THE SCAVENGER HUNT
by
Christy Gleason
Rated: G
Little Joe Cartwright hurled himself through the front door of the
ranch house at his usual speed—approximately sixty miles an
hour. "Hoss! Adam!" he cried out excitedly, banging the door shut
behind him.
"Joseph!" his father, Ben Cartwright, thundered. "How many
times do
I have to tell you to come into this house quietly?"
"Sorry, Pa," Joe said quickly. "By the way, here's the mail."
He
lobbed the packet at his father and turned away before he caught the
look of annoyance Ben sent his way as the letters practically clipped
his right ear. Joe's mind was already back on the news he wanted to
share with his brothers.
"Guess what?" he said excitedly.
Adam didn't even glance up from the book he was perusing. "I give
up," he said flatly, obviously disinterested.
"Aw, come on, Adam. This is great news. Hoss, you guess."
Hoss inhaled deeply. "We're having roast beef fer supper."
"Would you stop thinking about your stomach for two seconds? This
is
important."
"So's supper important."
"Not so important as this. Now, guess what they're doing in Virginia
City tomorrow at the Founder's Day Celebration."
Hoss looked annoyed. "Is that what you're on about? They're havin'
the same stuff they have every year. Races and firecrackers and a
picnic."
"Yeah, but guess what else they're having?"
"Pie-eatin' contest?" Hoss asked, hopefully.
"No, ya big galoot," Joe replied. "They're having a scavenger hunt."
"What's that?"
Adam looked up, showing a bit of interest for the first time since
Joe entered the house. "Scavenger hunt? We used to have those at
Harvard; they were a lot of fun." His smile turned slightly
roguish. "Sometimes we'd involve the local girls and I remember this
one time we were all scouring around trying to find…" Adam suddenly
caught the raised-eyebrow look his father was directing his way, and
broke off abruptly, flushing violently.
Joe and Hoss were listening avidly. "Trying to find what, Adam?"
Joe
asked with great interest.
Adam stared at his father. "Umm…we were trying to find a picnic
basket so that we could all have a meal in the park," he finished
lamely. "With lots of chaperones, of course." He smiled weakly.
"I see," Ben commented dryly.
"Well, I still don't understand what a scavenger hunt is," Hoss
remarked.
"Well, it says here that you have teams of three or four people and
you have to go all over town trying to find stuff. And the first
team that gets all the stuff wins. And best of all there's prize
money. 500 dollars!"
"500 dollars! Wow, if all four of us make a team that'd be…umm…"
"100 dollars a piece," Joe supplied. "And an extra 100 for
me, since
I found out about it!"
"Hey. That ain't right," Hoss glowered. "Not `less'n you're
planning t' do more than your share of the findin'."
"That would be the first time in his life he ever did more than his
share of anything," Adam commented cheerfully. "Except drinking
and
chasing girls, of course."
"If you're doing it, you'll split the money equally," Ben said
pointedly. "And you can just count me out. Unlike some members of
this family, I don't have any interest in making a fool out of myself
in front of the entire town."
"How're we gonna make fools out of ourselves, Pa? We're just going
to go into town, find everything on our list, and then win our
money. Nothing to it," Joe pointed out.
"Well that's certainly the way normal young men would go about it.
But then, we're not talking about normal young men, are we? We're
talking about you three."
"Pa!" Joe said reproachfully. "When have we ever done anything
to
embarrass you?"
Ben thought of the many oddball schemes his offspring had initiated
and slowly shook his head.
*******
The teams for the scavenger hunt were lined up outside the sheriff's
office, as Roy Coffee was acting as the official Hunt Judge.
"Now in a moment, each team will be given their copy of the scavenger
list," Roy intoned importantly. "All items must be found in public
areas of the town. No items are allowed to come from inside homes or
off private property. Nor are you allowed to purchase any item. When
you finish your list, bring your items back to me. The first team to
gather together all thirty items on the list wins. Any questions?
All right then. On your mark, get set, GO!"
Roy shot his handgun into the air, and the teams were off.
Adam took the Cartwrights' list and tore it neatly into three
pieces. "Here, each of us take one part and we'll split up. That
way we'll cover more ground."
The boys grinned farewell at one another, each taking his section of
the list, and sprinting away.
Joe read the first item. Beer stein. That was easy enough. He
headed over to The Silver Dollar and looked around outside.
Unfortunately, for once no one was drinking outside the saloon, nor
had they left any empty steins on the ground. Joe knew he wasn't
allowed to use anything from inside. Thinking quickly, he darted in.
"Hey Sam!" Joe greeted the barkeep.
"Little Joe. What are you up to?"
"Just looking around. Say, who's that fella over there?" Joe
pointed at a grizzled-looking man standing at the far end of the bar.
"Never seen him before. Probably a prospector."
"Prospector, huh?" Joe wandered down the bar.
"Hey Friend," he greeted the wizened old man.
The man nodded back.
"You a prospector?" Joe asked.
"What's it to you, Kid?"
"Well, I was just thinking, that if you were, we could make us a
deal. See, I have a claim, but I'm not so good at mining. I was
just thinking that if you'd work it for me, we could split the
proceeds."
