RIVER BOAT GAMBLER

By JULES

Bonnie had given Seline the barest of outlines at to Joe’s mental state, saying that Joe didn’t remember who he was. Seline had scoffed at it being a stunt and had strode into the room, prepared to give the young Cartwright a lesson after his escape attempt.

Joe opened his eyes again, still squinting at the harshness of the light and swallowing hard to cope with the relentless pain in his head. He couldn’t put any coherent thought together that would give him any kind of explanation to his current situation.

Seline came and stood by the bed, fully prepared to be a sceptic and to make Cartwright reveal that he was faking the symptoms that Bonnie had explained.

“Come now, Joseph, you don’t expect me to believe this little performance do you?” Seline asked.

Joe had started a little at the voice, not hearing anybody approaching. He had tried to focus on the face talking to him, but it held no familiarity either. He couldn’t put a name to the well-dressed gentlemen at all, or how he came to know him.

“Who are you?” Joe asked, closing his eyes again briefly. He was tiring quickly and didn’t wish to deal with the pain and confusion any longer. He wanted the darkness to come and take him again so he didn’t have to ask questions that seemed to have no answer.

A resounding slap could be heard as Seline slapped Joe across the face without warning. Joe had yelped at the slap and looked back at the man with shock and surprise, but still no idea as to the reason for being struck.

“I promise you more of the same if you wish to play these foolish games, Joseph.” Seline said in a cold voice.

“Who is Joseph?” he asked not realising the man had been talking about himself. He didn’t really care at the moment, he just didn’t want to deal with any of it while the pain was so bad.

Seline had raised his hand in frustration, ready to deliver the second blow, but held his hand in mid-air as he watched the young man close his eyes and fall back to sleep. He still thought the stunt a ploy, but something in Joe’s eyes as he had rubbed at the redness on his cheek, made him stop and think a little.

There had been a look of uncertainty and one of fear. Surely the boy could remember his own name?

now the page turns and the story continues ………………….

Seline sat at the table, drink poured, but left untouched as he tried to go over what he had just seen in the other room.

On the face of it, Joe Cartwright appeared to be playing an elaborate game of charades. But there was a small part of him that thought perhaps the young man was not merely acting. Bonnie had clearly thought something more serious wrong with him, and that had been evident in her actions and clearly written on her face.

Seline remembered the conversation he had held with Bonnie about getting a new doctor to examine Cartwright when they arrived in New Orleans. It looked like it was time to make such arrangements, but in addition to examining the physical wounds inflicted, making a diagnosis on any long-term effects of the blows he had sustained.

Seline called Yeager, Edwards and Bonnie together to tell them of the decisions he had made about how to move Cartwright from the train once they reached New Orleans.

“We will wait for the other passengers to get off,” Seline told them, still seated at the table. “Once the coast is clear and there aren’t so many witnesses, we will move young Mr Cartwright to the steam boat. Everything there is in order.”

“But I thought you were going to get a doctor to look at him,” Bonnie blurted out.

“Calm yourself, my dear,” Seline said, giving a sly smile at her. “I will arrange for a doctor to examine Joseph once we reach the boat. I considered the idea of a hotel in town, but I want to use his apparent lack of memory to my advantage.”

“How so,?” Edwards asked, feeling like he was getting lost in the conversation a little.

“If he truly has a lapse in his memory of people and surroundings, then the first place he needs to become familiar with is the place is the boat. After all, this whole scheme revolves around the idea of taking him away from Ben Cartwright and the Ponderosa. To get him to believe that he has been raised somewhere else all his life,” Seline explained.

“The fallacy has to be as real as possible if this is going to work. Joseph has to believe that we are the ones who care about him. That we are his friends and that this is where he truly belongs,” Seline continued.

Edwards and Yeager had placed themselves at opposite ends of the train on the platform. Both casually standing and analyzing the surroundings and watching the faces of the passengers disembarking.

There seemed to be two porters who were currently run off their feet, fetching luggage for passengers. Edwards could hear one of them being berated by one impatient woman, saying that he was taking too long to carry her baggage. The fellow was doing the best he could, but by the high tone of the obnoxious woman’s voice, she wouldn’t have agreed with his assessment.

Looking away from that scene, Edwards noted that Yeager was signaling him, indicating that the commotion on the platform was the ideal time to be moving Joe Cartwright. Although there were still a number of people in plain sight, most appeared to be pre-occupied with someone else or their own affairs to be taking particular note of anything that may seem out of the ordinary.

Edwards and Yeager appeared together before Seline, giving their candid report of the commotion and chaos that was on the platform at this time. Seline did agree that it did appear to be a good opportunity to remove the Cartwright boy and bundle him into a taxi towards the docks.

“Bonnie, you go and fetch us a taxi and make sure its waiting right outside the entrance to the railway station,” Seline ordered. “Yeager you give me a hand to stand him upright. He is still unconscious, but between us we should be able to disguise that enough until we reach the taxi.”

“Edwards you grab the baggage and put it up on top of the taxi,” Seline told the man.

