CARTWRIGHT V. CARTWRIGHT

By: Debra P.

The streets of Virginia City were almost deserted, which was rare for that time of the afternoon.  It seemed like the entire town had gravitated to the courtroom where the case of Cartwright v. Cartwright was being tried.  The news that one of Ben Cartwright’s sons was suing another had caused quite a stir among local gossip mongers and it seemed that almost everyone was eager to find out just what was going on.

The excited buzz in the courtroom quieted somewhat as Judge Abraham Moyer gaveled the afternoon session to order.  Many eyes looked curiously at Ben Cartwright as he sat near the front of the packed venue with his arms folded across his chest and a frown on his face, watching his middle son Hoss, the plaintiff in the case, swear an oath to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. 

Hoss took his place in the witness chair with a troubled expression, as if reluctant to be there.  He twisted his hat in his hands nervously as Judge Moyer began to elicit information from him.

“Mr. Cartwright, I have statements here from both you and the defendant, who is, I understand , your younger brother.  I’d like to start off by having you expand on yours.  Now, the issue in this case is the destruction of a saddle, is that correct?”

“That’s right, your honor.”

“Please describe the saddle for me.”

“Oh, it’s a beauty, judge...leastwise, it WAS.  Just about the best you can get to use every day accordin’ to Mr. Alford over at the harness shop.  Real fine leather with all sorts of fancy designs stitched onto it and even some silver trimmins.”

“And what was the value of the saddle, Mr. Cartwright?”

“Judge, I paid a hunnerd ‘n’ twenty dollars for that saddle.” At this a murmur ran through the crowd.  Ignoring it, Hoss continued. “That’s why I can’t just let this whole thing go, ya see...”

“Yes, Mr. Cartwright,” the judge interrupted. “Now can you please tell me the circumstances of its destruction?”

“Well, your honor, about two weeks ago I got a message from Mr. Alford, sayin’ that the saddle was ready, and I was real happy about that ‘cause I’d been waitin’ for quite a while.  So the next day I came into town to pick it up and pay him for it, and I was plumb tickled at the way it had turned out.  Now, when I got it home I put it back in the part of our barn where we keep our tack and I polished it up a mite, then I threw a blanket over it and I went to bed that night thinkin’ about how I was gonna get to use it for the first time the next day.”

At this point Hoss seemed to hesitate, but the judge prodded him to continue.  “And then what happened?”

“Well, sir, I was the first one up in the mornin’, and I went right out to start doin’ chores sose I’d have ‘em all done by the time breakfast was ready.  And when I got outside, what did I find?”  Hoss paused dramatically.  “Judge, someone had taken that brand new saddle that I hadn’t never even ridden on yet and just dumped it in the big water trough out in the yard!”

“So I take it there was considerable water damage?”

Oh there was some o’ that all right.  That leather wadn’t ever gonna be like new again, even if the polishin’ I gave it protected it some.  Looked like it had been soakin’ for a few hours at least...though I really can’t say fer sure how long. But that wadn’t the worst of it.  There was slash marks all over it from a sharp knife, the stirrups had been cut clean off and some of the silver doo-dads pried off too.”

“And you concluded that the saddle was a total loss?”

“Yessir.  There weren’t no way to fix up everythin’ that had been done to it...not for less than the cost of replacin’ it anyways.”

“Now you are claiming that your younger brother...let me see here...Joseph...is responsible for the damage.”

Hoss swallowed.  “Yessir.”

“Your statement indicates that you did not actually see him inflicting any of this damage...is that correct?”

“That’s right, your honor.”

“Then on what evidence do you base your conclusion as to his guilt?”

“Well, judge, for one thing, I know that Joe was right mad at me that day.  The day before he tried to get me to lend him some money and I turned him down.  Knowin’ I was gonna be payin’ for the saddle, I didn’t have very much on me to spare.  An even if I had I’d a thought twice before givin’ it to ‘im.  I’ ve been burned often enough givin’ money to that rascal.”

At this, Joe Cartwright, who was sitting at the table reserved for the defendant, leaned back in his chair and scowled at his brother.

“But the main thing,” Hoss continued, “is the footprints I found around the water trough.  It had rained some in the night and there were real clear marks in the mud  around the trough and between the trough and the barn.  Judge I’d know the marks of my brother’s boots anywhere and those were definitely Joe’s footprints!”  A murmur ran through the crowd at his words.  “And when I checked his boots there were  traces of mud on ‘em...and he hadn’t been outside yet!”  The murmur of the crowd grew louder.

