Behind the Picture
By: Rona Y.
“We can get rid of him,
Cartwright,” the man cajoled. “It would be easy, an’ ya c’n watch if’n ya
like.”
“What are you talking about?”
Adam asked, frowning. He had never been keen on Dick Riddle and his gang and he
had no idea what they were talking about. Get rid of whom?
Dick grinned, showing
rotting, gappy teeth. It was all Adam could do not to back away from him. “Yer
brother,” Dick said, as though that was self-evident. “We c’n get rid o’ him.”
Biting back his impatience,
Adam asked, “Which brother do you think I want rid of?” How he wished he had
gone straight home instead of calling into the saloon first. Then he would be
being spared this incomprehensible inquisition.
“Joe, o’ course,” Dick
replied, still grinning. “Ya c’n watch, Adam.”
Furiously angry now, Adam
demanded, “What makes you think I want rid of him? I don’t! Joe’s my brother!”
“That ain’t how it looked
ta us earlier,” Sid Sutter whispered. “When ya was chokin’ the life outa him
down at the corral.”
Gazing open-mouthed at the
men, Adam wondered how many other people had misconstrued what he had done at
the corral a few short hours before.
**************************
“He’s a looker, all right,
Ben,” admitted Kyle McKenzie reluctantly. “But that’s all ya can say for him.
He’s as mean as they come. One minute he’s lettin’ ya pet his neck, the next
he’s taken a chunk out o’ ya!”
Studying the big bay stallion,
Ben nodded. “I don’t like working with a horse as unpredictable as that,” he
muttered. “Has anyone tried to break him, do you know?”
“Tried, but not succeeded,”
McKenzie admitted. The two men were standing outside the corral watching the
horse within. Adam, Joe and Hoss were perched on the fence, also watching the
horse. Several other people were there, too, attracted by the Cartwrights’
interest in the horse. “Most likely ya wouldn’t be able to work him.”
“Well…” Ben hesitated. He
was impressed with the horse’s looks, but he didn’t want the risk of passing on
that temper to his working stock. He wondered how best to refuse to buy the
animal.
Before he could decide, Joe
slipped from the rails of the corral and approached the stallion. Ben caught
his breath, biting his lip to stop him shouting out Joe’s name. His youngest
son was fearless around horses and was very skilled in handling them.
Slowly, Joe approached the
big horse, one hand stretched out invitingly towards it. He spoke softly,
mostly nonsense, as he drew nearer. “Easy, fella. That’s a good boy. You sure
are a pretty one, aren’t you? That’s a boy, let’s see you now.” As Joe reached
the stallion, it suddenly decided that it wasn’t going to be nice to Joe after
all. It pinned its ears back and lunged at the young cowboy.
Seeing the move, Joe
ducked. The raking teeth barely missed his back. Joe hastily backed off,
keeping his eye on the horse the whole time. After a few steps, convinced that
the horse was not going to follow and attack, Joe turned round and hurried back
to the corral rails.
“Joe!” The cry of warning
alerted Joe to the fact the horse was coming after him once more. He didn’t
take the second it needed to look back; he just ran. Moments later, he was
swinging himself up onto the rails close beside Adam and Hoss.
“Phew! That was close,” he
admitted airily as the horse, frustrated, skidded to a stop below him and
snorted angrily. He swung both legs round so that he was seated on the top rail
of the corral, with both legs inside the corral.
“Too close!” Adam scolded,
but Joe knew it was mostly relief that caused his older brother to sound so
angry.
Giving Adam an insouciant
grin, Joe was caught by surprise as the stallion’s back feet thudded violently
into the fence just inches from where Joe’s legs rested on a lower rail. The
whole fence shook, and Joe’s seat on the rail proved to be a lot more
precarious than he had expected as the rail moved under the sudden blow and Joe
found himself slipping down into the corral, beneath the bay stallion’s feet!
“Joe!” Ben bellowed, and
made a move towards him, knowing that there was no way he could get there soon
enough.
It was Adam who reacted
quickest. He reached down and grabbed Joe by his shirt collar, yanking his
startled brother upwards. Joe choked as the material tightened around his
throat, but that was the least of his worries a moment later. His shirt was
sliding up over his head.
Realising the same thing,
Adam hastily sought another hold as Hoss reached down to grasp Joe’s arm and
help his older brother haul his younger brother to safety. It was only as they
got Joe out of the horse’s reach that Adam realised that his arm was tightly
around his brother’s throat and Joe was choking!
It took Hoss only seconds to
drag Joe over the rail and they dropped him carefully into Ben’s waiting arms.
Ben lowered Joe to the ground, checking him over visually to make sure his son
was not injured in any way.
“Joe, are you all right?”
Adam asked kneeling by his brother, his face ashen with worry over the harm he
could have caused.
Still gasping for breath,
Joe nodded. He put his hand on Adam’s arm and panted out one word. “Thanks.”
*************************
Staring at Dick Riddle,
Adam wondered in despair how many other people had seen his rescue of Joe and
misconstrued what had happened. He knew there was no way he could ever make
Dick believe the truth, because the truth didn’t fit Dick’s ideas about the
Cartwrights. How many other people would believe that he had tried to strangle
Joe? How many people would believe that he had tried to drop Joe into the
corral with the wild stallion? Too many, Adam knew. Their friends wouldn’t
believe such gossip, but their enemies would make the most of it.