Reluctantly, Bonnie rose from her bedside vigil, and made her way towards the door of the train. She took the one piece of luggage belonging to her, for two reasons. One so that she would not look out of place amidst the other passengers on the platform, and secondly, because she did want any of these men having access to the few items that were personal to her.

With Bonnie out of the room, and Edwards gathering the few pieces of luggage, Seline drew back the sheet that had been lightly covering Joe Cartwright, and tried to assess the best way to approach moving him.

“Is he going to wake up once we start moving him?” Yeager asked, the very question that was running through Seline’s mind.

“I don’t think so,” Seline said, trying to sound convincing, but not exactly sure himself. “He looks to be fairly out of it for the time being. Lets just get him off the bed and to the door. We can make it up as we go.”

Seline and were grateful for the fact that Bonnie seemed to think a little ahead of them and had dressed Joe in a shirt and trousers before she left, preparing for the intended move from the train. At least they didn’t have to do any of that. Seline did intend to use his hat to hide his face as he had done when boarding the train.

“Take him underneath the arm and lift him into a sitting position first,” Seline instructed Yeager.

Joe remained unresponsive during this process, his head leaning back a little due to him remaining unconscious. It was when Yeager and Seline lifted him to an upright stance on his feet that the fog in his mind began to clear slightly, and the first signs of conscious emerged.

At first the only response was a deep low groan from the base of his throat as his body was pulled upwards. Yeager and Seline were both surprised by the sound, looking intently at the young man’s face for any further movement.

“Let’s hurry, we may not have much time to spare,” Seline commented, unsure of how close the young man was from awareness of what was happening to him.

Yeager and Seline managed to maneuver and guide Joe awkwardly through the carriage’s narrow passage way towards the door. His hat was placed somewhat haphazardly on his head, but there was few attempts made to adjust it into a more suitable position. Seline pulled the brim down as much as he dared without causing it to fall from the young man’s curly head.

A final glimpse towards the platform to make sure that they drew no unnecessary attention to themselves from Edwards. Joe was lifted down to the platform, held upright on both sides from Seline and Yeager.

If enquiries were made, the story was to be that the young man was still suffering from an injury that needed attending by a doctor. Although not strictly a lie, they hoped they would not have to elaborate further to anyone who became too curious.

Joe had made several more moans, perhaps as a result of his body’s protests at being moved, but Seline was pleased to see that the level of unconsciousness did not improve to any great degree during their cautious walk towards the taxi.

Although his feet were touching the ground, it was by the support of Seline and Yeager on either side that held Joe upright and prevented him from collapsing.

One woman had looked their way in concern, probably in motherly concern at seeing such a young man having to be physically escorted. But a charming smile from Seline ensured that she made no comment and no attempt to approach him to extend her assistance.

Bonnie was nervously pacing back and forth beside a taxi, just as she had been instructed. She tried to remove her emotions from the situations and not show any deliberate concerns about the manner in which he was being transported.

The taxi driver had only taken an interest upon seeing his intended passengers and noting that one needed a great deal of assistance.

“He not being sick now is he?” the driver asked, his accent strong.

“No,” Seline replied curtly, clearly getting impatient. “My assistant will tell you where we need to go. And please don’t stop to look at the scenery,” he added, signaling for Edwards to climb up alongside the driver to give directions.

Within a few minutes, Seline, Bonnie and Yeager had bundled the semi-conscious Joe Cartwright into the taxi and were slowly making their way towards the paddle steamer that had been made ready.

Bonnie kept a close eye on Joe Cartwright’s vital signs during the journey, noting that his shirt was beginning to stick to his skin. She reached over and felt his brow in concern, Joe moaning at the sudden touch, and leaning into the fresh coolness that his body felt.

“His temperature is up a little again,” Bonnie remarked to Seline. “Probably only from moving him from the train so quickly,” she reasoned. She hoped that was all it was.

The journey to the boat was only a short one, but Seline seemed uneasy through it all, wondering if he had taken care of everything enough to cover up what he was attempting to do. It was the number of people at the train station that bothered him the most.

Bonnie was startled by the grandeur of the paddle steamer as she followed Edwards and Yeager, carrying Joe Cartwright to one of the rooms onboard. The furnishings were very luxurious and the fittings stylish. The interior of the rooms would have rivaled that of any of the fine hotels in the area.

Seline had clearly gone to a lot of trouble and expense to set up this elaborate hoax and until this moment, perhaps Bonnie had truly not understood how much he was prepared to gamble to see his desired outcome.

Edwards and Yeager were suitably impressed also by their surroundings, but neither make any comment as they laid Cartwright on the large bedspread. Seline had specifically picked this room for the young man. Being central to a lot of other areas of the boat, it should be fairly easy to track his movements during his captivity.

“Help her to get him settled into bed. I am going to find the doctor to look him over,” Seline stated.

Bonnie would have rather not have the two men in the room, but did not wish to voice any objections, knowing that Seline may not take so kindly to her petty reasons.

Once Seline had departed the boat, she had used them to help take off his boots, trousers and sweat soaked shirt, but had then told them she could handle the rest of his care on her own.

Edwards and Yeager did not push the matter and left her to tend to the young man until the doctor returned.

