Wolf in the Fold
By: Rona
“Joe, give me a hand with
this sack, would you please?” Ben Cartwright asked, as he bent over to lift the
sack of potatoes. There was no response, and he straightened up, expecting to
see his youngest son intent on chatting with a young lady. Instead, Joe was
peering down the dusty street, a frown marring his handsome face. “Joseph?” Ben
said, more sharply.
“Hmm?” Joe asked turning
his head. He saw at once that his father looked a little annoyed and hurried
his step to go over and help. “Sorry,
“What was so interesting?”
Ben asked, as they laid the heavy sack onto the back of the buckboard. “Some
new beauty come to town that you haven’t met yet?”
Biting his lip, Joe
hesitated for a moment before replying. Ben eyed Joe. He wondered what on earth
Joe could have seen that had him so upset. Ducking his head, a sure sign of
distress, Joe replied, “I thought I saw Adam.”
For an instant, Ben wasn’t
sure that he’d heard his son correctly, for his voice had been very low.
“Adam?” Ben repeated. “You couldn’t have, Joe.” Ben’s tone was eminently
reasonable. “Adam’s in
“I know that!” Joe flared,
then subsided and shot a repentant look at Ben. “Sorry. I know Adam’s in
Sighing, Ben clapped his
hand onto Joe’s shoulder and squeezed sympathetically. “I know you miss Adam,
son,” he told Joe. “We all do. But I’m afraid that this was just wishful
thinking on your behalf.”
“Maybe,” Joe responded in a
neutral tone. He wasn’t so sure he did miss Adam. Well, he did sometimes, but
he had become used to life on the ranch without his big brother and it seemed
to him that he had been able to keep his temper better since Adam left. He had
more responsibility, yet conversely, more freedom, too.
There wasn’t much Ben could
say. He knew that Joe missed Adam, but he could see that his youngest son had
matured a great deal since his brother had gone. Joe had been schooling himself
not to admit to missing Adam, for the oldest son had written very few letters
since leaving home the previous year. Joe’s sudden distress at the thought of
seeing Adam was because he had been hurt by the silence from his oldest brother
and he wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with Adam’s reappearance, whenever
that happened.
“I’ll finish up in here,”
Ben advised Joe. “Why don’t you go off and meet your friends and I’ll see you
at home later?”
Smiling, Joe’s sullen mood vanished
as quickly as it had come. “Thanks, Pa,” he replied. “I won’t be late, I
promise.”
Nodding knowingly, Ben
laughed. “I won’t hold you to that rash promise,” he responded. “But try to get
home for a few hours sleep.”
“I will,” Joe answered and
giving Ben another smile headed off down the street to the Silver Dollar
saloon, where he was going to spend the evening with his friends.
********************
It was pay day and the
Silver Dollar was busy. Joe wasn’t in the mood to play poker and he shrugged
off the invitation to join the players at the card table. “You sick,
Cartwright?” Dave Williams jibed. “Passing up the chance to win some more
money?”
“I’m just not in the mood,”
Joe replied. His unsettling glimpse of someone like Adam had spoiled his fun
before the evening ever got under way.
“Well, if you ain’t
playin’,” suggested Jeb Turner, “why don’t we go down to that new saloon that’s
opened on
“Why not?” Joe agreed. He
had heard there was a new saloon opening, but he hadn’t had the chance to see
what it was like for himself. Perhaps he would find a distraction there that
would take his mind off his oldest brother.
Dusk was falling as they
headed across to the new saloon. It was called ‘Spit and Polish’ and Joe
decided that the name had to be a joke, for the place looked as though it had
never seen polish in its life! The floors were grubby; the big mirror behind
the bar was mildewed and dirty and the wood in the bar top was scarred.
“I suppose the glasses are
clean,” Joe remarked as he took a swig of his beer. Judging by some of the
patrons, they wouldn’t have been too fussy even if the glasses weren’t clean.
Joe could see a number of the town’s degenerates in there and thought it was
the kind of place that suited them perfectly.
“Ain’t a patch on the
Silver Dollar,” Jeb complained. “The girls ain’t worth writin’ home about.”
“You shouldn’t believe
everything you hear,” Dave returned. He turned a jaundiced eye on the girls,
who certainly weren’t as pretty as the girls at the Silver Dollar.
“Let’s finish this beer and
go back,” Joe suggested and the other two agreed.
As they rose to their feet,
there was a sudden snarl from one of the customers by the bar and a little
saloon girl was knocked flying by a big drunk. Joe caught her, saving her from
a nasty fall. “Are you all right?” he asked and the girl nodded, looking
apprehensively over his shoulder.
Turning to see what she was
looking at, Joe realised that the man who had knocked her down was coming
towards him, and he didn’t look too happy. Joe pushed the girl aside, out of
harms way and prepared to talk himself out of trouble.
“She’s my girl, mister, you
leave her alone,” the man growled.
“I only stopped her from
falling,” Joe replied. “She could’ve hurt herself badly.”
Looming over Joe, the man
didn’t seem appeased. In fact, he seemed even more annoyed. Joe turned his head
slightly to escape the sour alcohol fumes that the man was breathing over him.
That annoyed the man even further. “Look at me when I’m speakin’ to ya, boy!”
“Back off,” Joe told him.
That was the final straw
for the drunk. He punched Joe heavily in the face.
Reeling back, Joe tried to
catch himself on the closest table, but his groping fingers missed the edge and
he crashed to the floor, bouncing off a chair en route. Shaking his head, Joe
scrambled to his feet, his temper well and truly up. He found his opponent standing
over him, but Joe was ready this time. He ducked beneath the next blow,
wondering where his friends had got to and why they weren’t helping him out.