Turning abruptly on his heel,
Adam left the saloon. He suddenly had to see Joe; to be sure that Joe
understood that it was only misfortune that had caused Adam to catch his
brother by the throat. Joe had thanked Adam for saving his life at the time,
but had he truly understood that it was an accident? Adam felt a hot pang of
guilt flush his face as he remember the comments after he had accidentally shot
Joe when out hunting for a wolf. How many people had implied that it was
deliberate? Too many.
Looking down the street,
Adam saw that his family’s horses were gone and he set off for home, urging his
chestnut gelding to a fast pace for some time before his demons had quieted
enough to allow him to ride at a moderate pace. Nobody would believe Dick
Riddle, he consoled himself. The man was as shiftless as the day was long and
his idle gossip was ignored by most. But, Adam couldn’t quite still the little
voice that suggested that enough people would believe Dick, simply because they
wanted to believe something bad of the Cartwrights.
Arriving home, Adam
dismounted and led Sport into the barn. He unsaddled with more haste than usual
and gave his mount a very cursory brush down. Throwing the brush aside, he
started towards the door.
“What’s the matter, Adam?”
enquired a lazy voice from the hayloft. “You desperate to reach the outhouse?
Plenty of bushes and trees along the road, you know.”
Glancing up, Adam saw Joe’s
face peering down at him, alight with laughter. “It was you I wanted to talk
to, as it happens,” he replied, calming down slightly. “Are you all right? What
are you doing up there?”
“I’m perfectly fine,
thanks,” Joe replied. “And I came up here to get a bit of peace from Pa, who
was fussing.” Joe swung himself agilely over the edge of the loft and climbed
down the ladder. “Why? Were you worried?”
“A bit,” Adam replied,
putting his arm around Joe’s shoulders in a rare show of affection. “Come into
the house and I’ll tell you why.”
As they walked across the
yard, Adam’s fears vanished. Joe would not be accepting Adam’s arm around his
shoulders if he thought Adam had tried to choke him deliberately. He relaxed,
suddenly feeling very tired. Joe, for his part, wondered what was wrong with
Adam. It wasn’t often Adam would touch him – or any of them – for such a
prolonged period of time and as he felt the tension drain out of Adam, he was
even more curious. It had something to do with him, obviously, but he couldn’t
think what.
“There you are!” Ben
exclaimed as they went into the house. “I wondered where you’d got to, Joe.”
“I was in the barn when
Adam came in,” Joe replied, giving his father a charming smile.
“You’re just in time for
supper,” Ben told his oldest son. “I thought you might be a little longer, to
be honest.”
“I might have been,” Adam replied.
“But there was an incident.” He smiled as he saw the worry spring into Ben’s
eyes. “No, I didn’t get into a fight or anything, Pa, don’t worry.” He quickly
told them what had happened, seeing the growing anger on his listeners’ faces.
“That Dick Riddle!” Ben
exclaimed, clenching his fists in a move that would have terrified Riddle had
he seen it. “He’s a born trouble-maker
if ever there was one!”
“Wait till I get my hands
on him!” Joe muttered.
“That’s enough!” Ben
warned, pointing his finger at Joe. “No harm has been done by this, Joe and I’m
not having you starting a brawl, is that clear?” He loomed menacingly over his
shorter, slighter built son, using his height to help him dominate this
headstrong child.
Glaring back at Ben, Joe
was determined not to back down, until he saw the look in his father’s eye and
he knew he had to obey Ben on this. It would do no good to anyone, not least
Joe, to start something. Ben was right. He dropped his eyes. “I’m sorry, Pa. I
wasn’t thinking,” he apologised.
For another second, Ben
continued to glare at Joe, but as Joe looked up and met his eyes once more, Ben
realised that his son meant what he said.
“Its all right,” he relented. “I just don’t want this getting out of hand.
A few stray words are easily forgotten, but a fight is something else again.”
He raised his gaze to include Adam and Hoss. “Let’s just forget about this.”
“Good idea,” Hoss agreed.
“Let’s eat!” He led the way to the table, where Hop Sing was laying out supper.
*****************************
That the story had been
repeated in more places than just the saloon was soon clear to the Cartwrights.
Their foreman came home from town and told them that he had heard the story
repeated half a dozen times. He had scoffed at it each time, but he knew that
weeds grew more prolifically than crops. Adam felt a kind of guilt, but as the
others pointed out to him, had he dropped Joe into the corral, Joe would have
been badly injured under the hooves of the bay stallion. As it was, he had
emerged from the corral unscathed. He wasn’t even bruised.
Since there was really
nothing they could do to stop the rumours – even with a show of solidarity –
the Cartwrights went about their business as usual. Adam and Joe still rankled
under the insult and Joe was all for seeking out Dick Riddle and bashing his
face in.
The cause of all the fuss,
the bay stallion, was still at McKenzie’s place, unsold. Joe was drawn to that
horse, but Ben had decreed that he wasn’t to go near it alone, fearing what
would happen. So the next time he went
into town, with Hoss, he coaxed his older brother into going to look at it once
more. Hoss agreed, but refused to allow Joe to go anywhere nearer than the
corral rails. Frustrated, Joe coaxed Adam, on the next trip, to go with him.
“Joe, why are you looking
at this horse?” Adam asked, exasperated. “Pa isn’t going to change his mind and
buy it just because its good looking and you’ve fallen in love with it.”