Bonnie found most of the items she needed within a short space of time, and went about bathing Joe’s chest in tepid water. She wanted to wash his sweaty body before dressing him a fresh shirt, but also relieve the fever that had flared from being moved from the train.

As she bathed him, Bonnie looked at his young face, and wondered what Seline had in store for this young man. She had yet to learn anything about him. He looked to be someone who enjoyed life, and no doubt could use his handsome face to make friends and go places.

Her train of thought about Joe Cartwright was cut abruptly short as Seline re-entered the room, this time with a doctor carrying a bag containing the tools of his trade.

Bonnie stood up and moved the basin of water away to allow the doctor access to his patient. The doctor was tall and thin, very different in appearance to the doctor that she had seen in San Francisco. His face was devoid of emotion and his features unreadable.

Placing his bag on a nearby table, he began to examine the unconscious man. He did not speak as he lifted the closed eyelids. His mannerisms were very practiced and accurate, but looked too clinical and unfriendly to Bonnie’s eyes.

The doctor had barely enough time to do the basic checks on Joe, when Seline
began demanding to know how the patient was.

"Can you give me an accurate prognosis of his condition?" Seline asked, pacing nervously back and forth, knowing that the outcome of his entire plan was in the balance.

The thin doctor, leaned over his patient and lifted an eyelid once more, ignoring the pressure to be quicker in his assessment. The pupil inside reacted sluggishly to the small amount of invading light. He allowed the eye to close before moving his attention to the young man's head. He could immediately see the tell tale signs from the fresh injury sustained. There was an amount of bruising, but perhaps fortunately for the patient, no open gash as had occurred the first time.

"There is some bruising here," the doctor pointed out, voicing his observations to Seline. "It is not as bad as the previous blow that you can see here. But that doesn't mean that the impact will be any less. Considering that the first blow was quite severe in itself and you mentioned about the bouts of dizziness and nausea that Miss Bonnie witnessed."

During his examination, Joe showed no signs of waking, or reacting to any of the doctor's probing of his injuries.

"When is he going to wake up?" Seline asked, his tone of voice revealing his growing agitation.

"There is no way to tell. That is individual with every patient. Some I have known recover with little evidence of their injury at all. Then there are some that awaken, but their personalities are completely changed from who they were before. They find themselves unable to relate to family and friends as they did before," the doctor explained.

"I don't want to know about every other patient you have ever seen," Seline declared hotly. "I want to know about this young man."

The doctor was becoming increasing annoyed with Seline's stand over tactics, and was not about to be intimidated, "Then there are those few patients that never wake up," he said with emphasis.

"I am the one that hired you, doctor!" Seline said, his anger now becoming apparent.

"Yes, and I doubt that you could find another one in New Orleans who would be willing to carry out what you have asked of me. You have instructed me to tend to this patient and give you my diagnosis as to his recovery and the length of time it may take. I have given you that as best I can. It is too early to see what other effects of the injuries he may have until he wakes up and I am able to speak to him," the doctor replied, calmly but in a stern tone of voice.

Seline now turned towards the back of the room, "Bonnie, get over here so this over priced quack can tell you what you need to do to keep Cartwright alive until he wakes up."

Edward and Yeager both flinched and were just as surprised as Bonnie about the ferocity of Seline's tone of voice. The girl timidly walked closer towards the bed, not wanting to cause the man's anger to turn upon her.

The doctor ignored Seline's outburst, but instead turned his attention to speaking to the girl whom was placed in charge of the young man's medical care. "For now, and over the next few days, you had better keep a close eye on him for any signs of waking up." Bonnie nodded her head, but did not interrupt the doctor's instructions.

"When he does wake," he began, making sure that Seline was listing to his statement as well, subtly letting the man know that he thought young Cartwright would regain consciousness at some stage. "Be sure and note any increase in his temperature. If he develops a fever, you might need to use damp cloths to bath him with tepid water."

"What do I do if his temperature becomes too high?" Bonnie asked, worried that she would not be able to cope with such a situation if the young man's health declined.

"I will be here regularly to begin with, at least over the coming week. If any fever is going to occur, it should show up during that time. If his temperature gets too high, then we may have to fully submerse him in a bath of cool water, but that is a rather drastic measure to take, and it may do more harm than good. His body could go into shock, unable to cope with the extremes of heat and cold," the doctor replied.

"Should he be given food or any drink when he does wake?" Bonnie enquired.

"Keep up his water intake going as much as possible now, especially if his temperature does start to go up. When he wakes he probably won't be interested in eating very much, but a light broth could be given, with a little extra salt."

"There isn't much you can do physically for his head wound. It is bruising mostly, though the extent of any internal damage is yet to be seen. No doubt you might find he experiences some bouts of sever dizziness and nausea as he did in San Francisco. He might develop bad headaches as a result of the blows that were inflicted. I will give you some mild pain pills when this happens, but for the moment I do not want him taking any sedative until I am convinced that there are no complications with his injuries," the doctor informed Bonnie.