Next moment, Joe realised
that the whole place was in an uproar and his friends were too busy fighting off
other drunks to help him out. He ducked another punch, but his momentary
distraction allowed his opponent to grab Joe’s jacket and reel him in like a
fish. Despite everything he could do, punches were soon raining down on Joe’s
face and stomach.
As he toppled to the floor,
a blow to the back of his neck put Joe out for the count and he didn’t feel the
pain as he once more became entangled with a chair. Around him, the battle
raged for several more minutes, until finally, the barman regained control.
All the fighters were
evicted, the unconscious Joe included. Dave and Jeb were amongst the last to be
thrown out, and by then, Joe had disappeared. “Where’d he go?” Jeb asked.
“That young fella you was
with?” asked one of the other fighters. “His brother come an’ got him. Said
he’d take him home.”
“Don’t he always fall on
his feet?” Dave asked. “C’mon, Jeb, let’s go home.” He wiped the blood from his
nose with his sleeve and made a face. “Sure wish I had a big brother like Hoss
to come take me home!”
********************
“Ain’t Joe home yet?” Hoss
asked, coming in from the barn and collapsing onto the settee with a groan.
“That sure was a long day,
“I know,” Ben replied,
glancing up from his book. “Why don’t you go up to bed, Hoss? I’m sure Joe
won’t be long.”
“That sounds right good,”
Hoss agreed. “You comin’ up soon, Pa? You’ve had a long day, too.”
“Yes, I’ll be up shortly,”
Ben answered vaguely. His attention was straying to his book once more. “I’ll
just finish this chapter…”
Smiling, Hoss got to his
feet and bid his father good night. He knew what Ben was like when he had a new
book, and it was entirely possible that he’d come down in the morning and find
him asleep in the chair by the fire, book clasped in his hand, finished.
About an hour later, Ben
closed his book and put it down. The words were beginning to blur on the pages
and he realised that he ought to get to bed. He was surprised to see that it
was almost
*******************
A hideous jolting sensation
heralded Joe’s return to consciousness. He struggled to make sense of it, but
his breath was knocked from his body with every bump and he found that he
couldn’t open his eyes at all.
After a few minutes, Joe’s
brain finally kicked into gear, and he realised that he was slung, belly down,
over a horse, which was travelling at some speed. This realisation made Joe
attempt to push himself into the correct position for riding, but he discovered
at once that he was tied down, and wouldn’t be getting free any time soon. He
was blindfolded and gagged. Joe swallowed against the sudden dryness in his
mouth. Clearly, he wasn’t alone, and by concentrating, he could hear other hoof
beats pounding the ground.
Who had done this to him
and why? Joe could remember the fight in the saloon, but he thought it unlikely
that the man he’d been fighting had been annoyed enough to kidnap him. So who
was behind it? Someone with a grudge against the family? Joe tried to think if
he or Ben or Hoss had made any enemies recently when bidding for contracts, but
he couldn’t think of anyone.
The journey seemed to go on
forever, and Joe was groaning steadily when the horses finally came to a stand
still. He felt completely pulped, and his limbs were cramping painfully. Still,
when the horse stopped, Joe started to struggle against his bonds, in the hopes
of freeing himself before his kidnapper reached him.
It was a forlorn hope, of
course and Joe knew that, but it wasn’t in his nature to accept captivity
passively. He froze as a hand grasped his chin and forced his head up at an
uncomfortable angle. The gag was ripped from his mouth and a moment later, his
blindfold followed. Joe screwed up his eyes at the sudden light, but when he
opened them again, he couldn’t prevent a gasp escaping his lips.
For a moment, his head
reeled and Joe knew why he thought he’d seen Adam earlier in the day. “Tom,” he
croaked.
His captor, Tom, laughed.
*******************
“It’s been a long time,
Joe,” Tom commented, as he started to untie Joe from the saddle. “Aren’t you pleased
to see me?”
“Not noticeably,” Joe
replied, sourly. “Last time we met, you
tried to rob my home.”
“Last time we met in
person,” Tom corrected, amicably.
“What do you mean?” Joe
gasped, as Tom pushed him from the horse to the ground. He couldn’t stop
himself curling up, trying to relieve the awful ache in his ribs and stomach.
He bit the inside of his lip to stop himself groaning aloud.
“Let me see,” mused Tom, as
he knelt by Joe and untied his feet. “Three years ago, I suppose it would have
been. You met with a series of unfortunate accidents. A rockslide, an
explosion, a tree falling on you and a near drowning.” He ticked them off on
his fingers. “Do you remember now, Joe?”
“That was you!” Joe gasped, temporarily forgetting his discomfort. “But
why?” He tried to resist as Tom dragged him to his feet, but a backhand slap
reminded him that Tom was in charge. “Why are you doing this now?”
Dragging Joe into a small
cave with an earthen floor, Tom threw him face down to the ground and began to
re-tie his feet. “That day at the Ponderosa,” Tom began. “You made my life a
misery.”
“Your life was already
miserable,” Joe taunted him, heedlessly, remembering what Tom had said about
his circumstances.
Kneeling on Joe’s back, Tom
said nothing as he untied then bound Joe’s hands behind him. Joe wheezed and
gasped as the knees in his back caused him more misery. He tried to resist, but
it was hopeless. Tom tightened his bonds cruelly before rising and looking down
on Joe with contempt.
“Let’s get one thing straight
here,” he warned, in a low, cold voice. “I’m in charge and it’s in your own
best interests if you don’t annoy me. Got it?”
Joe kept silent, but Tom
took his silence as assent, for the time being at least. Yanking Joe into a
sitting position, Tom turned away and began to build up the fire. Joe looked
around the cave. There were signs that it had been occupied for some time.
Once the fire was going
again, Tom turned back to Joe. He looked a little more relaxed. “Yes,” he
resumed, as though there hadn’t been a break in the conversation. “You did
something to me that day, Joe. You awoke my conscience.”