Joe jumped up from his seat.  “Hoss, I told you how that happened!  I pulled a calf out of the watering hole in the north pasture just before I headed home that evening.  That’s how I got mud on my boots!  Why won’t you believe me?!”

“An’ why won’t you just admit what you done?,” Hoss retorted.  “What about the marks left around the trough?  Joe, all you had to do is admit it and agree to pay me back and we coulda settled this thing!”

Joe shook his head in frustration.  “I don’t know about the marks - you must be mistaken about that somehow!  But I’m telling you, Hoss, I didn’t do it!!”

The brothers looked at each other with pain in both of their eyes as the noise of the crowd rose around them.  And Ben Cartwright turned his eyes anxiously toward the door at the back of the room, as if waiting for someone.

Judge Moyer rapped his gavel repeatedly for order.  And just as the hubbub was subsiding there was a stir by the door at the back of the room as three figures entered and strode up the center aisle.  One was Adam Cartwright.  The second  was a young man of about the same height and build as Joe Cartwright, dressed in faded plaid shirt and blue jeans with dirty blond hair falling down over his eyes and a sullen expression on his face.  Adam kept a firm grasp on the young man’s arm as they made  their way toward the judge’s bench.  Following them was Sheriff Roy Coffee.

“Your honor, if I may....”  Adam’s strong, clear voice cur through the diminishing din.  “I have some information that I think should settle this whole matter.”

The judge regarded the newcomers curiously.  “And just who might you be, sir?”

“Adam Cartwright, your honor.”  Adam’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he looked from Hoss to Joe.  “Brother to both the plaintiff and the defendant.”

“Ah yes.  And just what is your information?”

“Your honor, I am aware that the main evidence the plaintiff has against the defendant in this case is some footprints, identified as belonging to the defendant, found at the scene.  My information relates to those footprints.  If I might be allowed to question the parties?”

“Very well, you may proceed.”

Adam looked over at Hoss.  “Hoss, you recognized the footprints around the water trough as being made by Joe’s boots.  Did you happen to notice any indications of how old the boots were?”

Hoss looked back in some confusion.  “Well no, I didn’t”

“Judge, I also examined the footprints and I am prepared to testify that the marks of the heels and a patch on the sole indicated significant wear.  Those prints were made by old boots.”

Adam looked to Joe.  “Joe, when did you get your new pair of boots?”

“ I got them...just a few days before Hoss got the saddle.”  Joe’s eyes widened as he began to realize where Adam was going with this.  “That’s right!  I had been  wearing my new boots for several days when all this happened!”

“And what had you done with the old ones?,” Adam prodded him.

“I left them with Mr. Lurry, the bootmaker.  He was going to patch them up and sell them used.....”  Joe looked at his oldest brother in astonishment.

“Your honor.”  Adam turned to the judge.  “This morning I remembered about Joe’s new boots and how he had  mentioned  leaving his other ones with Mr. Lurry at the time.  Sheriff Coffee and I visited Mr. Lurry and found out that he had sold my younger brother’s old boots to this gentleman,” Adam indicated the young man whose arm he continued to grip tightly, “Mr. Jasper Zucker.”

“Jasper Zucker”, the judge said slowly.  “Somehow that name sounds familiar, but I don’t quite remember in what connection.”

“He’s a Texan, your honor,” Roy Coffee chimed in.  “Arrived here in Virginia City only a couple o’ months ago.”  The sheriff paused.  “I was goin’ back  through some wanted posters that just came to me within the last few days, and it seems this fella has a warrant against him from down there in Texas...for robbery.”

“I see.  And what exactly is his involvement in the case currently before the court?”

“Your honor, Sheriff Coffee and I both believe that Mr. Zucker here is the one who actually destroyed the saddle,” Adam replied.  “After getting his name from Mr. Lurry the sheriff and I went to question him.  We noticed immediately that he was in fact wearing the boots in question.”  All eyes were directed toward Jasper Zucker’s feet.  “And...,”  Adam fished in the pocket of his tan jacket and brought out a couple of small silver discs,  “we found these on the top of the dresser in his room.  Do you recognize them, Hoss?”  He held them out for his brother’s inspection. 

Hoss frowned.  “I sure enough do.  Those are a couple o’ the silver pieces that was pried off the saddle!”