"Alright, that should be enough for now. You said yourself that you will be back tomorrow, so she should be able to keep him alive until then. He isn't a baby and I don't intend wrapping him up in cotton wool. I need him awake for when Ben Cartwright gets here and can see for himself that his beloved youngest son no longer has any loyalty towards him," Seline interrupted, cutting the doctor's visit to as short as possible.

"Don't forget my fee when I come back tomorrow," the doctor remarked. "A little higher than you would like to pay I suspect, but you get what you pay for in this world nowadays."

"You will get paid doctor," Seline said curtly, though he had a good mind to shoot the doctor and be done with it. The doctor in San Francisco had not been as nearly so condescending and he had met an untimely fate.

Bonnie could see the now would not be a good time to cross Seline’s path. She would hold her tongue and do as she had been told, and look after the Joseph Cartwright.

“Edward, Yeager, come with me, we have some things to discuss,” Seline snarled. His tone of voice certainly left no doubt, and he did not wait to see if they hesitated or not before following him to another part of the paddle boat.

************************************************************************************************

Bonnie looked down at her patient after everyone had left, and wondered how best to help him apart from seeing to his medical needs. They needed for him to wake to be able to assess how he felt.

Preparing a basin of water, and testing the temperature with her fingertips before sitting beside the bed, the young woman dabbed a soft cloth into the water and then as gently as she dared, began to gently touch it to Joe’s face.

She hoped it would do two things, one, help bring him back towards consciousness, and secondly, it would clean the area directly surrounding his head wound that was bruised and swollen. She didn’t dare put any pressure into her actions, but softly washed away the dried blood stains that were present.

After a few minutes, Bonnie was rewarded for her efforts with a low moan from Joe. She stopped her actions, waiting to see if the young man was trying waking up or only in protest about the pain from his wound that she had been carefully trying to clean.

Joe eyelids fluttered a number of times, indicating that he was trying to wake, but finding it difficult. Silently she was urging him to wake so that she could try and determine how badly he had been affected by the second blow to his head.

The young man lifted his hand to his temple, as though trying to show where he was feeling the most pain. His movements were somewhat slow and cumbersome, but Bonnie thought this might be a symptom of the head injury or due to his prolonged period of unconsciousness.

The hand lost its momentum, but rather than returning to his side, it came to rest on his chest. Bonnie looked at the door to the room, hoping that Seline or one of the other men were not about to walk into the room and see what she was intending on doing.

Bonnie lifted the young man’s hand and began massaging the fingertips and joints between her own to try and induced a more alert response.

Joe felt like he was swimming against a never ending tide of black that seemed to surround him on all sides. For a brief moment the black mass seemed to clear a little and he thought he saw a strange and distant light before him. He didn't know where the light led to and he really didn't know if he wanted to go towards it.

“Come on now, I know you can here me,” Bonnie said softly. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

The fluttering of his eyelids continued, but she could now see that he was making a more determined effort to open his eyes at hearing a voice beside him.

“I know you can do it,” she encouraged.

The young man finally managed to open his eyes a little, and glance back at the person speaking to her. But what frightened her the most was the lack of reaction that she saw in his lovely green eyes.

His brow began turning into a frown, and although she put it down to the pain he was experiencing from his injury, a small part of her could see the confusion in his gaze.

Joe tried to move his head from side to side, as though trying to clear the image before him and make more sense of what he was seeing. This only resulted in the headache that was present, reigniting with avengence. So much so that he moaned deep and low in his throat at the sudden wave that assaulted him.

He closed his eyes again briefly, waiting for the spasm of pain to abate to a more tolerable level. It did not ease much, but he willed himself to open his eyes again and make more sense of his surroundings.

“Here, let me get you a drink of water,” Bonnie said, a little unsure about she should be doing. She retrieved a small glass of water and helped the young man to sit up enough to drink from the glass. He didn’t offer any word of thanks, but his eyes remained on her, even as she crossed the room to refill the glass from the pitcher.

Bonnie knew that Seline would want to know the minute he was awake, but part of her wanted to allow him time to adjust in his new environment before he was subjected to Seline’s presence.

She looked about the room and wondered what to do next. Part of her chastising herself for falling apart slightly, knowing that she had been in much more difficult circumstances before and able to display strength. She didn’t know why this time was different, or why this young man’s well-being seemed to be a high priority for her.

“You must be hungry?” Bonnie asked, knowing that he had not eaten any full meals for a few days. She had been able to feed him some nourishing broth before leaving San Francisco, but that would not have sustained him until now.

Bonnie was waiting for him to answer, but instead he only gave a small nod in answer to her question. She was glad that at least they had found common ground.

She was fortunate enough to have some food ready a short time ago. Bonnie had tried to adhere to the doctor’s suggestions and requested the light broth with extra salt. It had quickly cooled away from the paddleboat’s kitchen, but it was still warm enough for her patient.

Bonnie helped Joe sit upright a little more before seating herself on the chair again, ready to spoon the soup to him. Placing some on the spoon, she held it close to his mouth, waiting for him to sip at the liquid.

“It is good,” Bonnie said, trying to reassure him, but noting that he made no attempt at opening his mouth. She was surprised when he lifted his own hand, trying to take the utensil from her hand.