Shooting a glance over his
shoulder, Joe made a face. “He might,” he hazarded. “If I could just get on its
back and try it out…”
“That’s not going to
happen,” Adam told him kindly, going over and patting Joe on the shoulder.
“I’m sure I could break
him,” Joe protested.
“Perhaps you could,” Adam agreed,
“but Pa isn’t going to change his mind and Kyle McKenzie will ask you if he
wants you to try and ride that hellion!” He smiled. “Come on, brat, let’s go.”
“I’ll ‘brat’ you!” Joe
retorted, grinning broadly. He paused for another look at the stallion as Adam
began to walk away.
**************************
Hiding behind a wagon
loaded with hay, Dick Riddle and his gang were watching this exchange with
interest. “Them Cartwrights is trying ta make fools outa us, boys,” he
whispered. “Tryin’ ta pretend they’s really friends! Let’s teach ‘em a lesson.
Let’s grab Joe an’ if Adam really is his friend, he’ll kick up a fuss. If’n he
ain’t, then he won’t mind an’ we c’n have some fun wi’ Mr High-and-Mighty Joe
Cartwright!”
Seeing his cronies grin,
Dick nodded and they dashed out of their hiding place and charged at the
Cartwrights. Startled, Joe and Adam half-turned to meet their attackers, but
both were borne to the ground by the sheer weight of numbers.
Fighting like a madman, Joe
couldn’t guess what had provoked the attack. He hadn’t really seen faces as the
men rushed at them, but he could guess who the men were. Fists rained in on
Joe, and he was getting the worst of it. He suddenly saw an opening and smashed
his fist into one man’s face. The man fell away and his startled companions
fell back slightly too, allowing Joe to kick them away and scramble to his
knees.
“Adam!” he cried, seeing
his older brother overwhelmed. He made a dive for the nearest man.
Something sledged down on
his head at the same moment as something sharp slid up his stomach. Joe
spiralled down into darkness, aware of his brother’s despairing cry and the
pain in his stomach. Then, he knew nothing.
************************
The door to the sheriff’s
office opened abruptly and Adam reeled into the office, catching himself on the
door. “Sheriff!” he gasped. The office was empty. Adam groaned in despair, but
he was starting to turn to go and locate Roy Coffee when he heard the older
man’s voice from the inner room where the cells were.
“I’m comin’,” Roy muttered
and gaped in surprise at Adam for a second before he hurried over to catch the
younger man’s arm and help him to a seat. “Clem, git the doc!” he called and
Clem Foster, his deputy, hurried out the door, casting Adam an anxious glance
as he went. “What’s wrong, Adam?” Roy asked. “Who done this ta ya?”
“Don’t know,” Adam replied.
His head was splitting and nausea kept coming in waves. All his body ached and
thinking took a positive effort. “They’ve got Joe,” he managed and slid into a
dead faint.
***************************
While Paul Martin roused
Adam and checked him over, Roy Coffee waited in an agony of impatience. Adam
said Joe was missing, but until Adam was able to tell him where they had been, Roy
had nowhere to start looking for him. “Well?” he asked, anxiously, as Paul
Martin straightened.
“He’s had a nasty knock on
the head,” Paul replied, “and he’s taken quite a beating. A couple of cracked
ribs and more bruises than I care to count, but he’s been lucky.”
“Can I talk ta him?” Roy
asked.
“You’d better,” Paul
replied, grimly. “If Joe is missing, he might be hurt, too. I’ve given Adam
something for the pain, so ask quickly before it sends him to sleep.”
Crouching by the couch
where Adam was lying, Roy smiled. “Adam, tell me what happened, boy.”
“Joe…wanted to look…at that
stallion,” Adam began. One eye was swollen shut and rapidly turning black. Adam
found it very strange not to be able to see properly. “Someone jumped us. There
were…a few of them,” he went on, unable to remember how many. “They hit Joe
and… he’s gone.”
“All right, you rest now,
son,” Roy calmed him. He stood up and glanced at Paul. “You stay here with
him?” He knew he didn’t really need to ask. Paul nodded. Roy glanced at Clem
and saw that his deputy was ready.
**************************
There wasn’t much to see at
McKenzie’s corral. The stallion had attracted a lot of attention and the ground
was well marked with different sets of footprints. But it was easy enough to
see where the scuffle had taken place, as the ground was dotted with
bloodstains and Joe’s green jacket, the front saturated in blood, was lying on
the ground.
************************
The messenger had reached
the ranch quickly, but dusk was drawing down by the time Ben and Hoss arrived in town. They hurriedly dismounted
and all but ran into the doctor’s office where Adam was to be found, resting
comfortably.
“Hello, Ben,” Paul said, as
his friend came into the office. “Adam’s in here and I’m pleased to say he’ll
be just fine after a good night’s sleep.”
“What about Joe?” Ben
asked, relieved that one son was safe, but deeply concerned about the other.
“I don’t know,” Paul
admitted. “You’ll need to ask Roy.”
“I’ll git him, Pa,” Hoss offered,
seeing how torn Ben was. He turned towards the door, but it opened before he
reached it and Roy Coffee came in. He had been watching out for Ben’s arrival.
“Roy, where’s Joe?” Ben
demanded.
“I don’t know,” Roy
admitted. He quickly told Ben the little he knew and saw the worry on his
friend’s face deepen.
“There was blood on his
jacket?” Ben echoed. “How much blood?” Ben’s heart was pounding hard in his
chest and as he glanced at Hoss, he saw the same fear on his son’s face as he
was feeling. What had happened to Joe?”