“You haven’t got a
conscience,” scoffed Joe. “You beat me up, stole our things and read my
brother’s journals! Some conscience that was!”
“That was then!” Tom spat
back. “But you – you made me think. And I didn’t like myself much. I still
don’t. I haven’t changed, though, so don’t think your moralising worked. I’m
still a wanted murder and bank robber.”
“That doesn’t tell me why
I’m here, or why you tried to kill me,” Joe persisted. He tried to ease his
shoulders, but there was no give in his bonds.
“You made me an offer the
last time we spoke,” Tom went on, calmly. “So I’ve come to take you up on it. I’ve
had a run of poor luck lately and I decided that I’d come and get that ransom
you so generously offered me.”
“Pa won’t pay you,” Joe
informed him, knowing all the time that Ben would. He gazed at Tom, seeing the
changes that the years had wrought on him. He looked more like Adam than ever,
Joe thought, or was that just because he hadn’t seen Adam in such a long time?
That superior smile and the patronising way of talking were Adam to a T.
“Of course he will, Joe,”
Tom told him, condescendingly. “I’ve learned a lot about the Cartwrights over
the years, and I hear that your Papa would move heaven and earth for you boys.
And now I’m told that Saint Adam has gone.”
“I knew it wasn’t Adam I
saw this afternoon,” Joe muttered.
“I was watching you, Joe,”
Tom told him. “Just like last time, people thought I was Adam.” He smiled
wolfishly. “Didn’t anyone mention that they’d seen your brother riding about?”
“No,” Joe grunted,
privately thinking that if he’d seen Tom on a horse, he’d have known at once
that it wasn’t Adam, for his brother had a unique seat on a horse, due to his
bad back.
“I even told someone
tonight that I was your brother, as I scraped you off the sidewalk. You made it
so easy for me, Joe!” Tom laughed. “And now I’m going to pay you back for making
my life a misery.”
Leaning back against the
cave wall, Joe met Tom’s gaze with a level look of his own. “If I awoke your
conscience, Tom,” he said, quietly, “it’s because it wasn’t really asleep. You
proved that to me last time when you told me about yourself and your family.
Your conscience had always been awake - you were just deaf to its voice.”
Glaring at his captive, Tom
suddenly remembered why he had grown to dislike Joe so much. With great
clarity, he remembered Joe telling him that he could still turn himself in,
that it wasn’t too late. What was it about this boy that made him wish he’d
lived his life differently?
“Don’t worry about it,
Joe,” Tom said, harshly. “Your Pa will give me enough that I can live on it for
the rest of my life and not have to rob another bank.”
“And will your conscience
be quiet then?” Joe asked.
Goaded, furious, Tom rose
to his feet and loomed threateningly over Joe, who looked up at him, undaunted.
Tom realised that Joe was no longer a boy, but a man, who was comfortable with
himself. He had been impossible to cow the last time, when he was less mature;
Tom knew he would be equally impossible now.
“Shut up, Joe!” he ordered
and jammed the gag back into his mouth.
Crossing the cave, Tom sat
down in the shadows, but he could still see Joe looking at him pityingly across
the space between them.
******************
It was a dark morning, the
skies heavy with unshed rain. It was on mornings like this that Ben Cartwright found
it hardest to get out of bed. He rose reluctantly and went down for breakfast.
As ever, Hop Sing had the table set and within moments of Ben’s arrival at the
table, the coffee pot appeared and the appetising smell of bacon filled the
air.
Within a few minutes, Hoss
was down, timing his arrival with the platter of bacon arriving on the table.
“Mornin’, Pa,” he greeted, cheerfully. “You didn’ stay up an’ finish that book
last night, did ya?”
Laughing Ben shook his
head. “No, son, just for once I didn’t. I went to bed about
“What time did Joe git in?”
Hoss asked, piling food onto his plate. “I didn’ go in an’ wake him, ‘cos I
figgered you’d done it.”
“I don’t know,” Ben
replied. “He wasn’t in when I went up. I didn’t think to wake him. I’ll go in a
minute.”
They ate in companionable
silence, but when Hop Sing began to mutter under his breath and send pointed
looks at Joe’s empty chair, Hoss took the hint and rose. “I’ll go an’ wake
Little Joe,” he offered and Ben accepted. Waking Joe was never a pleasant task
when he had been out late the night before.
Ben was just pouring
himself a second cup of coffee when Hoss clattered back down stairs. “Back
already?” Ben queried. “That didn’t take… Hoss? What’s wrong?”
“Joe’s bed ain’t bin slept
in,” Hoss told his father. “His clothes ain’t there from yesterday an’ his hat
ain’t hanging up by the door.”
“You don’t suppose he’s
been arrested, do you?” Ben asked, trying not to think that something bad had
happened to Joe, and failing.
“Could be, Pa,” Hoss
agreed, for he, too, didn’t want to think that something had happened to Joe.
“I’ll go into town and see
Roy Coffee,” Ben suggested, pretending that he wasn‘t concerned. He hurried
over to strap on his gun belt. Hoss was at his back.
“I’m comin’, too,” he
declared. “If’n somethin’s happened to Joe, I want ta be with ya,
“Thanks, son,” Ben
whispered. He patted Hoss’ arm blindly. “Let’s go.”
**********************
The ride into town seemed interminable
to them both. The rain began when they were less than half way there and by the
time they arrived at the sheriff’s office, they were soaked. Neither man really
noticed. They dismounted and climbed the steps, opening the door to the office
and going inside.
“Howdy, Ben,” Roy Coffee,
the sheriff and a long-time friend cried as they went in. “What brings you here
on such a foul day?”
Those words told Ben that
his worst fears had been realised. He groped for a chair and sat heavily. Hoss
hitched a hip onto the desk and dropped his head. Water poured from his hat
onto the floor, but he was too miserable to notice.