The man looked skeptically at Joe. "Why me?"
"Well, why not you?" Joe asked reasonably, his most affable smile
pasted to his face. "I tell you what, come on outside and I'll point
out to you where it is. Then you can decide if you want to work with
me."
The old man scratched his head, took a slug of his beer and
shrugged. It was worth a look at least, he supposed. And the boy
didn't look particularly harmful.
He followed Joe out of the saloon, beer in hand, and stood on the
wood sidewalk. "So which way is this claim of yourn?"
Joe pointed down the street in a vague sort of way.
"Well, where?" the man asked.
"Right over there. You need to shade your eyes. Here, let me hold
your beer, and you look over towards that mountain, and you'll see
the mine entrance."
Joe solicitously held the stein for the man as he strained his desert-
faded eyes to see the claim Joe had indicated. The man shook his
head. "I just can't see it, boy. Where…" He turned back around
just in time to see Joe disappearing rapidly around the corner, beer
stein held to his lips as he drained the rest of the old man's beer.
One item down, Joe told himself proudly. Nine to go.
******
Adam read the next item on his list and groaned. The first three had
been easy. He always carried a pocketknife, he happened to have a
silver dollar on him, and he'd found a discarded envelope outside the
telegraph office. But where on earth was he supposed to get a
hatpin? Too bad he couldn't just buy one, he thought in irritation.
"Well if it isn't Adam Cartwright."
Adam turned to see who had called his name and flinched
involuntarily. "Miss Jones."
"Whatever are you doing loitering around outside my house?"
"I was just, umm, passing by…" Adam smiled solicitously as he
attempted to sidle away.
"Now don't go rushing off so quickly." Abigail opened the gate
and
stepped through, ending up closer to Adam than he felt comfortable
with. He preferred an acre or two of land between them. He took a
step back.
Abigail smiled. "Always so shy. Just who are you sitting with at
the picnic today, Adam?"
Adam opened his mouth to say the first female name he could think
of. Unfortunately nothing came out. He shut his mouth again.
Miss Abigail's eyes lit up. "Now you mustn't be so bashful. Go
ahead and ask, Adam, since that's clearly what you came for. I
guarantee you won't be disappointed."
Adam was just about to attempt fleeing when his eyes caught on the
jewel in her hat. "Miss Jones…"
"Yes, Adam?"
"Is that a hatpin?"
It wasn't the question she'd been expecting. "I beg your pardon?"
"In your hat. Is that a hatpin?"
"Oh. Why yes. Yes it is."
"It's, umm, very becoming."
Abigail inched closer. "Why thank you, Adam. I'm so very glad you
like it."
"Miss Abigail…?"
"Yes, Adam?"
"I wonder if I might…"
"Yes, Adam?"
Adam bit the bullet. "I wonder if I might borrow your hatpin…?"
Miss Abigail looked at him doubtfully. "You want my hatpin, Adam?"
Adam began to sweat. "Yes ma'am. You know, as sort of a momento…"
Abigail's face broke out into a grand smile. "Why Adam. How on
earth could I forget what a romantic you are?" She carefully removed
the hatpin and handed it to him staring up into his eyes. "I'll see
you at the picnic, then, won't I, Adam?"
Adam coughed violently and made a mad dash away, waving goodbye. No
amount of money was worth this, he told himself sternly. Never, ever
listen to Joe again!
*******
Hoss huffed to himself as he read the last item. Now where in
tarnation am I s'pose to get me a toy wagon, he thought desperately.
He trotted quickly to the school yard, but with school out for
Founder's Day, there were no children to be seen, and hence , no
children's toys.
"Dadburnit," he said aloud.
Just then he heard the unmistakable sound of childhood laughter.
Hoss' eyes lit up, and he rapidly followed his ears. Around the
corner he came across the very welcome sight of at least a dozen of
the local children involved in various games, and four, he noted with
unmitigated delight, riding in an oversized child's wagon.
"Mr Hoss!" the children cried, practically in unison. All the
Cartwrights were well-known and liked among Virginia City's youngest
citizens, but Hoss, with his outgoing, playful nature, was
particularly well-loved.
Hoss waved a friendly hello at the urchins and proceeded over to the
four with the wagon.
"Say," he began, "how'd you fellers like me t'pull you in
that there
wagon?"
A wild whoop went up from the kids. Suddenly the cart was filled to
overflowing with more children than one would have thought possible.
"You kids ready?" Hoss asked. "All right then. Hold on,
and here we
go!"
He took off at a quick run, children holding on for dear life, others
falling unnoticed on the wayside as they made their way down the
street.
I'm a-comin', Hoss thought to himself. Adam, Joe, you two are just
going to be so proud of me!
******
Roy stood among the ever-growing crowd of highly-upset
citizens. "Now if you folks'll just calm down and tell me what in
tarnation you all are talking about, I could get to the bottom of all
this."
"I've been robbed…"
"My baby's missing…"
"It's them Cartwright boys what done it…"
Just then a shout rose above the cacophony. "Here they come!
Get `em, Boys!"