“Not as much as you’re
thinking,” Paul replied. “Ben, I’ve looked at the jacket. You know as well as I
do that a little blood can go a long way. I don’t know whose blood it is, or
what caused the bleeding, but it isn’t anywhere near fatal. Sore, I would
suspect, and I don’t suppose it was just from a nosebleed, but that is
possible.”
“What do we do now?” Ben
asked. “I want to see Adam.”
“We’ll have another look in
the morning,” Roy replied. “Its too dark tonight ta do any more. Ya go an’ see
yer boy, Ben. We’ll leave at first light.”
*************************
Consciousness came back and
Joe wished it hadn’t. His head was pounding and as he tried to move to relieve
an ache in his back, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach that took his breath
away. Memory came back with a rush and then Joe realised that he was tied up,
his hands bound behind him and his ankles firmly fastened to what looked like
the edge of a stall in a barn.
Blinking, Joe cleared his
vision and peered around him. He was definitely in a barn, he thought as he
squinted in the growing gloom. It was almost dark outside, but there was still
enough light for Joe to see what his nose had been telling him. He was in a
barn, but it hadn’t been used for horses in a long time. There was no smell of
horses at all, just hot, stale air.
There was no sign of Adam.
Angry and worried, Joe
fought with his bonds until his wrists were raw and bleeding. Exhausted, with
his head pounding worse than ever, Joe slumped down and took stock of his
situation. It was almost dark and he wasn’t about to get out of this
predicament in the next few minutes. He glanced down at his stomach and saw the
long, thin cut that ran up his belly, courtesy of someone’s knife. The front of
his shirt was stained with blood, which felt horribly stiff against his tender
skin. Joe knew that he would have to rest for a little while before he renewed
his struggles to get free. He knew there was no point in shouting for help; if
he had been anywhere near habitation, he would’ve been gagged.
He closed his eyes and
forced his body to relax. A multitude of smaller areas of pain began to put in
their claim for notice, but compared to his head and his belly, they were
nothing. Joe barely felt them as he drifted into sleep.
******************************
“Ah…Sheriff?”
“What d’you want, Riddle?”
Roy asked, glaring at him. Roy had no time for the idle young man. And right
now, he was busy trying to organise a search and was asking if anyone had seen Joe
the previous afternoon.
“I seen Joe Cartwright
yesterday afternoon,” Riddle replied. “Ain’t that what yer askin’?”
“When d’you see him?” Roy
demanded. “Where?”
Taking a step back, Riddle
meekly replied, “Round at McKenzie’s corral. Him an’ Adam were goin’ at it
somethin’ fierce…” He let his voice trail off and eyed Roy apprehensively. “Ya
know what Adam’s like. Him an’ Joe don’t git on that well. Adam hit him.”
“What happened then?” Roy
asked, a growing disquiet in his heart. It was no secret that Joe and Adam
clashed much more often than Joe and Hoss or Adam and Hoss, but it was
stretching it somewhat to say that they didn’t get on that well.
“Joe shouted that Adam
weren’t his pa an’ he wouldn’t do what Adam told him. An’ then Adam said…”
Riddle hesitated and Roy made ‘go on’ motions with his hands. Everyone round
about was listening avidly. “Adam said, ‘I wish I’d choked ya the other day
when I had the chance!’”
*******************************
There were shocked murmurs
from all around and not a few voices rose in dissent, but Roy knew that there
would be enough gullible people to believe Riddle’s outrageous story. For
himself, he didn’t believe a word of it and he just hoped Ben hadn’t been close
enough to hear it. It was a forlorn hope as Ben appeared out of the crowd and
loomed over Riddle. “What lies are you telling about my sons?” he bellowed.
A sleepless night,
flavoured with anxiety, had done nothing for Ben’s temper. Adam was looking
better this morning, awake and aware, allowing Ben to change his focus slightly
and think more about Joe, his missing son. But to many, Ben’s loss of control
indicated to them that Ben knew this was the truth and Adam was indeed guilty
of harming Joe. After all, hadn’t he once shot his brother, they whispered to
each other, and then claimed it was an accident?
Quailing under Ben’s
furious gaze, Riddle stuttered, “Its true, Mr Cartwright. I swear it’s true!”
Putting his hand out across
Ben’s chest, Roy took charge of the conversation again. “So what happened
then?” he asked Riddle, shooting his friend a warning look.
“Joe punched Adam,” Riddle
went on. He glanced at his cronies for support. He hadn’t expected to say any
more, and was beginning to sweat under the pressure. “Adam hit him back an’ I
decided I didn’ want ta see no more. Them Cartwrights always makes out that
they’s better’n us, an’ they ain’t, brawlin’ in the street like that!” He
looked round self-righteously and several of his cronies nodded and muttered
agreement. It was frightening how quickly the muttering was picked up by others
who knew nothing about the circumstances.
“So Adam and Joe were
fightin’ when you left, is that what yer sayin’?” Roy asked. He didn’t believe
a word of it, but he could see how the crowd was swallowing it.
“That’s right,” Riddle
replied, sounding happier. “I think its plain terrible what Adam done to Joe.”
“What did Adam do to Joe?”
Ben asked, coldly. The information that Joe might be injured was not common
knowledge outside the doctor, family and sheriff.
Caught, Riddle gaped at Ben
with his mouth open. “Wha…what?” he stuttered.