“Are you sure you are strong enough to do it on your own?” Bonnie asked. He did not answer, but persisted in trying to handle the spoon. “Alright, here you are.”

The young man took the spoon, spilling some of the contents, but shakily drawing the spoon to his mouth and drinking the small amount of soup that remained. Still he never said a word, and his gaze was still focused on the young woman helping him.

For the next few minutes, Bonnie held the plate for the young man who took a few mouthfuls of the soup, spilling a little each time due to the unsteadiness of his hand. At one point he had tried to hold the plate too, but a stern look from her and a forceful hold on the bowl and he had unsuccessful in getting her to let go.

Part of Bonnie was pleased that he was showing such a stubborn streak after waking from a serious head injury. But she could see that his body was far from healed and that he would still need a good deal of rest and good food to see him well on the road to recovery.

After the sixth spoonful, the young man’s hand trembled from fatigue and he allowed the spoon to sink back into the soup. Bonnie offered to help him some more if he was still hungry, but he had turned his head away, indicating that he would not let her feed him.

Bonnie got up and put the bowl to one side briefly, before helping him to lay down once more in the bed. His eyes grew tired and began to droop. With a heavy sigh and a wince from the pain in his head, he allowed his eyes to close and faded off to sleep.

Bonnie knew that Seline would want to know about Joe waking and eating a little, but decided against it. The young man had been coherent enough to be stubborn about his eating, but still weak from his injuries and the past week of tiring travel.

She could tell Seline the next time he woke. The doctor would be back tomorrow. For the moment, she had enough compassion to allow him to sleep.

For the next few hours, Bonnie kept her constant vigil beside the young Cartwright’s bedside. At times she found herself dozing in the chair due to the tiredness she was feeling, but she didn’t dare ask one of the other men to take her place.

She had pondered what the next few days might hold in store for their young patient and themselves as Seline carefully put his plans into place. She would be rewarded almost immediately though, as Seline now came into the room.

“Not awake yet?” the man said, seeing for himself that Joe was sleeping on the bed.

“No, but his condition has not deteriorated any since this morning, which is a good thing,” Bonnie commented.

“A fortunate thing indeed,” Seline responded, though there was no feeling in his words. “I wish to speak to you and the men together for a time. There needs to be cohesion to our story for when Mr Cartwright does regain consciousness and when he begins to ask questions.”

“But the doctor said not to leave him on his own, especially with his head injury,” Bonnie said, hoping that she didn’t have to hear what the man was planning against Ben Cartwright.

“The young man seems comfortable enough to me,” Seline remarked, barely turning his head to see if his statement were correct. “I shall not waste much of your time, but I need for you to be able to regurgitate some of the background information that I have drawn up about how he comes to be here and his connection to this boat.”

Bonnie could see that Seline had no intention of leaving her out of these necessary discussions, and taking a look at her patient and noting that his sleep seemed peaceful enough for now. She reluctantly went towards the door, intending to follow her employer. Somehow she would have to put on a convincing mask and be a involved in this colourful charade.

Bonnie watched as Seline closed the door behind her, and then deliberately allowed her to see him locking the door from the outside. Joe Cartwright was to remain his prisoner and he was not about to take any risks.

**************************************************************

It was about half an hour after Bonnie had left the room, and late in the afternoon, when the young man began to show signs of waking.

The world was coming back to Joe very slowly. He couldn’t tell if he was still asleep or awake, somewhere in between he guessed. On that higher plateau between consciousness and being unaware of one’s surroundings.

He tried to let the gray veil lift a little before trying to think any more. His head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton wool and everything around him felt incredibly heavy. He was still trying to figure out where he was and why and why the hell he hurt so bad.

Try and think of simple things first he pointed out to himself. First, what is your name? His mind was totally blank. Inwardly he frowned and tried to concentrate harder on remembering something so easy as his own first name. He panicked a little but tried to calm himself down by thinking of an alternative question that would hopefully allow the answer to the first one to pop in his head at any moment.

Where are you? asking the second question. Again no answer came, only more confusion and anxiety. When he forced himself to take a breath and think of where he last remembered, all he could see was a bright light.

I don’t know who I am he said out loud to himself and immediately snapped open his eyes to look around at where he was. The panic in him started to rise to the surface again as he fought to keep control of his fear.

I don’t know who I am he repeated, allowing his eyes to settle on the room be found himself laying in. There was no-one else in the room, and there was no recognition or familiarity of his surroundings.

Joe tried desperately to think of who he was but still, the answer didn’t come and his head now began to throb from the efforts of remembering. He put a hand up to the area where he thought the pain was coming from, and winced, withdrawing his fingers as he felt where he had been struck.

As Joe opened his eyes a little more, he could hear voices talking to him. They spoke to him, but he did not understand their words, the sounds reminding him of people talking while he used to swim underwater.

Joe forced his body upright on the bed and lowered his legs over the bed, preparing for his feet to touch the floor. He kept telling himself that if got up and began walking around, he might be able to clear the cloudiness of his head and remember who he was and where he was.

With his back turned towards the door, and his concentration centred on the dizziness that was assaulting his sense of balance. The room pitched to and fro and he had to swallow many times to keep from vomiting. His legs were visibly trembling and, much to his chagrin, the dizziness began to get worse, threatening to betray his body and send him back into the oblivion he had just awoken from.