“What is it?”
“Joe didn’t come home last
night,” Ben reported, in a low voice. “We thought he might be here.”
“No, I ain’t seen him in a
couple a days,”
“Where can he be?” Ben
whispered.
“He wouldn’t a stayed at
some friend’s place?”
“No, I never thought of
that,” replied Ben, looking slightly less worried.
“I’ll do it, Pa,” Hoss
offered and headed out of the door. Ben watched him go, knowing that Hoss was
as worried as he was.
“I’m not even sure who he
was meeting last night,” Ben admitted to
“I’m sure Joe’s fine,”
“I hope so,” agreed Ben. “I
hope so.”
But when he heard Hoss’
steps outside a few minutes later, Ben knew that the news wasn’t good. And when
the door opened to admit his middle son, it only took one look at his face to
know that trouble had caught up with Joe once more.
*****************
“Pete says someone
collected Cochise about 9.30?” Ben persisted.
“Well, he ain’t too sure, Pa,
cos he’d stepped out for a few minutes,” Hoss told him. “but when he got back
jist after 9.30, Cochise was gone an’ the money was lyin’ on his book.”
“We’d better go looking,”
Ben suggested to Hoss and rose.
“I’m comin’ with ya,”
Their first port of call
was the Silver Dollar. Bruno, the barman, was sweeping up, looking tired. “Sure
Joe was in here for a while,” he said, when asked. “He was with Dave and Jeb.
Joe wasn’t playing poker and they didn’t stay more than an hour. Don’t know where
they went, though.”
Perplexed, they began
trailing from saloon to saloon, and came up with nothing. “We ain’t tried that
new place, yet,” Hoss commented morosely. “Reckon he might a gone there?”
“We might as well try,” Ben
agreed and they headed over.
The barman there had
clearly just surfaced and let them in with bad grace. There were over turned
tables and chairs all over the place and broken glass. “Looks like it was quite
a night,”
“I handled it,” the man
returned.
“Did you see a young man in
here, about this height,” Ben indicated with his hand, “curly hair, green eyes,
wearing tan pants and a green jacket?”
“Oh him,” sneered the
barman. “He got into the first fight. Next thing I knew, everyone was at it. I
threw them out.”
“Where did the young man
go?” Ben persisted.
Shrugging the barman began
to pick up chairs. “I dunno. He was still out cold when I threw him out.”
“Out cold?” Ben echoed,
feeling a cold hand grab his heart. He suddenly wondered if Joe had managed to
get part way home before feeling ill and losing his way. Perhaps he’d had a bad
fall.
“Let’s find Dave an’ Jeb,”
suggested Hoss. “Maybe they took Joe back with them.” Both of Joe’s friends
lived in a nearby boarding house.
As they walked over to the boarding
house
Showing them into the
parlour, she went off to get them and a few minutes later, they appeared in the
doorway, yawning and unshaven. “Hello, Mr Cartwright,” Dave said. “Hoss,
Sheriff.”
“I need to ask you about
last night,” Ben began.
“Oh shoot, it weren’t Joe’s
doing, that fight,” Jeb butted in. “He were the innocent victim, I swear.”
“I’m glad to hear that,”
replied Ben. “But what happened after the fight? When you were thrown out?
Where did you take Joe? To the doctor’s?” He wondered why he hadn’t thought of
looking for Joe at the doctor’s office.
“No,” Dave responded,
frowning. “Why, Hoss here took him home. Didn’t cha, Hoss?”
“Joe never arrived home,”
Ben told them. “Why did you think Hoss had taken him?”
“Well, this feller, he said
that Joe’s brother had come an’ taken him home. What other brother does Joe
have but Hoss?”
Exchanging glances with
Hoss, Ben remembered that Joe hadn’t known Dave and Jeb all that long, as they
were newcomers to town, arriving just a few short months before. They probably
wouldn’t know about Adam, as Joe seldom mentioned him. But it hadn’t been Hoss
who took Joe away.
His mouth suddenly dry, Ben
muttered, “Joe said yesterday that he thought he’d seen Adam in the street.”
“You don’ think…” Hoss
began. His voice was hoarse and he looked stunned and white. “Pa, you don’t
think it was…” Again, he couldn’t go on.
“Who?”
“Yes, Adam’s in
“Tom?”
Dave and Jeb looked at one
another, not having a clue what the Cartwrights were talking about.
“Tom is back,” Ben
whispered. “And this time he’s got Joe.”
*********************
The night had been long and
cold for Joe. The fire kept the worst chill out of the air, but Joe wished
fervently that he had a bedroll, too. For a long time after Tom fell asleep,
Joe rubbed his bound hands up and down the rough stone wall behind him, but he
couldn’t keep the movement up as the cold crept into his muscles. There didn’t
seem to be any give at all in the ropes, but Joe was determined to keep trying.
He fell asleep sitting up,
his exhaustion finally catching up with him, and he woke, stiff and cold, many
hours later, haven fallen sideways onto the earthen floor with a thud. From
across the cave, Tom was looking at him with sleepy amusement and Joe struggled
hopelessly to right himself. Eventually, he slept again, though his dreams were
peopled with dark, menacing shadows.
When Joe woke again,
shortly after dawn, he could feel the dampness from the rain outside permeating
the air in the cave. He shivered slightly and watched Tom building up the fire.
Once more, he tried to lever himself into a sitting position, but the stiffness
of his muscles defeated him. He bit deeply into the gag to muffle any groans of
frustration that might escape his control.
Finally, Tom came over and
yanked Joe to a sitting position and removed the gag. “You want something to
eat?” he asked and Joe nodded, swallowing to try and relieve the dryness in his
mouth. He had to keep his strength up if he was going to make an escape
attempt.
