for information.
One of the things that Jock
taught everyone was some of his native Scots words. He told them he spoke
Doric, which was the name of the north-east dialect. His dour performance had
them all laughing as he explained that you never sounded joyful, even if you
were and his response of “I’ve been affa weel this whilie bock,” to a question
about his health, reported in doleful tones, had them all in kinks. He told
them that girls were called ‘queans’ and the boys ‘loons’. He told them that if
someone was ‘sleekit’ they were sly and untrustworthy. Jock was a great
raconteur.
But for all that, Ben
didn’t really like the man. He didn’t know what it was, but he couldn’t bring
himself to warm towards him. Neither Adam nor Hoss were particularly drawn
towards the man either, even though Joe spent a good deal of time with him. Joe
was still young enough and impressionable enough not to see the barrier the man
kept around himself.
“It’s more than just a
feeling,” Ben murmured to Adam quietly as they stood near the chuck wagon a few
mornings later. Jock was regaling them with the history of
“Like what?” Adam asked,
looking, to all intents and purposes, as though he was listening to the story,
too.
“Quite a bit of that
rawhide Hoss had prepared; a couple of hammers, that sort of thing,” Ben elucidated.
“Nothing big, but I’ve gone a few times to pick up some tool I thought I needed
and it was gone.”
“Do you know for sure it
was Jock?” Adam asked, glancing at Ben.
“No, or I would have said
something to him before now,” Ben responded. “But just keep your eyes open.”
“I will,” Adam assured him.
His gaze was drawn to Joe. “Shouldn’t you warn Joe?”
“It wouldn’t do any good,”
Ben replied. “You know what Joe’s like. He’ll defend his friends until his
dying breath unless he has concrete proof of their ill-doing. No, leave Joe out
of this, but keep an eye on him. It’s odd that a man of Jock’s age should be so
interested in the boy.”
Heeding his intuition, Ben
had Joe ride with him that day. He was dismayed that Joe’s chatter should be all
about Jock, and found it difficult to introduce a new subject. Joe could be
frighteningly single-minded about things, but as he listened with half an ear
to Joe’s monologue, Ben realised that the boy had absorbed quite a bit of
Scottish history without being aware of it. Jock’s style of teaching had struck
a chord with Joe and he had sucked up the information like a sponge. Ben
couldn’t imagine that Scottish history might be of any use to Joe, but he was
pleased the boy was showing an interest.
***************
“Hello, Jock,” Ben said,
coming to sit beside the man. “How are you ‘enjoying’ the cattle drive?”
“Its pretty much what I
expected it would be,” Jock replied. “Hard work, but its good work.”
“I’m sorry we haven’t had
much time to talk,” Ben went on. “Joe was telling me you’re from
“I went to university,”
admitted Jock. “My people are landed, and there was enough money to let me do
that. But, I’m the younger son, Mr Cartwright, and I have to make my own way in
the world, so I decided to come across here.”
“What did you study?” Ben
asked.
“History,” he replied, and
gave a small laugh. “At one time, I thought I might become a dominie, but
teaching seemed a bit of a come down, so I came over here, where my title
doesn’t matter.”
“Title?” Ben echoed.
“Should I call you my lord?”
“Jock suffices,” the other
replied, his face alight with laughter. “You might guess that it isn’t my real
name, but that’s what everyone calls me over here, and I don’t mind.”
“What a dominie?” Ben
wanted to know.
“That’s what we call the
teacher back home, Mr Cartwright. The dominie is a feared and respected man. He
and the minister are beings high above everyone else. Well, almost, anyway. But
I didn’t want to have to strap my pupils and boss them around and have everyone
hate me. There isn’t much money in it, either, and I’m used to money. I’ve got
my chance to make my fortune over here.”
“I wish you luck,” Ben
said, truthfully. “But you would have made a good teacher. Joe has learned a
lot from you over the last few days.”
“He’s bright,” Jock agreed.
“Better watch out, Mr Cartwright. I might steal him away from you to help me
earn my fortune. He would be very good company.”
Laughing, Ben shook his
head. “Joe’s too young to be going off,” he replied. “But good luck all the
same.”
************************
“Tomorrow we’ll reach
From all around the hum of
voices broke out. It was always the same as the reached the end of the drive.
Men who had been too tired to speak suddenly rediscovered their tongues. The next
night, they would be sleeping in a real bed.