From behind………..

"What in the world are you doing out of bed!!" came a thunderous cry from behind startling Joe badly. He grappled for the edge of the bed clothes and was barely able to keep from spilling onto the fall.

Because his back was towards the people in the doorway, Joe did not see Bonnie whisper to Seline.

“Remember what you said…….,” Bonnie warned.

A grimace seemed to work its way across Seline’s face briefly. His look of disdain obvious to the girl, but quickly replaced by that of someone with concern for the young man’s welfare.

The elaborate charade that Seline had to carefully laid out and put together, was about to be tested.

Joe vaguely felt hands trying to help him stand, and with his legs still trembling slightly and his confusion growing, he found himself laying back on the bed.

“Are you alright, Joseph?” Seline asked, his voice seemingly full of concern.
Seline had released his hold on the young man once the bed was underneath him.

Joe could hear a voice talking to him, and he lifted his head in response.

“You have had a nasty blow to the head, Joe. You need to rest until the doctor
says you have healed enough to get out of bed,” Seline comments, noting the confusion on the young man’s face, and doubting if any of what he was saying was being taken in.

“W-who…..,” Joe began, his voice barely audible, and his thoughts not coherent enough to complete the sentence.

Seline didn’t know whether the young man was asking about his own name or not.

“Your name is Joseph. Joseph Dubois. Do you remember?” Seline asked, inwardly smiling at the reaction Ben Cartwright would have at his son’s sudden change of surname.

Joe didn’t respond right away, and Seline was about to ask the question a second time, when the young man shook his head in a negative answer. Anybody not paying attention would have missed the action entirely.

Watching from the side of the bed, Bonnie couldn’t help but notice the apprehension on Joe’s face and the lack of recognition of his own Christian name, even after being prompted.

“It doesn’t matter for now, Joseph. The most important thing now is to get you better and then we can work on you remembering who you are,” Seline said, playing his role to perfection.

“Bonnie will get you a little more comfortable and then get you something to eat, and then we can get the doctor to take another look at you.” Seline commented, moving towards the door and preparing to leave the room.

Joe turned his head towards the young woman, but he didn’t remember who she was either. Her expression was one of sympathy towards him and she gave him a small smile.

Seline was about to close the door behind him, when he decided it was best to plant the seed of doubt earlier, rather than later.

“By the way, Joseph. I know it is difficult for you to remember who you are, but we will take good care of you, son.”

Seline left before any questions formed on the boy’s lips.

Joe’s brow furrow at the mention of the word “son”, but he didn’t know he fully comprehended what was being said to him. Was the man who left the room his father? Why couldn’t he remember who he was. Why couldn’t he remember who these people were?

His stomach growled, telling him that the idea of a meal was a good one. Bonnie went to prepare a tray for him, promising to be back in a few minutes.

During her brief absence Joe leaned back against the pillow and closed his eyes, a combination of the pain from his head and the frustration of not knowing who he or anybody else was.

****************************************************

Once the train pulled out of the station, Adam and Hoss found themselves in a similar position to the one they had been when travelling on the stage coach. Their father was worried and desperate for news about his youngest son.

Neither of them could think of the right words to say, but knew they would be there to support their father and help in anyway they could. They were worried about their brother Joe and what could be happening to him when they always seemed to be a step behind his movements.

The train had pulled out of the station, and fortunately for the Cartwright family, it was a little less crowded than when Seline and his party had travelled on it.

Ben sat with opposite his sons, so that he was not facing any of the other few remaining passengers. Adam watched his father’s facial expressions, noticing the tightening of his grip on the brim of Joe’s hat.

The hat had been discovered at the train station on pure chance, but Ben held onto it, somehow seeking to reconnect with Joseph. It wasn’t until Ben turned it over, examining it more closely that he found a darkened stain on the inside.

“Adam, Hoss, look at this!” Ben exclaimed, showing them the upturned hat, and pointing to the stain. All three drawing the same conclusion that the stain was most likely blood. It was a dark rusty colour, again the much lighter material inside.

The stain was dry, so there was no real way of knowing how long it had been there. Ben was convinced it had not been there when Joe had left the Ponderosa.

“What do you think, Pa?” Hoss asked cautiously. “You think that Little Joe is laying hurt somewhere?”

“I don’t know Hoss. There are too many possibilities. It has only been by luck that we are even on this train to begin with. Joe’s hat was at the train station, but anything else that might have happened is pure speculation.”

“Do you think we should ask the driver if he remembers seeing Joe at all?” Adam suggested.

“I don’t know, but I guess it is worth a try. We have no other clues apart from this train?” Ben said, his voice sounding dejected.

“Conductor!” Adam said to a man approaching the part of the carriage where they were sitting. He was wearing a navy blue uniform and wore a hat that identified him as part of the staff aboard the train.

“Can I help you, Sir?” the man asked. “Do you have your tickets please?”

Adam handed over the three tickets that had been purchased, the conductor looking at them and then back at the Cartwrights, seemingly satisfied.

