Vigilantes
By: Rona Y.
“It
ain’t good enough, sheriff!” Dan Waites shouted at
Roy Coffee, banging his fist on the sheriff’s desk. “My house burned down last
night! What are ya doin’ ta catch these men?”
“I’m
doin’ everythin’ I can!”
“Too
late,” Waites replied, bleakly. “I ain’t got anythin’ left ta worry about.” He
turned and left the office, his anger gone, his shoulders slumped.
“Do
you need more deputies?” Ben Cartwright asked. He had kept quiet during the
confrontation, but now he saw that his old friend needed some comfort and
support.
Washing
his hand over his face,
“The
boys and I…” Ben started.
“I
know ya mean well, Ben, but ya ain’t here in town, an’ that’s
where I need the men ta be.”
“If
there’s anything I can do,” Ben offered and
“Thanks,
Ben. You’ll be the first.”
Walking
slowly over to his horse, Ben saw Dan Waites leaning on a building nearby. Dan
was just the latest of a string of men who’d lost their homes or businesses to
a gang of thieves who torched the place they robbed as they left.
“Is
there anything I can do for you, Dan?” he offered, drawing rein beside the
grieving man.
“No,
thanks all the same, Ben,” Dan replied. He straightened. “At least I had no
family to lose.” He turned and walked away.
******************************
“What
news?” Ben asked, when Joe returned from town two days later.
The
look on Joe’s face was enough to tell Ben that the news wasn’t good. Joe
dropped his hat onto the credenza with unnecessary force and his gun belt clattered
down alongside it a moment later. “Dan Waites has petitioned the town council
to get rid of
“Who
is ‘they’?” Ben asked. “You said Dan Waites.”
Ticking
them off on his fingers, Joe enumerated. “Dan Waites, Jim
Fenton, Pete Daly, Daly’s boys, Arthur Abbott, Ted Henderson, John Radley and
Dave Branson.”
“All
the men who had their property destroyed,” Ben murmured. He would have been
surprised if Joe had mentioned any other names in connection with this. “What
did the council say?”
Flinging
himself down onto the sofa, Joe grunted in disgust. “They are ‘considering
their position’,” he quoted sarcastically. “How can they do this to
“They
haven’t done anything to
“It
still doesn’t seem fair,” Joe grouched.
“It
isn’t,” Ben sighed. “But there’s nothing we can do about it. None of us are on
the town council because we don’t live in town.” They exchanged wry glances and
a lot of the tension left Joe’s body.
“Well,
I hope they do the right thing, then,” Joe muttered.
“Amen,”
Ben prayed.
*****************************
But
the town council didn’t move fast enough. There was another break-in and fire
that night and this time, the home owner lost his life. There were a number of volunteers
for the posse and they followed the trail up into the high country, where it
petered out amongst the rocks.
This
small success on
“Vigilantes,”
Ben growled, when he heard the news. “They should have more respect for the
law!”
“What
can we do?” Joe demanded, frustrated.
“Nothing,”
Adam replied. He had his arms folded across his chest and was frowning hard.
“If
“They
shoulda agreed ta be deputies when
“As
Adam says,
*******************************
The
attack on the Ponderosa came that night.
One
minute, Adam was standing guard outside the house, smothering yawns at birth
and wishing time would move a bit faster so that Joe would come out and relieve
him and the next, he was ducking as a gun butt grazed his cheek.
Stunned,
Adam barely avoided another swipe at his unprotected head. He fumbled for his
gun and fired, not aiming particularly at the criminal, but giving the
pre-arranged signal that there was trouble. He felt a bullet bite into his hand
moments later and his gun fell from nerveless fingers to clatter uselessly on
the ground beside him. Frantically, Adam scrabbled with his left hand to grab
his gun.
With
a banshee yell, Joe erupted from the house, clad only in pants, brandishing a
rifle. He spotted Adam at once and fired at the man standing over him. The man
fell backwards and his gun discharged harmlessly into the ground.
Although
he was concerned about Adam, Joe knew that he had to protect the house and
barn. He raced towards the barn, ignoring the stinging from his bare feet. He
yanked open the barn door and saw two men in there, freeing the horses from
their stalls. “Hold it!” Joe ordered. He advanced a few steps into the barn as
the men raised their hands.