“You’re on the first shift
for watch tonight, Joe,” Adam commented as he put down his plate.
“I hadn’t forgotten,” Joe
responded, indignantly. “Let me finish eating at least!” He glared at his older
brother as he continued to shovel the bacon down his throat. The prospect of
sitting up half the night on watch wasn’t something that Joe had looked forward
to. He was tired after the long drive, although he wouldn’t have admitted it
under torture, and just hoped he would be able to stay awake.
Finishing his meal, Joe
returned his plate to the chuck wagon and went back to
***********************
The herd was settled for
the night, some asleep, some grazing peacefully, but all quiet. Joe yawned
convulsively once more, and rubbed his eyes, which were grainy. From somewhere
along the perimeter of the herd, he could hear a cowboy whistling an aimless
little tune. Joe didn’t recognise the melody, but since the cowboy only seemed
to know only one line of it, that didn’t help with identification! When the
irritation grew too much, Joe moved further along the herd, until he could no
longer hear the thready little whistle.
Dismounting, Joe offered
Cochise some water, and loosened the cinch slightly. He stretched his tired
muscles and yawned again. He still had another 2 hours until his shift ended.
How on earth was he going to keep awake? he wondered.
Movement in the darkness
shot a surge of adrenalin through Joe’s system. He reached for his gun and drew
it quietly. “Who’s there?” he challenged, and was disgusted to hear a quiver in
his voice. “Show yourself!” he added, and found his voice was stronger that
time.
“It’s just me, lad,” said a
familiar voice, and Joe relaxed as Jock came into view. “Its good to see you’re
alert, lad,” he added. “I might have been a pack of rustlers.” Moving closer to
Joe, who holstered his gun, Jock dropped his arm round Joe’s shoulder. “In the
Borders of Scotland, we call rustlers reivers,” he confided.
“Really?” Joe asked, and
was caught completely unaware as Jock clapped a hand over his mouth and bore
the startled boy to the ground. Joe fought furiously, but Jock’s weight easily
kept Joe a captive.
From all around Joe came
furtive sounds, and with a sinking heart, Joe realised that these were indeed
rustlers, come to steal some of the herd. Furious at being caught out, Joe
struggled even harder, but he got nowhere. Jock produced a bandanna from his
pocket and released Joe’s mouth to gag him. Joe took his chance. “Rustlers!” he
yelled, and Jock back-handed him savagely across the mouth, before jamming the
gag in.
The silence of the night was
disturbed as the other men on watch took up the cry. Cursing, Jock pulled the
struggling boy to his feet and started to drag him away. Joe fought furiously,
and managed to free one arm. He swung a punch at his captor and for an instant
the grip on his arm loosened. Joe wrenched himself away, but not far enough or
fast enough. A moment later, Jock’s hand fastened on Joe’s wrist, and he reeled
the boy in like a fish.
“That’s enough, lad!” Jock growled,
clearly furious. He twisted Joe’s arms up behind his back, and the youth
whimpered with pain. He was powerless to resist as Jock dragged him further
away from the herd. They stopped beside a horse that, even in the dim light,
Joe recognised as Jock’s, and the Scotsman took his rope from his saddle.
Throwing Joe to the ground, he swiftly bound the boy’s hands behind his back
and looped rope around his ankles. With Joe immobilised, Jock stood up again to
take stock of the situation.
Joe’s shout had roused the
camp and there was no chance now of them getting away with any cattle. It was
time to cut his losses, Jock realised, and gave a piercing whistle. Men on
horses rode towards him and he called, “Forget it!”
“Joe!” Ben’s voice shouted.
“Joe!”
Drawing his gun, Jock knelt
by Joe as his men melted into the darkness. A moment later, Ben appeared out of
the gloom and froze. “Joe!” he exclaimed.
“I can see we understand
each other, Mr Cartwright,” Jock said, slowly rising, and pulling Joe up with
him. Joe’s green eyes were fixed pleadingly on his father’s face. “I’m going to
ride out of here with your son, and if anyone tries to stop me, or if the
sheriff should come after me, young Joe here is going to meet with an
unfortunate accident. Do you understand? I’ll let you know how much it’ll cost
to get your son back, once I see you’ve sold your herd. Now, unless you want
that accident to happen here and now, I suggest you back off.”