“I said, what did Adam do
to Joe?” Ben was leaning in closer now, using his height and weight to
intimidate the smaller, slighter, Riddle.
“Well, ya know,” Riddle
babbled, trying to back away.
“No, I don’t know,” Ben
disagreed. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Ben…” Roy warned.
“It’s all right, Roy,” Ben
reassured him, without turning round. “Well, Riddle? I’m waiting.”
“Beatin’ up on the boy an’
such,” Riddle gasped. “It ain’t fair when he’s so much bigger’n Joe. Joe don’t
got a chance against him.”
“So Joe was coming off
worst then?” Ben asked, sounding nothing but concerned. “Bleeding, was he?”
“Yeah,” Riddle agreed, no
longer sure how to get out of the corner he’d painted himself into. “Joe was
bleedin’ real bad like.” An idea suddenly came to him. “Then he took Joe off to
the big barn back there and I heard a scream.”
“Really?” Ben asked, and
lost in his own invention, Riddle didn’t see the danger.
“Really,” he nodded
earnestly. “Joe was shoutin’ out Adam’s name.” That bit was true, he thought.
Joe had shouted Adam’s name as Riddle had cut him with the knife. “An’ then he
fell silent as Adam dragged him into that barn. I would’ve gone in after him,
but I was afraid. With Adam in a temper like that, he might’ve turned on me
next!” He looked around the crowd, as though begging for sympathy for his fear
and sensible attitude. A number of people nodded.
“Why didn’t ya tell me this
last night?” Roy asked coldly. His voice cut through Riddle’s euphoric glow of
self-congratulation. “Yer lyin’, boy! We searched that barn last night an’ it
was completely empty!” Roy grabbed Riddle’s arm. “Now tell me the truth!”
Trapped by his own words,
Riddle looked around desperately for help, but, like rats leaving a sinking
ship, his cronies had all slipped away. Riddle was alone.
***************************
As daylight crept through
the grimy, cobwebby windows of the barn, Joe slowly woke. His head wasn’t pounding
quite as hard as it had been, but he still knew about it. He didn’t feel any
more rested, for all that he knew he’d slept soundly for many hours. He moved
slightly and his body sent up a chorus of protest.
The last thing on earth Joe
wanted to do was struggle against his bonds, but, and he smiled at himself, the
other last thing on earth he wanted
to do was stay where he was, a prisoner, until such times as his captors
appeared. Resolutely, he made up his mind to get free.
It was a long struggle. At
one point, Joe caught his right thumb unawares in the ropes and in jerking to
free his hand, he felt the thumb break. The pain shot up through his wrist and
he couldn’t contain a cry. For several long minutes, he sat there, biting his
lip and panting to control the pain. It diminished slightly after a few minutes
and Joe slowly resumed his struggles, but it was much harder. Every move of his
hand caused him pain and as the ropes slowly gave way, they chafed his wrists
more and more so that his already raw wrists were in a sorry state when the
ropes finally did part.
Drawing his hands round in
front of him, Joe simply sat for a few minutes, cradling his right hand gently
and looking at the blood congealing on his wrists. It had taken him hours to
get free. Reaching down to untie his feet, Joe knew that he wasn’t safe yet. He
had to find out where he was and get home. Injured and on foot, that might not
be easy.
It took a few moments for
Joe to get his equilibrium back and he staggered from stall to stall until he
reached the barn door. It wasn’t even locked. Joe opened it a fraction and
peered out. An untidy yard met his eyes, but there didn’t seem to be any signs
of life.
Slipping through the
partially open door, Joe went right outside and looked around. He knew where he
was all right – on the old Miller ranch about five miles out of Virginia City,
on the other side of town from the Ponderosa. The ranch had been deserted for
over a year.
There was still water in
the well. Joe drew himself some and drank it gratefully. He looked at the road
once more and knew he had no option; he’d have to walk it. Splashing his face
with some water and drinking a little more, Joe took his first steps on the
road home.
*********************************
“Why are we wasting time
talking to this sorry excuse for a man?” Ben hissed at Roy as he and Hoss sat
in the sheriff’s office. “We should be out there looking for Joe!” He gestured
towards the door.
“Where do ya suggest we
look?” Roy asked, his patience stretched. “Ben, ya know we’ve turned this town
upsides down lookin’ fer Joe, an’ he ain’t to be found! Now, where else do ya
want us ta look?” He paused for only a second before going on. “Riddle’s story
ain’t true, we all know that. But I think he knows more about this than he’s
tellin’. So let us lock him up fer a bit, an’ then he’ll be willin’ ta sing.”
“Roy’s right, Pa,” Hoss
agreed. “There ain’t nowheres we ain’t looked fer Joe. He ain’t in town, an’
it’s a big country out there.”
Subsiding, Ben sighed
deeply. He was tired; his sleep had not been restful the previous night. “All
right,” he capitulated. “I’ll back off for now. But I’m telling you, Roy, I’m
not going to wait forever.” He rose. “I’m going to see Adam.”
“I’ll come with ya,” Hoss
added and got hurriedly to his feet. He flashed an apologetic smile at Roy as
he followed his father out of the door. “Roy’s right, ya know,” Hoss said, as
they reached the doctor’s office.
“Yes, I know,” Ben replied,
heavily. “That doesn’t make it any easier, though. I hate this waiting. I wish
there was something I could do.”
“I know what ya mean, Pa,”
Hoss agreed. “I hate thinkin’ o’ Little Joe out there somewhere alone an’
hurt.”