There
was a rustle from inside Buck’s stall and Joe sensed, rather than saw, someone
stepping towards him. Then something hard cracked him hard across his back and
head. Joe collapsed soundlessly to the floor, not quite out. He vaguely saw
feet stopping beside him, then the boot drew back and that was the last thing
Joe saw.
***********************************
The
firing had roused the whole ranch. Ben and Hoss ran from the house in time to
see Adam stagger to his feet by the corral. Men were hurrying from the
bunkhouse. Shots were fired.
“Get
out a here!” ordered the leader of the outlaws as he glared down at Joe, lying
unconscious at his feet. He thought about kicking Joe again for good measure,
but as he saw Ben coming towards him, he regretfully decided against it. He
hurried off, firing at Ben, but missing.
“Joe!”
Ben knelt by his son, peripherally noticing that the horses were loose in the
barn, but all still there. Outside, he could hear hoof beats as the outlaws
made their getaway. There was still some shooting, but Ben’s attention was on
his son.
“Is
Joe all right?” panted a voice and Ben glanced up at Adam.
“I
think so,” Ben replied. “Adam, you’re bleeding.” He could see the bullet wound
in the back of Adam’s hand.
“It’s
just a graze,” Adam replied, dismissively. He avoided Ben’s outstretched hand
and peered more closely at Joe. “He’s taken quite a blow to the head,” he
observed.
Almost
as though he had heard, Joe groaned and moved his head. Ben caught the hand that Joe raised to feel
his head. “Easy, Joe,” he soothed.
Groaning
again, Joe opened his eyes. His head was throbbing. “Pa?” he asked, sounding
puzzled. Then, as his focus improved, he saw Adam leaning over Ben’s shoulder,
cradling his injured hand, and memory came back with a rush. He bolted upright
and wavered dizzily. He would have fallen if Ben hadn’t caught his shoulders.
“The horses!” he cried. “Did…?”
“No,
they didn’t get them,” Ben soothed. “Easy, Joe, relax. You took quite a knock
there.” He gently turned Joe’s head to look at the darkening bruise on his
temple. As he did so, he braced his arm along the back of Joe’s shoulders. Joe
winced and twisted away. “What…?” Ben began, as Hoss came into the barn,
carrying another lantern.
“They
got away, Pa,” he reported. “There’s one dead one lyin’ beside the corral.”
“That’s
the one Joe shot,” Adam explained. He watched with interest as Ben guided the
light Hoss was carrying so that it spilled on Joe’s back.
“You
get hit here, too?” Ben demanded. He sounded almost angry.
“Yeah,”
Joe replied. “I dunno what they hit me with. I was knocked over and then I saw
a boot…” Joe shuddered.
“Hoss,
help me get your brothers into the house. Do we have any other injuries?” Ben
assisted Joe to his feet, keeping a tight grip on his arm.
“No.”
Hoss moved to Adam’s side, but the older Cartwright was steady on his feet.
Inside,
once all the lamps were lit, Ben took a close look at both his sons. Adam was
right – the bullet had just grazed across the back of his hand. It was a
painful injury and would prevent him from using a gun for several days, but
there didn’t appear to be any broken bones. He submitted quietly to having his
hand cleaned and bandaged and then went gratefully off to bed.
There
was very little Ben could do for the bruising on Joe’s back and head except
bathe the areas in cool water. Joe’s feet had a smattering of small cuts and
grazes on them, but he claimed that he couldn’t feel them. Nonetheless, Ben
bathed and bandaged his feet and ordered Joe to bed, too. Joe protested that it
was his time to stand guard, but Ben simply hustled him upstairs. Hoss was
standing guard and had organised the men so that there were more guards about
the place.
Come
morning, Adam and Joe proclaimed themselves quite all right after a late
breakfast. Adam was disgruntled to discover that his hand had swelled slightly
and he found it awkward to do things with his left hand. Joe had discarded the
bandages his father had put on his feet and was walking around without even a
limp to show. However, the bruise on his back was stiff and painful and his
headache was still hanging on.
“We
ought to report what happened to
“Good
thinking,” Ben agreed. He had taken the last shift of the night on guard. “Joe,
why don’t you do that and while you’re in town, have Paul check out those
bruises of yours.”
“But
I’m fine, Pa,” Joe protested. “Perhaps Adam should go, since his hand is hurt.”
Giving
Joe an exasperated look, Adam opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment, but
Ben beat him to the punch. “Good thinking, son,” he praised. “Adam can go, too
and you can each make sure you both go to the doctor.”