“You’ll be all right, Joe,”
Ben called, as he backed his horse slowly away.
“If you harm him, Jock, there won’t be anywhere in this world big enough
for you to hide!”
“You’d better do as I say
then,” Jock returned, coldly. “Because I have no compunction about roughing him
up a little.” He tightened his arm around Joe’s throat and the boy choked.
“Understand?”
“I understand,” Ben
responded. “Joe, don’t worry, you’ll be all right, son. Just do what you’re
told and I’ll get you back.”
Biting back the sob that
rose in his throat, Joe nodded as he saw his father ride slowly away, looking
back over his shoulder all the way until he was lost from sight. As Jock
hustled him onto the front of his saddle, belly down, Joe realised that he was
on his own and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so frightened.
*****************
“We can’t just sit here!”
Adam exclaimed, jumping to his feet to start pacing again. “We’ve got to find
Joe!”
“I know that,” Ben returned
wearily. “But there’s nothing we can do tonight, Adam. Sit down, son, please.”
After a moment, Adam resumed his seat. “In the morning, we’d better start to
pull out like we intended. Hoss, I want you to stay here. We might be being
watched, and I don’t want to take any chances with Joe’s life. So, son, I want
you to pretend that you’re not well. If you get the chance, see if you can
locate any tracks.”
“Yes, sir,” Hoss agreed,
quietly. Worry lines were etching themselves between his brows.
“Adam, when we get to town,
I want you to circle back and meet up with Hoss here. If you think you aren’t
being watched, follow those tracks.” Adam nodded. He was frowning as well.
“What about you?” Adam
asked.
“I’ve got to sell the
herd,” Ben explained. “Jock is going to want whatever money we make from the sale
as his ransom for Joe.” Bitterness had crept into his voice. “He even warned
me, you know,” he growled. “Told me he might steal Joe away from me to help him
make his fortune.”
Wordlessly, Hoss squeezed
Ben’s arm. He wanted to say something encouraging and urge his father not to
worry, but he couldn’t find the words. Fear for Joe was eating away at his
insides. He had never seen what attracted Joe to Jock and now he wished he’d
done something more to keep the man and boy apart. However, a small voice in
his head told him that there was nothing he could have done to prevent this.
All they could do now was try and get Joe out of this situation without a
tragedy occurring.
It was a long night for the
Cartwrights.
*****************
As dawn broke, they mounted
up and headed off towards
“You, too,” Hoss replied
and closed his eyes for a few minutes. Once everyone was gone, Hoss rose and
pottered about the camp, stirring up the fire and heating up the pot of coffee
that had been left behind.
Several times over the course
of the morning, Hoss made a simulated dash behind a tree, pretending that he
was ill. There was no sign of movement from anywhere round about. At last, Hoss
had worked his way around to the area where Joe had been taken the night before
and he set about looking for tracks. They weren’t difficult to find and he made
a note of the direction they were heading before returning to the fire and
drinking some more coffee.
Adam returned in the
afternoon. By then, Hoss had had a good scout about and was convinced that if
there had been anyone watching him, they were long gone. Adam had also been
keeping a sharp eye out on his way back to camp and had seen nothing, so they
decided the risk was worth taking and began to follow the tracks that they
hoped would lead to their younger brother.
****************
Lying trussed on the ground
over by the horse lines, Joe watched every move Jock made. The big Scot had
slept for a good part of the night and into the morning, and Joe had envied him
the rest, for he had been unable to close his eyes. Sleep would sweep over him,
but when he tried to surrender to it, it vanished leaving him gazing into
darkness once more.
On and off all night, Joe
had fought his bonds, but the ropes never slackened. Joe’s wrists hurt and he knew
that he would have bad rope burns on them. His mouth was as dry as a desert,
but these were at least his only miseries at that moment. He hadn’t been
maltreated as such and for that Joe was grateful.
However, as the camp roused
and men headed off this way and that, Joe knew that Jock would be keeping a
close eye on him. Joe remembered what his father had said, and vowed that he
could keep his temper, no matter the provocation. His life might depend on his
good behaviour.
At last, Jock came over to
Joe and stood looking down on him. Joe could feel a flush creeping up his neck,
but he didn’t dare drop his eyes from the big man. “Well, Joe, sleep well did
you?” Jock asked, finally sitting down beside him. “No, I see that you didn’t,”
he noted, the betraying circles under Joe’s eyes telling him what he needed to
know. “I don’t suppose your precious family did either.” He laughed at the look
of rage that swept over the boy’s face. “You shouldn’t have told me so much
about your family, Joe. You told me everything I needed to know to set this
whole thing up.”