The beans that Tom fed him
were clearly on their second or third reheating and were not what Joe would
have chosen for breakfast, but he ate them without complaint. The coffee was
good and between that and the food, Joe could feel a little warmth spreading
inside him.
“I gotta go out for a bit,
Joe,” Tom told him, as he came back from washing the plates. Joe had once more
been rubbing the ropes against the walls, and Tom saw at once what he was
doing. Kneeling by his captive, Tom hauled him forwards to check the ropes. To
his satisfaction, they were still tight and not fraying. “But since I can’t
trust you not to try to escape, I’m going to have to leave you somewhat
uncomfortable, I’m afraid.”
“I’m still going to try to
escape,” Joe warmed him. “No matter what you do to me.”
“I quite believe you, Joe,”
Tom nodded. “Look what you did to yourself last time. What was it, dislocated
shoulder?”
“Broken collarbone,” Joe
muttered. He wondered why he was telling Tom this.
“That’s what heroics do to
you,” Tom gloated.
“You’re going to deliver
the ransom note to my Pa, aren’t you?” Joe demanded and saw the cynical smile
on Tom’s face as he nodded his agreement. “You are scum!”
“Perhaps,” Tom agreed, in
an oddly quiet voice. “But with one of his sons gone, will your father want to
risk losing another son?”
It was an argument Joe couldn’t
refute. He knew his father would beggar himself on behalf of any of his sons
and not count the cost. But Joe wondered if he could live with himself if his
father did that. Somehow, he had to get away, and before Pa could pay as much
as one red cent of the ransom.
“How much do you think
you’ll get for me?” he asked.
“I don’t think $20,000 is
out of the question,” Tom replied.
“We don’t have that kind of
money,” Joe responded. “You’ll wait forever if that’s what you want.”
Smiling cynically, Tom shook
his head. “Good try, Joe,” he commented. “But, if you’re right, then we’ll grow
old together while I wait for your father to make good the money.”
“I’m telling you, Pa
doesn’t have that kind of money,” Joe insisted.
“Oh shut up, Joe!” Tom
snapped and shoved him roughly over till he was lying on his stomach. Grabbing
up another length of rope, Tom swiftly hogtied Joe so that he couldn’t move and
put the gag back in. “I’ll be back later,” he advised his helpless captive.
“Once I’ve delivered the ransom note for $20,000!”
******************
The wet weather was tailor
made for Tom’s nefarious purpose that day. He encountered no one as he rode
from his hide-out the 20 odd miles to the ranch. Anyone who didn’t have to be
out on such a foul day was sensibly staying indoors, although Tom was confident
that in his all-black outfit, he would be mistaken for Adam Cartwright once
more.
On his previous sojourn to
the territory, Tom had intended, once he’d made Joe’s life enough of a misery,
to take Joe hostage and hold him for ransom then. His plans had been changed
dramatically by the return of Adam. There was always a chance then that he’d
meet the ‘real’ Adam, as had happened on his first encounter with Joe, and that
would spoil his plan completely.
Tom had drifted for some
time after leaving
The yard of the ranch was
deserted and Tom watched for quite some time to make sure there wasn’t anyone
lurking in the barn or bunkhouse. He slunk down to the house under cover of the
undergrowth, uncaring that he got soaked in the process. He shoved the ransom
note under the door and left the way he had come, unnoticed. The temptation to
break in and ransack the place once more was almost overwhelming, but Tom knew
he would get more money sticking to his original plan.
Riding back the way he had
come, Tom smiled to himself. He would get his reply the next day, and then Ben
Cartwright would have just two days to come up with the money, or he would send
Ben a bit of Joe in a box, just to prove he was serious. Would it be an ear,
perhaps? Or a finger? Tom nodded. This was going just the way he’d planned.
*********************
By the time Tom arrived back,
the afternoon was well advanced. Joe was still on the floor, more or less where
Tom had left him. The suffering green eyes that Joe turned on him gave Tom a
great deal of amusement.
It had been an horrendously
long day for Joe alone in the cave, bound the way he was. He had struggled
mightily against the ropes, but had failed to move them one bit. He had managed
to get a little closer to the fire, by dint of a huge effort, but not for
warmth, although that was welcome. No, he’d hoped to set fire to the ropes,
thereby setting himself free, no matter the cost to himself in pain. But
despite his struggles, all Joe had done was burn one hand.
When Tom returned, Joe was
exhausted, but unable to rest because of the agonising cramps in his limbs. For
an unguarded instant, Joe had let Tom see his pain, but then the barriers went
up and he sent Tom a look of contempt.
Ignoring Joe, Tom first
built up the fire, and changed out of his soaking clothes. Only then, having
made the point that he was in charge, did he untie the rope between Joe’s hands
and ankles. As his body flopped open, Joe was unable to bite back the groan of
pain that the movement caused him. He curled up involuntarily as Tom removed
the gag.
The pain was incredible as
the blood began to pump round his veins again. Joe could do nothing but lie
there and suffer as muscles spasms caused his limbs to jump uselessly against
their bonds. He was deaf to the small sounds of distress that he made.
Finally, after what felt
like years to Joe, but had been ‘only’ hours, the pain died back to a dull ache
and Joe was able to focus on his surroundings once more. He was surprised to
catch a sympathetic look in Toms’ eyes. “That was tough, huh?” he asked.
“As if you care,” Joe
ground out. “In case you’d forgotten, it was you who put me in that position.”
“I can’t afford for you to
run away,” Tom reminded him. “But I’ll try to think of something else for
tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Joe repeated.
He winced as he made an unwise movement with his head.
“Tomorrow, I find out your
father’s response to the note I delivered to him today,” Tom informed him. “See
if he’s going to pay up without me having to hurt you a lot.”
“You know every despicable
trick,” Joe replied, bitterly. “Hurt me if you must, but will you be able to
live with yourself after you’ve done it?”