Smiling
tightly, Adam shot a glance at Joe that promised retribution at a later date. Joe
shot one back, rolling his eyes. Ben pretended not to see either reaction.
“Since Adam can’t use his gun hand, it wouldn’t be wise to send him in alone,
and you did take quite a knock last night,” Ben reminded Joe. “So Adam can keep
an eye on you, to make sure that you’re feeling all right on the ride in.” He
rose from the table. “And don’t be all day,” he reminded them.
“Good
going, Joe,” Adam snarled, as the eggs dropped off his fork once more.
“Oh
shut up,” Joe sighed in resignation.
*******************************
The
ride to town was accomplished in near silence. Adam kept an eye on Joe and Joe
kept an eye on Adam and both were in a thoroughly foul temper when they reached
town.
“Looks
like Doc Martin’s in,” Adam growled as they rode down the street. He had just
seen the doctor ushering a patient out into the street. “Let’s go there first.”
“Whatever,”
Joe mumbled. He had hoped that Adam would decide that neither of them needed to
see the doctor.
They
entered an empty waiting room, which was something of a novelty. Paul Martin
was a very busy doctor. He looked surprised to see Joe and Adam, but he
instantly spotted the bandage on Adam’s hand and grinned. “It’s usually Joe who
needs an escort to force him to come in here,” Paul joked. “Have you taken on
Joe’s mantle as the most stubborn Cartwright, Adam?”
“We
both need to be seen,” Adam responded, giving Joe another grim look. Joe
returned it in kind.
It
didn’t take long for Paul to get the full story and he quickly gave Joe the
once over. Both bruises were darkly coloured and obviously sore, but there was
nothing Paul could do for them. Leaving
Joe to shrug back on his shirt and jacket, Paul began to unwind the bandage
around Adam’s hand, noticing the older Cartwright wincing as he did so.
“I’ll
go and talk to
“Fine,”
Adam replied. He glanced at Joe as his brother put on his hat. His face
softened. “Don’t let anyone bump into you.”
Smiling
at the sudden offer of a truce, Joe nodded. “And don’t you hit anyone,” he
joked, slipping out of the door.
************************************
Roy
Coffee looked utterly weary and Joe felt guilty about adding to his burden. He
kept his narrative short, but
Rising,
“We’ll
be careful,” Joe agreed.
“Hey!”
Turning,
Joe saw, with a sinking heart that Dan Waites was coming towards them, followed
by the others that had formed the vigilante group.
“Who’s
the dead man?” Waites demanded.
“I
don’t see where that’s any of your business,” Joe retorted.
“Is
it one of the gang?” Waites went on, ignoring Joe. “Who got him?” He lifted the
dead man’s head by the hair, looked at it in satisfaction for a moment, then
spat in his face. Joe was revolted.
“I
did,” he growled.
The
change in their attitude towards him was nauseating. Instantly, they were
‘hail-fellow-well-met’, Waites even moving to put his arm across Joe’s
shoulders. “Good for you, Cartwright!” Waites cried. “You show this old fool
how it’s done!”
Biting
back a cry of pain, Joe rudely shrugged Waites’ arm off and took a step away to
stand beside
The
camaraderie died just like that. Waites’ eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you
ought to talk to me that way, boy,” he warned.
“That’s
enough!”
For
a moment, it looked as though Waites was going to argue and he would certainly
have carried the day, given the superior numbers he had. But there was a crowd
gathering, watching the confrontation between the legal sheriff and the illegal
mob.
“I
won’t forget this, Cartwright,” Waites warned him.
“Neither
will I,” Joe rejoined, grimly.
*********************************
“What
was all that about?”
Turning,
Joe saw Adam standing behind him. “Just Waites and his friends trying to throw
their weight around,” Joe replied. “They seemed to think I was on their side.”
He snorted eloquently. He glanced down at the bandaged hand resting on the gun
that Adam had insisted on wearing that day, despite knowing that he couldn’t
use it. “What did the doc say?”
“Just
a graze,” Adam replied. “I’ve not to use it much until it heals.” He shrugged.
“Guess we’ve both got a clean bill of health, more or less.”
“More
or less,” Joe agreed. He stepped down off the boardwalk. “You go inside and
talk to
“Where
are you going?” Adam asked, suddenly not keen to let
Joe out of his sight.