Guilt, swiftly followed by
anger, swept through Joe. He glared at his captor, renewing his struggles
against the ropes that bound him. Jock watched, clearly amused.
“Yes, you are spirited,
Joe,” he commented, as worn out, Joe lay still once more. “You’re a good kid. I
like you.” He grinned. “You’re bright, you know. You run yourself down, lad.
You told me brother Adam is the clever one, but you’re no slouch yourself.
Unlike brother Hoss, who isn’t in the same class.”
Another bust of anger shook
Joe as he heard Hoss being run down in that fashion. Hoss might not be good at book learning, but
he knew things Jock would never learn. Adam was recognised as the clever one of
the family, but Joe had never thought about his own abilities in that
direction. He had never thought he was running himself down at all. He just
knew he didn’t want to stay on at school or go to college. But praise from this
man was not something he could accept.
Smiling, Jock reached down
and pulled the gag from Joe’s mouth. “You hungry?” he asked.
“Yes,” Joe whispered. His
lower lip began to throb as he spoke. He had forgotten about the smack in the
face he’d received the night before. He’d had too much else on his mind.
“Thought you might be,”
Jock commented and got up to fetch some food and water. Coming back, he set it
on the ground and pulled Joe into a sitting position, leaning him back against
a tree. “I’m not going to free your hands, lad,” he warned, “So don’t get any ideas.”
He held a cup to Joe’s mouth and the boy drank gratefully.
“Why are you doing this?”
Joe asked, looking with distaste at the rubbery scrambled eggs on the plate.
“I told you I’d come to
“You’re despicable,” Joe
muttered. “After Pa gave you a job.”
“Pushing cows isn’t a great
job,” Jock told him. “If you’re stupid enough to want to do that all your life,
then you’re as brainless as that fat lump of a brother of yours.”
“Stop calling Hoss stupid!”
Joe flared. “He’s not stupid!”
Anger erupted in Jock’s
eyes and Joe shrank back in fear. He remembered his earlier vow to keep his
temper and cursed himself silently. Jock reached out and casually backhanded
Joe again. “Don’t raise your voice to me, boy,” he warned. “If I say your
brother’s stupid, then he’s stupid, got that?”
Glaring at him, Joe didn’t
answer. He couldn’t bring himself to say his brother was stupid, no matter the
cost to himself. Jock grinned. He lifted a forkful of eggs towards Joe, but the
boy was too angry to be hungry and he turned his head away.
“Suit yourself, lad,” Jock
commented, putting the plate aside. “It’s no matter to me if you decide to
starve yourself. I’m not going to make you eat.” He lifted the gag again and
Joe recoiled.
As Jock tried to put it on,
Joe kicked out with his feet, desperate to avoid having the gag on again. He
struck Jock painfully on the shin and the big man dropped the gag to clutch his
leg until the sting went out of it. Joe looked at him wide-eyed, suddenly
realising what he had done.
“That was very stupid,
laddie,” Jock said, as he regained his breath. “Very stupid indeed.” Moving very
slowly and deliberately, Jock grabbed the front of Joe’s jacket and hoisted the
boy to his feet. He relished the look of fear in the boy’s eyes as he cocked
his fist then threw the first of many punches.
When he had finished, Joe
lay semi-conscious on the ground. Kneeling beside him, Jock examined his
handiwork. The boy’s face was already puffy with bruising and there was blood
running from his nose and mouth. Both his eyes were starting to swell and blood
ran down his cheek from a cut by his ear, where he had struck his head on the
tree. “I told you that was a stupid move, lad,” he commented as he gagged Joe,
oblivious of the boy’s torn lip. “Believe me the next time.”
**************
Never had a sale of beef
seemed so slow to Ben, yet he had sold his herd in record time and for a record
price. The big cities were desperate for beef, and Ben had built up a good
reputation over the years. The buyers were waiting for him to arrive, and as he
was one of the first breeders to appear, he got top dollar prices. Within 2
hours, every head of beef had been sold, and Ben, after paying the men off, had
a profit of $10,000.