“I expect $20,000 will help
ease the pain,” Tom retorted and got up and walked away.
Joe watched him go, then
closed his eyes in despair. He knew that Ben would pay up, and he hated to
think of how his father would feel when he read the ransom note. Despite the
pain he felt, Joe vowed that he would somehow manage to escape.
*********************
There had been no
conversation on the ride back to the Ponderosa. When they reached home, they handed
their horses over to the hands, and went inside. As the door opened, Ben
spotted the paper on the floor and bent over to retrieve it. “What’s this?” he
asked.
“Dunno,” Hoss responded,
peering over Ben’s shoulder.
I have your son, Joe.
If you want to see him again, then do exactly as this letter tells you.
Tomorrow, go to Forge Creek crossroads at
The note, not surprisingly,
was unsigned. Hoss looked anxiously at his father’s face. “Joe’s alive,” he
pointed out, seeing the horror on Ben’s face.
“For now,” Ben agreed. He
walked on stiff legs over to his chair in front of the fire and collapsed into
it. “How am I going to find $20,000?” he asked.
“Tomorrow mornin’, you go
into the bank,” Hoss told him. “They’ll help, Pa, I know they will.”
“Of course,” Ben responded.
“I wasn’t thinking, son. I’ll leave the money at the crossroads on the way
back.” He looked up at Hoss, who had a thoughtful look on his face. “What?” he
asked.
“I reckon that tonight,
after dark, I’ll jist mosey on down to the Forge Creek crossroads and hide
myself, so’s I’m ready to follow whoever comes for the money.”
“Hoss,” Ben protested, but
Hoss held up his hand.
“Pa, I gotta do this,” he
said, earnestly. “Joe’s in trouble, an’ we cain’t leave him for another two
days! We don’ know much about Tom, but we do know he’d hurt Joe if he tried to
escape. I gotta follow Tom an’ rescue Joe.”
Sighing, for he knew that
Hoss was set on doing this regardless of how he felt about it, Ben nodded. “All
right, son,” he agreed, reluctantly. “But you be careful, you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” Hoss mumbled.
He was pleased that Ben hadn’t forbidden him to do it, as Hoss had intended to
go ahead anyway, but now that he had his father’s blessing, he was suddenly
terrified that he would somehow mess it up, and be the cause of more pain and
suffering to his little brother. Giving Ben an unconvincing smile, Hoss sent up
a prayer that his quest would be successful.
******************
The wind changed direction
as darkness fell and soon the rain was blowing into the cave. Tom was forced to
retreat further into the small space, reluctantly dragging Joe with him. It was
only then that he became aware that his captive’s clothes were already damp
from the natural dampness of the cave.
“Don’t get sick on me,” he
threatened and Joe looked at him with poorly disguised amusement.
“Lord forbid that I should
disoblige you by getting sick,” he retorted, scornfully. He did feel a bit
shivery, but put it down to his unaccustomed inactivity.
“Don’t get smart, boy,” Tom
responded.
“Well, I’d hate to foul up
your plans for me,” Joe shot back. “After all, you wouldn’t want to feel any
compassion for me, would you?” He smiled scornfully. “Oh I forgot; you’re the
hard man who doesn’t allow feelings to stop him, aren’t you?”
“Shut up, Joe,” Tom warned.
“Why?” Joe asked. “Am I
making you feel bad? Why would that be? Is your conscience bothering you, Tom?”
“Shut up!” Tom yelled,
backhanding Joe heavily across the face. Panting, he looked down at his
bleeding captive and realised that Joe had somehow gained the upper hand in
that exchange. “Don’t push me, Joe,” he threatened quietly. “Or your father
might just get that piece of you sooner than he expects.” His knife was in his
hand in a second and he was gratified to see Joe’s eyes flick to it.
“Do what you feel you have
to,” Joe told him, calmly. He schooled his face to impassivity as Tom placed
the edge of the knife under his chin. He remembered Tom doing this the last
time they had met. There was a sharp prick and a trickle of warmth ran down
Joe’s neck. He knew what it was. He met Tom’s eyes and their gazes locked, but
it was Joe who eventually looked away first.
*******************
The rain stopped during the
night, for which Hoss was thankful. He had been camped out by the crossroads
since shortly after dark, and with no fire to keep him warm, he slept very
little. Although the temperature didn’t rise when the rain stopped, it felt
less cold and Hoss was grateful for any help with this vigil.
Quite early in the morning,
he saw his father riding to town. Ben kept his eyes on the road, not allowing
himself the luxury of looking around, just in case he gave away his son’s
hiding position, although he had no idea where Hoss was. Chubb, Hoss’ big black
horse, was tethered some distance away to prevent him neighing.
Sometime before
*******************
“I’m leaving,” Tom told Joe
and picked up the rope he had used the day before and headed for his captive.
Joe reacted instinctively; he did not want to be hogtied again. His abused
muscles had barely recovered from the previous day.
Kicking out frantically,
Joe caught Tom unawares. He staggered back as Joe squirmed his way across the
floor in a desperate, futile attempt to escape.
Catching himself, Tom
lunged after Joe, furious that he’d been caught out. “Come here!” he bellowed.
“No!” Joe panted, kicking once
more, but this time Tom was ready for him. Reaching down, he snagged the front
of Joe’s jacket and hauled him semi-upright. He slammed his fist into Joe’s
stomach twice before dropping him to the ground. Again, he hauled his captive
upright and back handed him, the rope he held loosely in his hand whipping
across Joe’s face.
While Joe lay groaning on
the ground, Tom knelt and bound his ankles and wrist together, as he had done
the previous day. Looking at Joe’s bleeding face, he felt a pang of pity, which
he ruthlessly subdued before shoving the gag into Joe’s torn and bleeding
mouth.