“Relax,
big brother, I’m just going to take the corpse to the undertaker.” Joe gestured
to the sky. “In case you hadn’t noticed, its summer and
As
Joe turned the horse, Adam went into the jail.
************************
Handling
dead bodies was not one of Joe’s favourite occupations. He couldn’t understand
how the undertaker could bear to do his job. Exiting the building, Joe leaned
against the side of it for a few moments, his eyes shut, as he breathed deeply
of the hot, fresh air. As he straightened, something round and hard pressed
into the middle of his back.
“Don’t
do anything stupid,” warned a voice. “Just keep your hands where I can see them
and move on down to the back of the building.” A nudge in the back emphasised
the words.
Raising
his hands slightly, Joe walked down the alley, wishing that there was someone
around to see. The undertaker’s store was on the main street, but Joe had used
the side entrance to leave by and had therefore left himself open to this
peril. “What do you want?” he asked, roughly.
“You
don’t talk!” The gun dug further into Joe’s back. “You just do as you’re told.”
The
five men waiting for Joe at the back of the undertakers were not the ones Joe
had been expecting. He thought that it would be Waites and his gang, but the
men were strangers to him. Or were they? Joe narrowed his eyes as he recognised
two of them. He had last seen them in the Ponderosa barn, trying to steal his
family’s horses.
A
large man, almost as tall and broad as Hoss, grabbed Joe by the throat and
slammed him up against the building. Joe choked and grabbed at the arm, but he
had no chance of moving it. “One of my men is dead because of you,” he hissed
malevolently. “I’m going to take that out of your hide, boy and then you’re
gonna help me complete last night’s robbery.”
“I
don’t think so,” Joe gasped. He saw the grin growing on the big man’s face and
acted instantly, lifting his leg and kicking violently out. He caught the man
exactly where he had wanted and the hand relaxed enough for Joe to follow up
with a stinging uppercut.
But
he was still seriously outnumbered and even as he ducked under one grasping
hand, he felt his jacket caught by another. Joe lunged forward, feeling his
jacket pulled down over his arms, but before he could complete the manoeuvre
and escape, a fist buried itself in his stomach, doubling Joe over. Another
fist hammered down on his shoulders and he grunted in the sudden sharp pain,
which drove him to his knees. His arms were effectively trapped behind him by
his jacket and Joe knew that his chance to escape was past. Only divine
intervention could save him now.
A
hand twined into Joe’s hair and his head was yanked painfully backwards.
“You’re gonna pay for that, boy!” the big man warned. He slammed Joe’s head
down and only good fortune stopped it from bouncing off the hard ground. “Tie
him up good, blindfold him and gag him,” the man ordered. “He ain’t gonna get
away from us.”
Joe
was forced unceremoniously to the ground where his hands were bound tightly
behind him and a gag was thrust into his mouth. A blindfold cut off his vision
and he felt himself dragged to his feet. He was forced onto a horse and a rope
was tied around his middle. As they began to move, Joe could only hope that
someone saw them leaving.
*******************************
“Where
is Joe?” Adam asked, impatiently. He and Roy had talked all around the
situation several times, but hadn’t got anywhere. Now, Adam was startled to
realise that over an hour had passed since Joe left for the undertakers and he
still wasn’t back.
“Probably
met someone he knows,”
“If
he’s gone to the saloon…” Adam didn’t bother completing the threat. He rose.
“I’d better go and look for him. Pa did tell us not to be gone all day.”
Following
Adam to the door,
“I
will,” Adam replied. He frowned in the direction of the doctor’s. Sport, his
horse, was still waiting patiently at the hitching post, drowsing in the sun.
Cochise, Joe’s horse, was gone. “He can’t have gone home without me,” Adam
murmured, feeling a thrill of adrenaline shoot through his gut. He frantically
scanned the street, hoping to see Cochise tied up else where.
“What’s
wrong, Adam?”
“Joe’s
horse is gone,” Adam responded numbly.
Frowning,
“He
would’ve moved Sport, too.” Adam began to walk towards Sport, as though he
might find some clue to Joe’s whereabouts by his horse.
They
searched high and low. Nobody they talked to had seen Joe since he stepped into
the undertaker’s office. So that was where they concentrated the search. Adam
retraced Joe’s steps out of the side door and saw the footprints in the dusty
street. With
Retracing
his steps, Adam was forced to admit that Joe was missing. But who had him and
why was anyone’s guess.