Once more Judge Moyer found it necessary to gavel the onlookers to order.

The judge was frowning too.  “Does Mr. Zucker have any motive for committing such an action against Hoss Cartwright?”

“I reckon he thinks he does, judge,” Hoss himself answered.  “I won a little over a hunnerd dollars from him in a poker game about a week before the saddle was ruined.”  Hoss blushed slightly.  “Best night I’ve had at playin’ cards in a long time.  I don’t usually do so well at that.  Anyways, Zucker here was pretty upset about it.  Funny, ain’t it?  -  the amount of money I won from him is just about what I paid for the saddle.”

“Funny, yeah!,” Jasper Zucker’s voice cut in angrily.  “You wouldn’t think it was so darn funny if you were the one who lost the money to me and then had to watch me use it to buy the thing you always....”  He suddenly realized that he might be saying too much, and his voice trailed off.

Judge Moyer leaned forward.  “Mr. Zucker, are you admitting to destroying Mr. Cartwright’s saddle?”

Zucker stared back at him defiantly.  “I’m admittin’ nothin’!  And I ain’t sayin’ anything more either!”  And he settled into an angry silence. 

The judge settled back in his chair and considered the situation.  “Well, whether you confess or not, Mr. Zucker, it seems to me that there is sufficient evidence to charge you with malicious destruction of property.  Of course there is also the matter of the warrant from Texas to be considered.”  He turned to Roy Coffee.  “Sheriff, I hereby order you to take Mr. Zucker into custody until it is determined what further action will be taken against him.”

“Right, your honor,” the sheriff replied.  And he put a pair of handcuffs around Jasper Zucker’s wrists and began to lead the protesting young man away.

Judge Moyer turned to Hoss.  “Now with regard to your suit against Joseph Cartwright...”

“About that, judge,” Hoss interjected.  “Seems like my little brother there didn’t do it after all, and I reckon the right thing to do is just to drop it, long as that’s all right with you.”

“It most certainly is.”  A smile flickered across the judge’s face.  “The case of Cartwright v. Cartwright is hereby dismissed!”  And he rapped his gavel sharply for the last time. 

The spectators rose from their seats and began to move slowly toward the door, chatting animatedly all the while.  The four Cartwrights gathered around the defense table, where Joe had been sitting.  Joe rose slowly and glared at Hoss as he approached the table.

“Didn’t I try to tell you, Hoss?  I told you I didn’t do it, now didn’t I?”  Joe said in a wounded tone.

“Shucks, Joe, I’m plumb sorry about not believin’ ya.  I guess I shoulda knowed you didn’t do it.  You got a streak o’ mischief in you sure enough, but you ain’t mean that way.  I’m right sorry.”  Hoss spoke tentatively as a blush of shame passed over his face.

Joe’s expression softened as he saw Hoss’ remorse.  “Aw, that’s all right, big brother.  If somebody had destroyed my brand new saddle I might not have been thinkin’ so clearly about it either. No hard feelings...OK?”  Joe smiled and held out his hand.  Hoss took it gratefully and smiled shyly back at him, nodding his agreement.

“Well I’m glad to see that you two have settled things between you,” Ben Cartwright spoke up.  “Personally, I think you both owe a big thank you to your older brother here for discovering the truth of the matter.”  He nodded toward Adam, who had been observing his brothers’ reconciliation with amused satisfaction.

“You’re right about that one, Pa,” Hoss admitted humbly, throwing a look of gratitude in Adam’s direction. 

“You sure are.  Thanks, older brother,” Joe agreed, and he also threw Adam a grateful look.  Adam accepted their thanks with a simple nod of acknowledgement. 

Now I want to make one thing perfectly clear,” Ben continued in his “no contradiction allowed” tone.  “Any future disputes among you boys WILL be settled between yourselves.  I will NOT have the Cartwright name dragged into court for the amusement of the Virginia City populace again.  Is that understood?”  He looked sternly from one son to another and all three nodded.

“Now,” Ben resumed, “I think we could all use a good meal at the International House.”  His sons agreed enthusiastically. “And you will be treating.” Ben pointed to Hoss.

Hoss raised his eyebrows, but then his expression settled into an understanding smile.  “I reckon that’s only fair, Pa.  Well, let’s get goin’ then.  I sure am gettin’ hungry!”

“As always,” Adam commented drily.

And with a laugh, the four Cartwrights turned to follow the remainder of the crowd out the door.

THE END

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