The crowd turned as one and looked in time to see Adam, Hoss, and
Little Joe all running down the street from different directions,
their arms full of items. Hoss caused the most commotion, as he was
pulling a wagon, still bearing three bedraggled children with others,
covered in dirt and dust, running behind.
Unmindful of the crowd, the Cartwrights made their way quickly
towards the sheriff.
"We're done, Roy!" Joe called out happily. "We got all the
stuff."
He was surprised as someone suddenly grabbed him by the collar and
yanked him around, pulling back to land a crisp one right in his
face. Fortunately, Adam saw the movement and grabbed the man,
throwing him to the ground. But it was clear that the ugly mood of
the crowd was turning violent.
Roy shook his head and then pointed to each of the
Cartwrights. "You, you, and you…inside, right now. Until I figure
all this out, I'm locking you up."
*****
Ben stood at Roy's side outside the cell, his face like a
thundercloud as he stared at his three locked-up sons.
"Well?" he asked, his voice deceptively quiet. "Just what
has been
going on here?"
Joe smiled. "Just a simple scavenger hunt, Pa. Nothing more than
that."
"I see. Then perhaps you'd like to explain why you've been locked
up
for robbery, theft, and kidnapping?"
The three boys looked at each other to see which of them was going to
be pushed into the unwelcome position of official spokesman. Adam
sighed as he saw his brothers looking at him longingly.
"Well, it's like this, Pa…"
"Yes?"
"Well, some people don't take kindly to losing at games, so they have
to come up with silly accusations to besmirch others' good names and
reputations."
"Is that right? And which of you three has a good reputation, pray
tell?"
Adam cleared his throat and fell silent.
"Give me the list of items," Ben said in a cold voice.
Three hands reached through the bars, each bearing one section of the
paper. Ben took them, staring deliberately at each of the boys, and
then looked the list over.
"Beer stein," he read aloud.
Joe sheepishly handed the stein through the bars.
"Slate pencil…bucket…spool of thread…old boot…toy soldier…length of
rope… bridle…curry brush…and…"
Ben broke off, holding all the items that Joe had silently handed
him. "Lady's petticoat?" he asked horrified.
Joe produced the item with an exaggerated flourish that Ben did not
appear to appreciate.
"Just where did you get that?" he barked.
Joe opened his mouth to answer.
"Never mind. I think I'd rather not know. Now, this appears to be
Adam's list. Let's see. Pocketknife…silver dollar…envelope…
hatpin…? "
Adam shrugged noncommittally as he handed his loot over.
"Tea cup…apple pie…fork…ribbon…bullet…canteen." Ben glared at
his
son, who promptly turned and looked pointedly out the window.
"Now then. Hoss. Telegram…hat…spur…book…lace edging…slate board…
empty whiskey bottle…cigar butt…button horn…and toy wagon."
Ben added the items to the growing pile at his feet. "I assume that
the wagon out front with the pile of children in it is your final
contribution?"
"Yessir, Pa."
"Well then. Now that we have all the treasure, perhaps you'd like
to
explain why there are numerous accounts of pilfering of items from
all over town, as well as, Hoss, eight counts against you of
kidnapping?"
"Kidnapping? Pa, I was just givin' them little shavers a ride on
that there wagon…"
"THEIR wagon, I believe?"
"Well, Pa, I was just sorta borrowin' it fer a bit…"
"That's right, Pa. Just like I was just borrowing that beer glass
and that bucket and curry brush and…"
"And I was borrowing the hatpin and the pie and the…"
"That's ENOUGH!"
"Now, the Sheriff here has decided on a punishment. He feels that
the good folk of the town will be happy with their items back, as
well as a small remuneration for the RENTING of the items. In
addition, there will be a fine levied in order to teach you boys a
lesson. All told, the amount comes to five-hundred dollars."
"Five hundred bucks? But Pa, that's the whole amount we won for
comin' in first in the scavenger hunt," Joe protested.
"You won?" Ben asked. He turned to Roy and shoved the whole pile
of
goods towards the man.
"Just who gave you all thirty of these items, Roy?"
The sheriff scratched his head. "Reckon you did, Ben."
"Yes, I believe so. Therefore, I believe I won that scavenger hunt."
"Reckon you did, at that, Ben."
He pulled some folded bills out of his vest pocket and carefully
counted out five-hundred dollars into Ben's waiting hand.
"Thank you, Roy. How about I treat you to a beer out of MY winnings
before we head over to the picnic?"
"That's a right-good idea, Ben. Let's go."
"But Pa…what about us?" Joe practically whined.
"What about you?"
"You gotta let us out. We'll miss the picnic!"
Ben smiled sweetly. "Yes, it certainly looks that way. Well boys,
I'll be back to pick you up on the way home tonight. Good-bye."
Roy and Ben walked out of the sheriff's office, closing the door
behind them.
Joe crumpled down on a cot. "We're going to miss the picnic,"
he
pouted.
Hoss sat beside him. "We're going to miss the picnic," he repeated
glumly.
Adam flung himself out on the other bunk and thought about Abigail
Jones. "We're going to miss the picnic," he echoed with great
satisfaction.
END
Feb 2006