*******************************
“I
need deputies,”
“We’re
trying to catch this gang that’s plaguing us,” Waites replied. “Is Joe with
them?”
“We
don’t know,” Adam admitted. “But Joe killed one of them at our place last
night. He was knocked cold by another one and saw at least two of their faces.”
Fear began to trickle through Adam’s veins. “They might have him.”
“You
should’ve stopped them long ago!” Arthur Abbott shouted at
Suddenly
angry, Adam whirled on him. “If you men had done your civic duty and signed on
as deputies, perhaps
Realising
that everyone in the saloon was watching him now, Adam let go of Abbott’s arm
and stepped back. He drew in several deep breaths, but was unable to calm
himself. He met many pairs of shocked eyes, but kept his head up and his gaze
hard.
“You’re
right.” The words came from Waites and his friends looked surprised. “I hadn’t
thought of it that way, Adam. Your family has always been good to me and I hate
to think of Joe in the hands of those men.” He turned to
Taken
aback by the sudden about-face, but knowing that he couldn’t afford to turn
down anyone, Roy simply nodded. Within moments, he had all the deputies he
could want.
“What
did they get from the Ponderosa last night?” Waites asked.
“Nothing,”
Adam replied. He looked at the older man and his eyes widened. “You think they
might come back?”
“And
they’ll bring Joe with them,” Waites guessed.
“I
think our next move is to tell Ben what’s happenin’,”
**********************************
The
ride seemed to go on interminably to Joe. When at last they stopped, he hoped
that the gag and blindfold would be removed, but they weren’t. Joe was dragged
down off the horse and shoved along, tripping over unseen obstacles until he
sensed they were inside a structure of some kind. Judging by the chill in the
air, Joe guessed it was a cave. His guess was confirmed when he was pushed onto
a dirt floor. He could feel cool, damp rock walls at his back as his feet were
tied together.
How
long he sat there was anyone’s guess, but he could hear the men moving about,
conversing in low tones. A fire was started and coffee brewed. Joe was
desperate for a drink. He moved his arms as much as he could. They were getting
very sore and the ache between his shoulder blades was very nearly unbearable.
Exhaustion
was beginning to take its toll on Joe when footsteps finally approached him. He
tensed as a hand grabbed his head, but there was no violence. The gag was just
untied. Joe waited in vain for the blindfold to be removed.
“Get
him on his feet,” growled a voice. Hands grabbed Joe’s arms and dragged him
upright. “You killed my man last night.”
Swallowing,
Joe replied, “And if I hadn’t, he would’ve killed my brother.” He kept his chin
up defiantly.
Grabbing
Joe’s chin in his hand, the leader leant in close, breathing heavily into Joe’s
face. Joe tried to twist away to avoid the man’s bad breath, but he couldn’t move.
“You’re going to tell me how to get past those guards, aren’t you, boy?” he
purred. “And if you tell me the right things, I might just leave you behind
there after we’ve looted and burned the place.” He sniggered.
“Only
when hell freezes over,” Joe responded softly.
He
couldn’t see the blows coming and there was nothing he could do to fight back.
When Joe was finally dropped to the dirt floor of the cave, he was beyond
speaking. The leader stood over him, panting and massaging his skinned
knuckles. “You will tell me, boy,” he warned. “In a while, you’ll tell me
everything I want to know.”
*****************************
Sitting,
stunned, Ben could barely hear what Adam and Roy were saying to him. His
thoughts were struggling to come to terms with the idea that Joe was a hostage
– most probably of the men who had tried to raid the Ponderosa the night
before. His mind replayed the scene in the barn from the previous night, and he
felt his heart stutter.
“What?”
he asked, realising that Adam had said something that he had missed. “What did
you say?”
Knowing
the shock that Ben had just received, Adam was patient with him. “We think they
might come back here tonight or tomorrow,” he repeated. “This is the only place
they’ve raided so far that they have gone away empty handed.”
“Yes,
I think you might be right,” Ben agreed. “They might think that we aren’t
expecting them to come back.”
“The
big difference this time is that they’ll have Joe with them,” Dan Waites
suggested.
“What
do you mean?” Ben bristled. “Are you suggesting that Joe would willingly help those men?”
That
was exactly what Waites had meant to suggest, but faced with Ben’s out-raged
glare, Adam’s dark glance and Hoss’ fury, he backed down on the suggestion.