Normally, he would have
been cock-a-hoop over such a profit, but the nagging worry for Joe robbed his
triumph of its lustre. Ben knew that this money would go towards freeing Joe.
He didn’t begrudge the money for Joe’s life, for he loved his son. He just
feared that the wily Scotsman wouldn’t keep to his side of the bargain.
“I’ll go back and join
Hoss,” Adam told him. “Be careful,
“You, too, Adam,” Ben
responded. “Both of you.” He watched as Adam rode off out of sight.
Disconsolately, Ben walked
back to Buck, and patted his horse absently. He had no idea what to do next.
“Mr Cartwright?”
Turning, Ben saw a young,
dark-haired man, dressed like a cowboy. “Yes?”
“Jock sent me.” At those
casually uttered words, Ben stiffened. The young man noticed at once. “Don’t do
anything stupid,” he warned. “I’ve got a message for you. Bring the money and
follow me if you want your son back.”
“All right,” Ben agreed,
knowing he had no choice. He tightened his cinch and led Buck over to where the
cowboy’s horse was and mounted. They headed off out of town, the cowboy saying
not another word. Ben started to pray.
*******************
“Can you see anything?”
Adam hissed.
“There’s Joe,” Hoss
answered. “He’s tied up by the horses and Jock’s with him.”
“How does he look?” Adam
wanted to know. There wasn’t room for them both to peer down from the vantage
point Hoss had found.
“Cain’t tell,” Hoss
replied. “He’s all curled up.” Hoss slithered backwards until he was once more
beside Adam and out of sight of the camp below. “I seen a trail leadin’ over
that way. If’n we go on foot, we shouldn’t be seen.”
“All right, lead the way,”
Adam said. “How many men are there?”
“I seen four countin’
Jock,” Hoss replied, as he led the way to the trail he had seen. They kept
their voices down and moved slowly, so as to avoid knocking any loose rocks.
“I bet there’s one meeting
with Pa,” Adam suggested. “Bound to be, don’t you think?”
“I reckon,” Hoss agreed. “I
jist hope we c’n get Joe out a there without any o’ us bein’ hurt.”
“Me, too brother,” Adam
said, fervently. “Me, too.”
******************
It was late afternoon
before Ben arrived at Jock’s camp. He had been led in a circuitous route, which
hadn’t fooled him at all, although he didn’t mention this. He dismounted as
told, wondering if Adam and Hoss had found the camp yet. He fervently hoped so,
as his chances of getting out of this alive were very slim.
“Over here, Cartwright,”
Jock called, and waved cheerfully.
Slowly, Ben made his way
over, careful to keep his hand away from his gun, which was still in his
holster. He was rather surprised at this, but was willing to take any lucky
cards that fate dealt to him. Anything that might give him an edge was welcome.
Jock was kneeling by Joe.
As Ben neared, he saw that Joe’s face was bruised and bloody, and his heart
contracted. “What have you done to Joe?” he demanded angrily.
“Ah-ah,” Jock chided. “Mind
your manners! Joe and I had a little falling out this morning, Cartwright. I
had to teach him a few lessons. You really should teach him not to cheek his
elders and betters.”
It was on the tip of Ben’s
tongue to retort that Jock might be Joe’s elder, but he certainly wasn’t his
better, but he held his tongue. This was no time to play games. “Let me go to
him,” Ben pleaded.
“No, not yet,” Jock
returned. “How much did you get for your herd?”
Swallowing his rage as best
he could, Ben said, “$10,000.”
“Well, that’s much more
than I expected,” Jock said, delightedly. He nudged Joe, none too gently, with
his foot. “Did you hear that, lad? Your father did real well.” Joe groaned. His
eyes were so swollen he could barely open them more than slits. “Joe doesn’t
seem to be pleased by your success, Cartwright,” Jock went on.
“Take the money, just let
my son go,” Ben ground out.
“There’s been a slight
change of plans, Cartwright,” Jock said, slowly. Ben stared at him, wondering what
was coming. He shot a glance at Joe. “I think I might just have to keep Joe
around for a while. I’m sure you could find another $10,000 to get him back,
couldn’t you? I’d be much more comfortable with $20,000 in my pocket.”
“You animal!” Ben cried, and
threw himself at Jock.