Pulling Joe’s head up by
the hair, Tom gazed deep into his eyes. “I almost hope your old man hasn’t got
the money, Cartwright,” he snarled. “Because right now I would very much enjoy
cutting off one of your ears!” He dropped Joe and stormed out.
********************
Moving was almost
impossible, for Joe’s muscles had begun to cramp up the moment he was hogtied,
but he relentlessly pushed himself to get over beside the dying embers of the
fire. After much wrestling, he finally was able to flip over onto his side.
Heedless of the pain it would cause, Joe thrust his feet into the fire.
His boots were smouldering
when the ropes finally burnt through and snapped. By then, Joe had been
screaming into his gag for quite some time, but he refused to give up. As his
body flopped open, Joe forced himself to bang his feet off the floor, stamping
out the embryonic flames. Once that was done, he rested, exhausted.
For quite a long time, the
pain was almost more than Joe could bear. The ropes round his feet hadn’t quite
burned through and he knew he would have to struggle on some more. Biting deep
into the gag, Joe tried to force his feet apart, knowing that would strain the
singed ropes. It took a long time, but finally the strands parted and Joe’s
feet were free.
Sagging back, Joe leant
against the cave wall and allowed his breathing to return to normal. He wanted
his hands free too, but one glance at the fire told him that it had burned out.
So be it, he thought. I can deal with this. He turned his head and rubbed it against the stone
walls of the cave to loosen his gag. It came off in the end and Joe drew in a
deep draught of air.
Joe had no idea how long
Tom had been gone, or how soon he’d be back. Scrambling to his feet, Joe cried
aloud at the pain, but he resolutely refused to let that stop him from
escaping. Limping painfully, he went to the cave entrance and looked around.
There was no immediate sign
of Cochise, although quite how Joe would have mounted the horse even if he had
found him right there was anyone’s guess, Joe’s included. However, although he
didn’t know exactly where he was, he could take a fair guess, and turned in the
direction of home.
********************
Forge Creek crossroads were
much closer to Tom’s hideout than the Ponderosa and it took him less time to
ride there. He looked around before he approached the bag on the ground, but he
didn’t see anyone. Dismounting, he picked up the bag and glanced inside it.
There was $100 in it. Tom grinned. He’d known all along that Ben Cartwright
wouldn’t balk at paying the ransom.
After another careful look
around, Tom remounted and turned his horse back the way he had come. He could
use some more supplies, but decided it could wait for the next day, when he
would be a rich man. Joe would survive on short rations. For all he had eaten
at his last two meals, Tom was surprised that Joe survived at all.
Hidden in the brush, Hoss watched
Tom intently until he was out of sight. Scrambling to his feet, Hoss hurried to
where he had left Chubb, mounted and headed off after Tom. It took him no time
at all to pick up the other’s trail and he rode along it as fast as he dared
******************
Stumbling along, Joe was
caught unprepared as his feet went out from underneath him as he stood on a
loose stone. He crashed to the ground, unable to catch himself and lay there,
panting, wondering if he could possibly get to his feet yet again. This wasn’t
the first time he’d fallen and he doubted if it would be the last. His boots,
badly singed in the fire, were now falling apart and his feet, in addition to
the burns, were being cut by the stones under foot.
“Get up!” he told himself
aloud. “Get up! You don’t want Pa to pay that ransom, do you?” He struggled
into a sitting position, resting there for a few minutes before he climbed onto
his feet.
He had just gained his feet
when he heard hoof beats and a surge of adrenaline shot through his system.
Tom! It was bound to be Tom coming back! The trail that Joe was on was little
more than a deer track. It was clearly not widely used and it was unlikely to
be an innocent passer-by. Hurrying, Joe scrambled for cover.
He was too late. Tom came
into view before Joe had reached sanctuary and let out a shout. “Hold it!”
Risking a glance over his
shoulder, Joe almost slipped off the trail. Below him were bushes and scrubby
trees no more than a few feet high, and below them was a drop into the
In an instant, Tom was off
his horse and charging across the clearing at Joe, who had no chance to protect
himself. Tom grabbed him, punched him several times in the stomach and then
hauled him upright by the collar of his jacket. Tom had his knife drawn.
“Damn you, Cartwright!” he
swore. “Everything’s gone wrong since I met you, but I won’t let you ruin this!
I’m gonna make you pay! Your father’s gonna get a memento and you’re gonna
remember who’s in charge here!”
“Go on, do your worst!” Joe
taunted. “Nothing’s gone right since you met me? Ask yourself why, Tom. Go on!
Could it be because you really don’t want to live like this any more? You want
to turn yourself in and have the chance to go back to your family. You’re
jealous of me, because my family love me enough to beggar themselves for me!
You’re jealous of Adam, because even though he’s gone, we still care about him.
We care about him more than anyone’s ever cared for you!” Joe saw that his
taunts had hit home, but he also knew that he was about to pay for them.
“I hate you!” Tom screamed.
“I’m going to enjoy this!” He raised his knife and placed it on top of Joe’s
right ear. The blade began to bite into the cartilage and for a moment Joe felt
no pain. Then the blood began to flow and he screamed as the agony drove his
wits asunder.
From somewhere behind Tom,
there was an enraged bellow, and for a second, Joe thought that a grizzly bear
had happened upon them. Then Tom was dragged away from Joe, the knife sliding
down his cheek, leaving a thin, burning line of red behind it, and Joe slumped
down, all but unconscious.
Hoss, angrier than he had
ever been before, dragged Tom away from Joe and hit him in the face. Tom looked
stunned, but he tried to fight back, bringing the knife up in a futile attempt
to protect himself. Contemptuously, Hoss hammered his fist down on Tom’s wrist
and the knife dropped from his deadened fingers to the ground.