“No,” he responded wretchedly. “What I meant is that they’ll have Joe with them
as a prisoner. They might use him as a shield.”
“They
might,” Adam snapped. “But Joe is only one man. He couldn’t shield them all at
once.”
Furious
at Adam’s arrogant assumption, Waites flared back at him. “If they rode in here
with a gun to Joe’s head, I don’t suppose you’d argue with them, would you?” he
sneered. He was quite gratified to see Adam blanch slightly.
“What
do you propose?” Ben asked, coldly. He had taken a sudden dislike to Dan
Waites.
“I
was reckoning on secreting the posse around the ranch, Ben,”
***********************************
A
boot roused Joe from the shallow sleep he had fallen into. He still lay face
down on the dirt floor of the cave, his hands still bound tightly behind him,
his ankles tied. The blindfold hadn’t moved an inch. The only thing that had
changed was that Joe hurt all over from the beating he had taken. He was yanked
to his feet. Hands slid under his arms on each side and he was dragged away,
his feet still bound. Joe tried to struggle, but he didn’t have the strength.
He suddenly felt himself lifted up and before he could catch his breath, he was
dropped belly down over a saddle.
As
the hands that had put him there secured him with leather thongs, Joe could
hear sounds of the men moving all around. He guessed it was dark – or almost
dark. They couldn’t risk attacking the Ponderosa in daylight. Joe felt a sudden
burst of panic. He hadn’t told them anything, had he?
The
horse he was on side-stepped nervously and Joe felt a hand in his hair, pulling
his head up. He was so tired of that gesture, he thought. He gritted his teeth
against the pain.
“You
gonna tell us what we want ta know?” asked an all-too familiar voice.
There
didn’t seem to be an appropriate answer to that, so Joe held his peace. He
wasn’t sure he would be able to speak anyway. His throat was so dry and his
lips were so swollen. A hand crashed across his face and Joe gasped with the
pain. His nose began to bleed heavily.
“What
we gonna do if’n he don’t tell us?” asked a high-pitched, nervous, young
sounding voice close by Joe’s ear.
“If
he doesn’t tell us, I’m gonna start cutting bits off him!” the leader growled.
Joe felt something cold pressed against his cheek and knew from the feel that
it was a knife. “An ear, a finger – who knows? But
when I cut off enough bits, he’ll tell us.” He laughed and Joe felt the knife
withdrawn and sagged limply.
Moments
later, his horse began walking and Joe realised that the leader was probably
cleverer than Joe had given him credit for. After bouncing along on his belly
like that for a few miles, Joe’s resistance would be further weakened.
********************************
“Yes,
it does hurt,” Adam agreed through gritted teeth. “But you need every available
hand and I can’t just sit here and do nothing,
“Adam…”
Ben looked troubled, but before he could voice any further arguments, Hoss put
his massive hand on Ben’s arm.
“Pa,
I reckon Adam’s old enough ta know what he’s doin’,” he chided gently. “Ya’d do
ezzacly the same thing if’n it were yer hand that were hurt.” He kept his level
blue gaze on Ben, willing his father to agree. Hoss didn’t like to see any of
his family hurting, but he knew exactly where Adam’s thoughts were on this. He
would be doing the same thing if the positions were reversed.
“You’re
right,” Ben capitulated. He heaved a big sigh and washed his hands over his
face. Joe had only been missing for a few hours, but it felt like days to Ben.
He could only hope and pray that his son was still alive and unharmed. He
placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry, son.”
“Don’t
be.” Adam briefly put his hand over Ben’s. It was an unusual gesture for so
self-contained a man. “Joe’s in trouble. We’ve got to do whatever we can to
help him. Joe wouldn’t do any less for any of us.” He eyes grew unfocused for a
minute as he thought back. “Remember when he broke his coccyx? Remember how he
came and sat in the water with me?”*
“Sure
do,” Hoss grunted. “He was so sore, he couldn’ git up.
I had ta carry him.”
Indeed,
Ben could remember that time, as he could remember every time his sons did
something selfless for the others. It was something he had encouraged in his
children and he was incredibly proud of them all. They were all so different,
all so like the mothers who had borne them, and yet they were all so alike in
many ways. Ben blinked back the tears that sprang to his eyes.
“Just
remember,” he said, huskily, “I don’t want to sacrifice one son for another.”