From their hiding place,
Adam and Hoss took that as their signal and leapt into action. Ben was
wrestling with Jock and his men were watching. As the Cartwright brothers
jumped into view, one of them went for his gun, but Hoss was too quick for him
and he fell where he stood before he managed to fire more than one shot.
As Adam and Hoss shot it
out with Jock’s men, Ben and Jock fought furiously. Joe curled up to try and
avoid being stepped on, but it seemed to him that Jock was doing everything he
could to keep Ben close by Joe. Suddenly giving Ben a push, Jock broke free of
the older man’s grip and threw himself on top of Joe. Ben went for him, only to
pull himself up short, for Jock had his gun pressed to Joe’s head.
“I don’t care, Cartwright,”
he panted. “I don’t care if I kill the boy.” He glanced at his men, but they
were all defeated. Adam and Hoss stood frozen, staring in horror at Jock and
Joe.
Slowly, Jock got to his
feet, using the injured boy as a shield. “You all just stay put,” he ordered,
pulling Joe along with him. The nearest saddled horse was Buck, and Jock made
his way towards him. “I’m getting out of here,” he said. “And if any of you
move, I’ll kill the boy.”
Suddenly, Joe’s bound feet
became entangled in some brush, and although Jock pulled, the brush wouldn’t
give up its hold. Distracted, he yanked harder, and Joe groaned. Again, Jock
tugged, and this time, Joe’s feet came free, but with much greater speed than
Jock was expecting. As he tugged, Joe’s weight, slight though it was, knocked
Jock off balance. His gun dropped, and Adam threw himself onto the Scotsman,
bearing both he and Joe to the ground.
For a terrifying instant,
Joe found himself squashed between Adam and Jock, and couldn’t catch his
breath. He struggled to get free, and a moment later, Adam and Jock rolled away
from him, and Joe gulped in a lungful of air.
Turning his head, frantic
with worry for his oldest brother, Joe was in time to see Hoss join in the fray
and knock Jock out with one solid punch. The next moment, Ben loving arms were
round Joe, pulling him gently to a sitting position and taking the gag from his
torn mouth. “Joe!” he exclaimed and gathered the boy into his arms.
****************
That riding was going to be
painful for Joe was obvious. However, Joe himself made no complaints when Ben
helped him onto Buck. His body ached all over, and although there were no
broken bones, Joe was in no fit state to ride alone. Ben had washed the blood
from Joe’s face and had given the boy water. While Adam and Hoss prepared the
bodies to bring back to town with them, Ben had found something for Joe to eat
and he had managed to keep it down.
They only heard Joe’s story
when they got back to
***********************
“Jock was indeed a nasty
piece of work,” Ben muttered, remembering.
“There was one thing I
never quiet understood,” Adam ventured, looking at Joe. “Why did he beat you
up? You didn’t say at the time. You just said that you’d made him angry. What
did you say to him?”
“It wasn’t something I
said,” Joe responded. “He wanted me to say Hoss was stupid, and I wouldn’t.”
“Stubborn little cuss,”
Hoss muttered, proudly. “As if sayin’ it makes it so.”
“I know, but I was furious.
When I wouldn’t say it, and refused to eat the horrid looking eggs he was going
to feed me, he was going to put the gag back in, and I really couldn’t face it.
So I kicked him on the shin.”
“Ouch!” Adam commented,
having had experience of Joe kicking him on the shin.
“That was when he went mad,
and beat me up,” Joe went on. But I couldn’t say that to the sheriff. I was too
embarrassed. It wasn’t my mouth that got me into trouble, but it was still my
temper.” He glanced at Ben. “I wonder what happened to Jock after he got out of
prison.”
“As it happens, I do know,”
Ben replied. “When he was released, the sheriff of
“And?” Adam prompted when
Ben paused. All three pairs of eyes were riveted on his face.
“He went to hold up a bank
and was shot and killed, the very day he was released.” Ben sat back and
enjoyed the looks of surprise on his sons’ faces. He’d seen no need to remind
them of Jock’s existence, when Joe had so successfully put it out of his mind.
He’d been worried when Hoss had brought the subject up again, but Joe had
clearly made peace with his ordeal.
“Sleekit indeed,” he
observed, almost to himself.
Deciding it was time to
change the subject, he glanced at Joe. “So you thought the room might be pink,
huh, son?” he questioned and they all laughed as a flush crept up Joe’s neck.
“It was just a suggestion, Pa,”
he protested.
The End