“I was wondering if you could tell me, you see we are looking for my son and we have reason to believe that he may have travelled on this very train before,” Ben interjected before Adam could ask to talk to the driver.

With the conductor standing in front of them, none of them noticed a middle-aged lady sitting on the opposite aisle, being able to hear the conversation that was taking place.

“Is he travelling here on the train with you today, Sirs?” the conductor asked, looking for another younger passenger he may have missed for ticket inspection.

“No, you don’t understand,” Hoss stated. “Joe ain’t here with us today. But
we think he might have been on this train a couple of days ago?”

“He is not with you here?” the conductor remarked, appearing more confused.

“My name is Ben. Ben Cartwright. These two men are my son’s Adam and Hoss. We are on this train looking for my youngest son Joseph.”

“How do you know he was on this train?” the conductor asked. By now Adam and Hoss had deemed the man to be a slow learner, hampering their need for information that might help find Joe.

“You see, we found his hat at the ticket office back at the train station,” Ben continued the story.

“Excuse me gentlemen,” a voice said from behind the conductor. The man turned, enabling the Cartwrights to see the middle-aged woman who was addressing them.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt and of course I didn’t mean to overhear what was being said, but I couldn’t help but notice you said something about a young man named Joseph.”

The fact that the woman called Joe by his name caught the Cartwright’s attention immediately. Ben turned to face her and was keenly listening to anything she might have to say.

The woman was well-dressed Ben wanted to be sure that he didn’t scare away the one witness who claimed to have seen his missing son recently.

“My name is Benjamin Cartwright, ma’am. I am from Nevada territory, travelling with my two son’s Hoss and Adam,” the Patriarch said as he introduced his sons to the woman.

“My name is Mrs Estella Ruby Martha Hopkins. My husband is a very important man you know. Stewart Hopkins, perhaps you have heard of him?” the woman commented with pride in her voice.

“My apologies, but I am relatively new to this area,” Ben replied. The woman seemed a little perturbed that her husband’s importance had not been noticed, and most of all her own name.

“Can you start at the beginning please ma’am,” Adam asked, hoping their might be further clues about who had taken Joe and where they had taken him to.

The woman appeared happy enough to oblige and seemed to take particular pride in telling the men how unjustly she had been dealt with by the young porter a few days before:

“Well, you know it all started with that young man at the train station,” the woman began.

“You mean the porter at the ticket office, ma’am?” Hoss interrupted, trying to put a face to people the woman was mentioning.

“That young man needs a good talking to. They only thing he had eyes for on the morning I spoke to him, was for the pretty young woman in another compartment,” Mrs Hopkins scoffed.

“Can you describe the young woman, ma’am,” Adam asked, hoping for more clues. He and Ben exchanged glances when the woman began to describe the same woman that had been described in San Francisco in the stage coach by the young police officer.

“More than a coincidence, wouldn’t you say, Pa,” Hoss remarked. Ben nodded his head in agreement, but continued to listen to Mrs Hopkins story.

“I had asked for a seat in the upper-class carriage. They have sleeping quarters you know,” the woman explained, her voice changing to note the unsatisfactory treatment she had received. “But that ticket man refused to note my husband’s status and told me that the entire compartment had already been booked out.”

“The whole compartment?” Ben asked, his curiosity quirked, thinking that this could mean quite a number of people.

“Well, I didn’t see anyone at all, he told me that they were already aboard. Sounded all very suspicious to me. I even told him that I was going to make a complaint to the Station Master,” Mrs Hopkins answered. “And I will too,” she added, as though just remembering what she had said to Harvey Reynolds that day.

“Did you see a young man, possibly wearing a hat that looked like this?” Ben probed, holding out Joe’s hat for the woman to inspect.

The woman looked briefly at it, but took a disinterest in such things. She began commenting to the woman sitting next to her about a new subject of conversation, “You know that young people today just show enough respect.”

“Please ma’am, my son Joseph is missing, and we are desperately seeking information about him,” Ben pleaded, his voice showing his exasperation at the woman’s self-interest and focus on what she had witnessed.

The woman stopped in mid-sentence, looking at Ben for a moment, and noting the genuineness of his face. She noted there were signs of weary on the gentleman’s face, her high and mighty attitude softening as she gauged the man was seeking information about a missing family member.

Adam could see that Ben’s words struck a cord, and tried to encourage the woman further, thinking a little of the truth would help the cause. “We have reason to believe that something has happened to my young brother. He might be travelling with those who would hurt him.”

“Oh dear!” the woman exclaimed, placing a hand over her mouth.

Ben and Adam exchanged brief glances, not knowing if revealing their suspicions about Joe’s kidnapping would hamper their efforts further, but Ben nodded slightly towards his eldest son in reassurance that the right methods were being employed.

“I apologize to you all, I didn’t know the matter was so urgent. I do remember that a young man stumbled into the carriage we were sitting in that day. At first I thought he must entered by mistake, but he barely walked to the first row of seats before I could see blood running down his face,” Estella said, pausing to think if she had noted anything else on the day.

“There was another man behind him, because I remember chastising him harshly about not watching someone who was injured enough on the train,” the woman continued.