Frantically, Tom threw a
punch with his left hand, but it glanced off Hoss’ cheek without making any
impression on the enraged bigger man. Hoss was shaken by Tom’s resemblance to
Adam, and he felt almost as though it was his brother, who had suddenly gone
mad and tried to kill Joe.
Lifting his head, Joe saw
Hoss beating the living daylights out of Tom. “Hoss, no!” he cried and tried to
get to his feet. The last thing he wanted was Hoss beating anyone to death on
his behalf. “Hoss!” he cried again, trying to get to his feet, but failing.
But Joe’s voice had penetrated
the haze of anger that had fallen over Hoss’ mind. He gave Tom one last punch
and looked let go of him. Tom reeled backwards and fell into the brush. Hoss
made a grab for him, but missed. Tom screamed as he tumbled down the slope and
fell into the river with a resounding splash.
For a frozen instant, Hoss
stood there, just looking, then his shoulders slumped and he turned to Joe. “I
didn’ mean to do that,” he croaked miserably.
“I know,” Joe panted. He
suddenly felt shivery and sick and his ear began to throb violently. He leant heavily against the nearest tree,
his head spinning.
Moments later, Hoss was
beside him, gently cutting his hands free and rubbing the life back into them.
“Joe,” Hoss whispered. “Joe, I’m so glad ta see ya.”
Lifting his head and
managing a smile, Joe croaked, “Not half as glad as I am to see you, big
brother!”
*******************
After a time, Joe persuaded
Hoss to go and find Cochise, which didn’t take as long as he had expected. But
somehow, Joe didn’t think he could have brought himself to
“Pa!” Hoss called, as they
entered the yard. “Pa!”
The front door opened and
Ben rushed out. He saw Joe slumped in the saddle in front of Hoss and hurried
over to take his youngest son into his arms, even as Joe protested in a whisper
that he could walk. “Get the doctor,” Ben told Hoss and the other son nodded,
sending one of the hands.
Inside, Ben was carrying
Joe upstairs and Hoss followed, after telling Hop Sing to bring some warm water
up. He arrived in Joe’s room in time to help Ben pull off the singed boots.
Joe, mercifully, passed out at that point and so they were able to strip off
his filthy clothing without causing him any more pain. When Joe roused again,
Ben was gently washing the blood off his face with a damp cloth.
“Welcome home,” Ben said,
his voice filled with emotion.
Joe’s eyes filled with
tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to cost you so much.”
“I paid no more than $100,
son,” Ben told him gently. “And I would have paid all $20,000 to get you home
safe.” He smiled though the tears that
were standing in his eyes. “It’s so good to have you back.”
“It’s so good to be back,”
Joe replied.
************************
The gash along Joe’s ear
would require several stitches to correct, as would the cut on his cheek. Paul
diagnosed broken ribs, and the burnt feet and hand would also need treatment. The
rope burns on Joe’s wrists weren’t good, but they were minor compared to
everything else. The ether mask came out and Joe was soon deep in a drugged
sleep, while Paul tended to his injuries.
“Any deeper, and Joe might
have lost that ear,” Paul confided to Ben, while Hoss was out of the room and
Joe still unconscious. “Has he told you what happened yet?”
“No,” Ben replied, shaken.
“
“You know for sure it was
Tom, then?” Paul asked, tying off the bandage that swathed Joe’s head.
“Yes,” Ben replied. “Hoss
fought with him.” He shuddered. “I hope we’ve seen the last of him this time.”
Reaching across, Paul squeezed Ben’s arm sympathetically.
******************
By the time Roy Coffee
arrived at the ranch, Joe was awake and gingerly eating some soup that Hop Sing
had brought up for him. He hadn’t felt very hungry, but both Paul and Ben had
insisted that he try to eat and he was rather surprised that he was managing to
get anything down at all.
“I alerted the towns that
lie downriver from here, Ben,”
“I woulda killed him if’n
it weren’t for Joe,” Hoss muttered.
“Don’t fret none ‘bout
that, son,”
“You saved my life, Hoss,”
Joe told him, sleepily from the bed. “And I can’t thank you enough. You saved
Pa from having to pay that ransom.”
Smiling lovingly at both
his boys, Ben patted Hoss on the shoulder before stroking Joe’s hair again.
“You boys mean everything to me,” he told them, huskily. “I’d pay any amount of
money to have you safe.”
Clearing his throat, Paul
rose.
As Hoss showed Paul and Roy
out, Ben tucked Joe in and made sure he was comfortable. “Pa,” Joe said,
sleepily. “It was weird seeing Tom again. You know, he’s so like Adam. To look
at I mean, and the way he talks sometimes, all superior. But do you know what
he reminded me of most?”
“What’s that?” Ben asked
“Like a wolf in the fold,”
Joe replied. “Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, pretending to be Adam again, but
not realising that they are so different that he could never pass himself off
as Adm for more than a few minutes at a time.” He paused and gazed at Ben
through glazed green eyes. “Do you think he’s dead?”
“Yes,” Ben replied. He sat
with Joe until his son was deeply asleep, then he rose and looked out of the
window. That was where he was when Hoss came looking for him some time later.
“Pa?” he whispered. “Hop
Sing says supper’s ready.”
Following Hoss downstairs,
Ben was silent. He sat at the table and looked without interest at the food
placed before him.
“What’s wrong, Pa?” Hoss
asked. “Ya ain’t mad at me for what I done to Tom, are ya?”
“No, son,” Ben assured him.
“No, I’m not mad at you.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Hoss
asked, perplexed. “It ain’t Joe is it?”
“No, Joe will be fine in
time. But it was something that Joe said.” Ben looked at Hoss. “He asked me if
I thought Tom was dead.”
“What did you say?” Hoss
wanted to know.
“I said yes,” Ben replied.
He raised his eyes to meet Hoss’. “But I lied,” he added.
The End
Special thanks and much
love must go to my sister Claire once more for help with the title.