Wordlessly, Ben patted Hoss’
hand. He knew of the bond between the brothers and it was especially strong
between Joe and Hoss. They were as different as brothers could be, yet were
each other’s best friends. “We’ll find him, Hoss,” Ben vowed. “I promise you,
we’ll get Joe back, somehow.”
*******************************
“Any word of Joe?” Adam
asked, sitting up sleepily. He was appalled to find himself sleeping most of
the time, but with a head injury like he’d had, the doctor couldn’t be too
careful and Adam had been wakened every couple of hours throughout the night
and consequently was catching up on lost sleep, as well as making good the
blood he’d lost the previous day.
“Not yet,” Ben replied and
Adam sank back, weary again as the news hit him.
“This is my fault,” Adam
muttered.
“How do you work that one
out?” Ben enquired. “Just because Dick Riddle thinks he saw something that he
didn’t, it’s suddenly your fault? I don’t think so, Adam.”
“No, I suppose not,” Adam
agreed. Logic always worked with him. “But how many people saw me catch Joe and
almost choke him? How many think I was trying to do him harm?”
“It’s very easy to see the
surface of a picture,” Ben told his son, sitting down beside him. “What’s not
so easy is to see behind the picture. Yes, someone might have come along and
seen you leaning over the fence, choking the life out of your younger brother.
What would be your first reaction in that situation, having seen Hoss help pull
Joe free?”
Frowning, Adam replied,
“I’d have asked someone what was going on.”
“Exactly. Riddle was just
being a rumour-monger. He’s a lazy, shiftless, good-for-nothing and is to be
pitied. He gets his kicks from making up stories about people and you just
happened to make a convenient target, Adam.”
“Do you think he meant what
he said that day about getting rid of Joe?” Adam asked, uneasily. “Because he
seemed keen enough to get rid of Joe when he and his mates jumped us…” Adam
trailed off and gaze at Ben. “It was Riddle!” he exclaimed. “Pa, Riddle jumped
us! Riddle and his mates! I’ve got to tell Roy!”
“No, you stay here!” Ben
ordered him. “You’re not up to traipsing about the town yet, Adam. We’ll tell
Roy!”
Sagging back on his
pillows, Adam watched as his father and brother ran out of the door. He just
hoped that Joe was okay and they would find him – soon!
*****************************
The walk home was proving
even harder than Joe had anticipated. He was fit, but he rode more than he
walked and he didn’t usually get beaten up or go without a few meals before he set
off for a long walk. By the end of the first mile, he had a huge blister on his
right heel and well before he had limped to the end of the second mile, it had
burst.
Stopping for a rest in the
shade of a big tree, Joe fell asleep almost at once. When he woke, he was
disturbed to see that a couple of hours had passed and he got to his feet in a
rush. For a moment, his head swam dangerously, reminding Joe that he hadn’t
eaten in 24 hours, and that he had had very little water over the same period
of time. Catching hold of the tree to steady himself, Joe took several deep
breaths as he mentally girded his loins to begin walking again.
Immediately, the very thin
crust on his heel broke open and Joe wondered how something as small as a
blister could hurt so darned much. It did take his mind off his other woes –
slightly – but as soon as Joe thought of them, they started up a separate
chorus of misery.
Not for the first time, Joe
thought of Adam and fervently hoped his oldest brother was all right. What had their
attackers done with him? A tremor of fear passed through Joe as he fought not
to think what he was thinking.
Was Adam dead?
*************************
“I think we’ve got him!”
Roy declared, smacking one fist into the other hand. “Come on, Ben, let’s see
what he says now! Miserable little worm!” Roy led the way to the cells, where
Riddle lolled insolently on a cot.
Initially, Riddle had been
quite frightened when Roy had locked him up. Essentially a man who had never
used his brains, Riddle hadn’t realised that a lie is more effective if it is
kept simple. Then, you don’t have to remember too many plot twists and turns.
But Riddle had allowed his own cleverness to impress himself and had uttered
the very words that had trapped him.
But as the afternoon had
worn on, and there had been no attempts to beat the truth out of him – he had a
most lurid imagination – he began to feel quite smug. He had got one over on
the Cartwrights, and there was nothing they could do about it. Only he and his
cronies knew where Joe was and perhaps when he was released later on, he could
let the Cartwrights know where Joe was. Perhaps.
“Well, sheriff, come to let
me go?” Riddle drawled. He had already embellished his part in this into a
heroic man standing against injustice. Twisting the facts to suit himself was
another of his more dubious talents.
“No,” Roy replied. “I’ve
come ta charge ya fer assault and probable kidnapping. If’n Joe ain’t found
soon, ya’ll hang fer murder, too.”
The colour drained out of
Riddle’s face as though someone had turned on a tap. His casual, insolent
posture straightened immediately and his eyes opened so wide that Ben half
expected his eyeballs to pop out. If ever there was a guilt ridden response
that was it. “Wha…what?” he gasped.
“Adam Cartwright has
remembered what happened ta him last night,” Roy went on. “He’s gonna press
charges against ya and yer buddies.” He glanced around the little jail. “Its
gonna be a might crowded in here, but I expect ya’ll manage, bein’ as how yer
all such good friends.”
“Wait!” Riddle cried as Roy
acted as though he was going to leave. “I’ll tell ya where Little Joe is if’n
ya’ll let me go!”