“Did you see how the blood came to be on his face?” Adam asked grimly, the fresh information about Joe being injured of no comfort.

“No, but he seemed to be off-balance, and had tried to take hold of the seat to
stop himself from falling. He did fall on his knees, and I that is when those other men burst through the door and helped him up,” Mrs Hopkins recalled.

“The man admitted that the young man had injured himself a few days before
and that they were travelling to New Orleans for some medical treatment.”

“Do you remember how many of them there were, ma’am?” Hoss asked. The
information about New Orleans matched the destination of the train they were on.

“Possibly three. I can’t remember what they all looked like, but the first one………,” Mrs Hopkins replied, remembering what features she could. By the end of her description, Ben Cartwright was in no doubt that the man who had been on the train with his son was Marchant Seline.

“There was his father and two other men that helped the young man up,” Estella stated.”

“His father!” Ben said, the words barely escaping his lips. He could feel the anger in him rising, barely suppressed by his overall concern that Joe had been injured. He could almost physical pain in his heart that someone else would claim Joseph as their son.

Ben and Joe’s relationship ran deeper than any river, and was etched in stone.
A sacred bond that was built on trust and love and that should never be broken.

Ben now stood up, caught up in his own thoughts at such an outrageous statement. That Seline had taken Joseph in the first place from the people who loved him. But what he couldn’t believe was that Seline would have the audacity to call Joseph his son.

“Are you all right, Pa,” Adam asked, seeing that Ben was disturbed by this piece of news. It didn’t sit well on Hoss or himself either that someone would deliberately tell lies.

According to the woman’s statement, Joe was injured, probably concussed by the symptoms she had described. Seline had taken advantage of that at a time when Joe was more vulnerable, and would not have comprehended what was being said.

Estella could see Ben’s distress, having no idea that the man’s idle words at the time of her chastising him would not have been truthful. If she had known the young man was in danger or in the wrong company, perhaps she could have done more to help him.

“The man that was with him,” she began, he did say the young man’s name. She was trying to remember how the man had pronounced the surname. It was one she had not heard often. “He said his name was Joseph……………,” she told them, still mulling over the surname.

“Joseph……….,?” Ben prompted, knowing at least that the Christian name was right. This was the first real breakthrough they had had since San Fransisco and any details might help find him.

“Cartwright?” Adam suggested, hoping for his Pa’s sake that Seline had used his brother’s real name.

“No……. is started with D……..,” Mrs Hopkins remarked, her brow furrowing as she tried to pull the name from her memory.

“D?” Hoss commented, confused that Cartwright name had not been used.

Adam and Hoss looked at their father as he opened his mouth to speak. He sighed audibly, as though he wished he didn’t know the correct answer. But somehow they could see the pain on his face that said he did.

“Dubois,” Ben said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked down at Joe’s hat once more, as though trying to stem the flood of memories from coming back.

Mrs Hopkins answered a little too enthusiastically at the correct name, “Yes, that was it.” Her smile quickly faded as she realized that she had unknowingly caused pain again to this family.

Adam drew a hand down his face, knowing that a whole new can of worms had just been opened up. Hoss couldn’t help but ball his fists in anger, wanting to strike out at something.

Not only had their brother been kidnapped. They were now on their way by train to a city that held a lot of memories for their father, good and bad. Now they were being told that as a final insult to their father and the memory of Marie, that Joe had been given the name of his mother.

The Cartwright family had suspected that Seline must have been using standover tactics to force Joe to come with them. They had to admit that he was probably using even stronger methods.

Hoss now asked the question that Adam and Ben were both thinking. “How come Joe didn’t say anything about his name being different. Or about Seline being his Pa?”

“It does sound odd, Hoss,” Ben admitted. “But I don’t have any real answer now. He has been hurt, and maybe he didn’t hear Seline using his mother’s name or telling Mrs Hopkins that Joe was his son.”

Adam and Hoss agreed that this sounded the most plausible situation, given that Joe was bleeding at the time. He may have been only semi-conscious. Knowing their brother, he would not have welcomed the casual use of his mother’s name.

It was not a well known secret, but Joe’s memories of his mother and everything about her were treasured, and he could barely speak about her without feeling a sense of grief and loss.

“Thank you for your help, Mrs Hopkins,” Ben said, not being able to think straight for the revelations that he had just been told. “You have been most helpful.”

Mrs Hopkins reached over and briefly took Ben’s hand in her own, seeing his pain and wanting to offer what words of comfort she could, “I hope you find your son soon.”

Ben and his two sons retreated back to their own seats on the train, heavy with thoughts about what took place on the train that day and what might be happening to Joe now.

Ben knew of Seline’s affections for Marie, and that they had both known each other in New Orleans before she came to Nevada. He couldn’t help but think what irreparable damage Seline could do with false words about her or her family.

“Please help me find our boy, Marie my love,” Ben prayed silently.

TO BE CONTINUED………………………..

Hello,

I apologize for the length of time to update, but unfortunately I rarely have time to write at the moment and updates are very slow.

I hope you enjoy the story as it unfolds. Please let me know if you are still reading and enjoying.

JULES

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