Listening to the man plead,
Ben felt suddenly sick. This low-life nobody had been enjoying lording it over the
Cartwrights, indifferent to Joe’s suffering at his hands. If Roy hadn’t just
threatened his own life, would Riddle now be talking? Or would they have been
forever ignorant of Joe’s whereabouts?
“I cain’t let ya go,” Roy
reproved him. “But I’ll be sure an’ tell the judge ya cooperated. He might go
lighter on ya fer that.”
For a horrible minute, Ben
thought Riddle wasn’t going to respond, but then he jumped to his feet. “I’ll
tell ya!” he babbled. “I’ll tell ya!”
*************************
Adam was bored. Paul Martin
had spent a good part of the day in his office, treating the people who had
come to see him and checking on Adam often, but he had been called out a short
time before. Rising, Adam walked slowly around the office, but none of Paul’s medical
tomes enticed him to pick them up.
It seemed to have been a
long time since Ben and Hoss had left and Adam was growing anxious again. Had
they found out Joe’s whereabouts from Riddle? Had they found Joe and… Adam
didn’t allow the thought to coalesce. Joe was not dead. He was going to be
fine. But the waiting and solitude were suddenly too much for Adam to bear and
he picked up his hat before going over to the door.
Whatever he had expected to
find outside the office, a crowd of drunken, angry men was not it! Adam took a
step back as a roar went up when he appeared. What was going on? Why were all
these people in the street? Adam hesitated for a moment before deciding he
would go over to the jail where he would find out what was going on.
He hadn’t taken more than a
few steps before the mob had him. “Here he is!” cried one man. “Here’s the man
who’s murdered his brother and claims another did it! What are we going to do
with him?”
“Hang him!” shouted another
man and the mob took up the cry. “Hang him! Hang him! Hang him!”
Bewildered and frightened,
Adam tried to shrug off the hands gripping his arms, but was unable to move
them. “No, wait!” he cried. “You don’t understand!” His cries were ignored.
But as his hands were tied
behind his back, Adam caught a glimpse of one of Riddle’s cronies and suddenly
it all made sense. He knew that Riddle was in jail, but clearly Roy had not yet
caught up with the others in the gang, and they, fuelled by drink, had decided
to spread Riddle’s lies even further.
Suddenly, Adam knew he was
going to die.
**************************
“What’s all that shouting?”
Roy asked, distracted from Riddle’s confession. He crossed to the window and a
gasp ripped from his throat. “Ben, quick! They’ve got Adam!” He snatched up a shotgun
and threw it to Ben, while grabbing another for himself.
Racing out of the door, Ben
was halted by the sight which met his eyes. An angry mob had Adam. His hands
were tied behind his back and a noose was round his neck. “Adam!” Ben wasn’t
aware he had spoken. He ran after Roy, vaguely aware that Hoss and Clem were
coming behind him, both armed. Adam had already been dragged to the livery
stable and forced onto a wagon that had been hauled under the projecting bar
usually used to swinging hay into the loft. Now, it was to be used to lynch
Adam Cartwright!
**************************
Reeling with exhaustion,
Joe finally reached the edge of town. He had seen not a single person on the road.
His belly burned with fire as his arm constantly rubbed against the gash on it,
and his broken thumb was swollen to almost three times its usual size. Joe
didn’t feel very well, for his headache had never gone away and he was sweating
profusely as he forced his tired body to keep going.
Deciding that the best
place to aim for was the sheriff’s office, Joe headed in that direction. Now
that his goal was almost within reach, Joe was finding it harder and harder to
keep walking. He just wanted to lie down somewhere and rest. Something to eat
and drink would be good, too, he thought.
It was about then that the
noise began to impinge upon his consciousness. Joe shook the fog from his brain
and listened more closely. The shouts were angry and Joe wondered what on earth
was happening. Then one word got through to him – lynch! It was a lynch mob!
Somehow, Joe persuaded his
legs to move a little faster and he threaded his way through the buildings
until he was on the edge of the main street, at the opposite end of the street
from the jail. He paused, leaning heavily against a building while he tried to
make out what was going on. It didn’t take him long.
At once, he recognised the
dark head and custard-coloured coat that belonged to his oldest brother. Fear sprang
into Joe’s heart and he began to hurry towards the people, shouting,
protesting, but his voice was lost in the general hubbub.
It was only as he began to
push his way through the press of people that he realised why they wanted to
lynch Adam. He began to pound on men’s backs, forcing them out of the way, not
feeling his injuries any more, just desperate to get to Adam before the mob did
something it would regret and Adam died. Joe knew he couldn’t bear it if Adam
died in this way.
But Joe’s presence was
being noticed by the mob now, and a murmur was beginning to spread. But before
he could reach the ears of the men with Adam, a shot was fired and Roy Coffee
was standing near by. “Let him go!” he ordered.
“No way, old man!” shouted
one of the men on the wagon. Joe recognised him as one of Riddle’s gang, Mark
Shaw. Shaw drew his gun and placed it against Adam’s head. Joe increased his
pushing and shoving, knowing that perhaps he was the only one with a chance of
reaching Adam before he was killed. “He murdered his brother an’ we aim fer him
ta pay fer that!”
At last, Joe was through
and he jumped onto the back of the wagon in a fluid move that belied his
injuries and exhaustion. A murmur swept through the crowd. “I’m not dead!” Joe
shouted. “So how could Adam have murdered me?”
Swinging round, Shaw looked
utterly shocked to see Joe. “You…” he began.
“Let him go, Shaw,” Joe
warned.
“Joe!” Adam croaked.
“Behind you!”
Turning, Joe barely missed
having his head bashed in by another of the gang, Ed Watson. The blow from the
gun butt missed his head, but crashed onto Joe’s right shoulder as he twisted
away. Joe fell, pain radiating up his neck and down his arm.
Had they been alone, neither
Joe nor Adam would have survived. Fuelled by drink and spite, Shaw and Watson
were intent only on killing the witnesses that could put them in jail,
forgetting completely about the mob they had raised.
Roy Coffee raised his rifle
and shot Shaw in the chest as he turned to put his gun to Adam’s head once
more. Hoss got Watson as he reversed his gun to shoot Joe. And as suddenly as
that, the mob was a mob no more; just a group of shocked people who realised
what they had almost done.
As Ben and Roy fought their
way to the wagon, Joe scrambled to his feet and staggered over to Adam. With
his good left hand, he carefully pulled the rope from round his brother’s neck
and embraced him. With his hands still tied, Adam couldn’t return the gesture,
but he laid his head on top of Joe’s where it lay on his shoulder.
And then Ben was there, his
arms round both his sons as Hoss freed Adam’s hands.
***************************
“Are you all right?” Ben
demanded, not sure which son he was asking.
“I’m fine, Pa,” Adam
replied, rubbing his wrists gingerly. “Thanks to Joe and you.”
“I’m okay,” Joe added,
smiling at Adam.
“Let’s get you both to the
doctor then,” Ben beamed, and turned away. Adam was beside him, but it took him
a second to realise that Joe hadn’t moved. Turning, he was just in time to see
his youngest son’s legs give way beneath him.
All day, Joe had been
forcing himself to keep going and his energy levels were very depleted. He had
expended the last of his energy to save Adam and now that Adam was safe and the
adrenalin had drained from his system, Joe found his legs would not obey him.
His body had had enough and he collapsed.
“Joe!” Ben, Adam and Hoss
all reached for him as Joe looked surprised to find himself unable to get up.
“I’m all right,” Joe told
them, but discovered, to his own surprise, that he was anything but all right.
He broke out in a cold sweat as reaction caught up to him and his legs began to
cramp fiercely. Suddenly, his entire body hurt.
“Help me,” Ben told Hoss
and together, they picked Joe up and with Adam creating a path, made their way
through the crowds of people to the doctor’s office. Paul Martin fell in with
them on the way over.
“Was he hit?” Paul asked,
glancing down at Joe’s wan face.
“I’m all right,” Joe protested,
and bit his lip, proving himself a liar, but since no one had believed him, no
one chided him.
Before long, Joe was
stretched out on the examination table as Paul checked him over. Roy Coffee was
quickly in attendance, too, but it became clear pretty soon that Joe would be
fine with some rest and tender, loving care. “That gash in his stomach will
need stitches,” Paul reported, “But it could’ve been much worse, obviously. His
wrists should heal without a scar and his shoulder is just bruised. But I’ve
got to set your thumb, Joe, so I’m going to give you something to make you
sleep.”
“All right,” Joe agreed.
“And look at the blister on my heel, please, doc? It hurts worse than
everything else.”
Smiling, Paul replied,
“Maybe that bump on your head is worse than I thought, Joe, if you’re worried
about a blister!”
“A blister!” Hoss scoffed,
leaning in to smile with relief at his youngest brother. “Why a blister ain’t
nothin’!”
“So that was someone else I
saw limpin’ pitifully when you were breakin’ in a new pair of boots a month or
two back, was it?” Joe retorted. The sound of Hoss’ laughter was the last thing
he heard as he slid off into a drugged sleep.
**************************
There was a trial, of
course. Shaw had died shortly after Roy shot him and Watson was badly injured,
but recovered. The rest of the gang was rounded up and they all stood trial.
Adam’s testimony was the one that sent them all to jail, as Joe couldn’t
remember seeing anyone’s face during the fracas.
Both Adam and Joe had
recovered well from their ordeals. Joe had had his hand put in plaster to allow
the thumb to heal properly and he and Adam had gone home that night. Although
they had been gone little more than 24 hours, it felt like weeks to them both.
Joe had slept deeply for hours and eaten ravenously for what seemed like days
afterwards.
After that their recovery
had been more a matter of talking to each other, reliving the event and coming
to terms with the idea that they could have done nothing more than they did and
that what happened was not their fault. If Adam had nightmares about his close
brush with death, he kept them strictly to himself.
As ever, Joe was more open
about it and talked at length with his father about his feelings of fear when
he spotted Adam with the noose around his neck. “I can’t imagine what it must
have been like,” Joe admitted.
“I don’t think you want to
imagine that,” Ben replied. “I know I don’t.” Ben shuddered, for he had stood
in that place, with a noose around his neck when he was innocent.
“Pity I hadn’t had this
cast when I jumped up there,” Joe remarked. He lifted up his hand. “It’s heavy
enough to have knocked Shaw cold!”
“Well, just remember that
its purpose is to help your thumb heal,” Ben chided him, smiling. “Not to give
you an unfair advantage when fighting with your brothers.”
“Me?” Joe squeaked. “Fight?
Never!” He jumped to his feet to avoid the gentle swat Ben sent his way.
“Thanks, Pa, you’ve just given me a great idea!”
“Joseph!” Ben bellowed as
the front door banged shut.
The End