And it wasn’t just Adam he looked at. They both nodded.
“I’m
going to post myself with Waites,” Adam announced, as he holstered his gun. The
posse were all outside, acquainting themselves with the hands, so they didn’t
accidentally shoot one of the good guys.
“Why?”
Ben asked, as Hoss shot Adam an approving glance and nodded. He didn’t trust
Waites either.
“Good
thinkin’,” he praised.
Nodding
in return to Hoss – Adam had known that his younger brother would have picked
up on the odd vibes coming from Waites – Adam replied, “I don’t trust him,
“People
do have sudden changes of heart,” Ben suggested, but his heart wasn’t in the
defence.
“I
know.” Adam sighed and looked thoughtful. “But it just didn’t seem right to me.
I can’t really explain it.”
“Just
be careful,” Ben begged and Adam nodded. They headed off to take up their
positions.
******************************
Hanging
painfully over the saddle, Joe wondered if it was possible to be any more
miserable. He could barely catch his breath and had there been anything in his
stomach, he was sure it would have been long gone. But at last, the horse was
no longer moving. The relief of being at a standstill was tempered by the fear
that the leader of the gang would start tormenting him again. Joe couldn’t tell
the man what he wanted to know, and he feared the pain that he was going to
face because of that. Would the man really cut off a finger? Much as Joe wanted
to deny it, he couldn’t silence the small voice that said it was more than
possible.
From
all around, Joe could hear the sounds of men dismounting from horses. He
desperately wanted to see where they were, what was
happening, but the blindfold seemed to be on for the duration. He strained his
ears, but couldn’t catch more than the low murmur of voices. Once more, he made
an effort to free himself, but his arms were completely numb and his body ached
violently.
“You’re
not gonna get away.” The voice caught Joe by surprise and he stopped squirming.
“You’re gonna tell me what I want to know.”
Swallowing,
Joe knew that he didn’t have enough saliva in his mouth to say anything, much
less what this man wanted to hear, even supposing he felt inclined to tell him
anything. Joe felt a strong urge to urinate as he realised again just how
helpless he was. He felt the cold blade of the knife trail lightly round the
bottom of his throat. It didn’t appear to have drawn blood, but Joe wasn’t sure
that he would realise if he was bleeding.
“Get
him off that horse,” the leader ordered and Joe felt hands fumbling at the ties
that kept him on the horse. For the first instant, it was a relief to be down,
then the pain hit and Joe found himself curled up on the ground, fighting not
to groan aloud.
Unseen
hands wrestled Joe into an upright position and untied his hands. He groaned
anew as his arms were drawn from behind his back and the circulation began to
revive. He struggled as best he could, but all he succeeded in doing was to
make his captors tighten their grips. His right arm was drawn out to the side
and his left was pushed out in front of him, the hands holding fast to his
wrist.
Another
hand, with hard, calloused skin, took hold of Joe’s left hand and straightened
the fingers out. Joe tried to draw back,
but he was helpless. He felt something cold and sharp come to rest against the
side of his hand and froze in fear. Surely the leader didn’t really mean to cut
off his finger? Joe could only imagine how painful it would be and he tried to
block out the thought of what the loss of a finger would mean. He was left handed.
He could probably adjust in time, but the thought sent tremors down his
muscles.
“I
was going to cut off your finger,” the leader began, his voice quiet and
somehow mocking. “It would be sore, wouldn’t it, boy?” The sudden slash of the
knife across the base of his pinkie brought a scream to Joe’s lips. He could
feel the heat of his blood streaming across the back of his hand. “Yes, I
thought it would hurt,” the mocking voice went on, a hint of laughter now
creeping in. “But I thought I’d try something else. Perhaps if I threatened to
cripple this hand, you’d tell me what I want to know.”
The
thought of losing the use of his dominant hand was a paralysing one. Joe gasped
for breath, trying to calm his terror. “I can’t tell you,” he whispered. His
voice was barely audible, so dry was his throat, but the leader heard.
“You
are stupidly stubborn,” he sighed. With a single, swift movement, he broke
Joe’s pinkie.
Joe
had had broken bones before, but that didn’t make the pain any less. In fact,
it seemed to hurt more than Joe remembered. The world spun around him as he
hyperventilated, trying to control the rivers of agony that shot through his
abused hand. He came back to some sort of normality just in time for his
forefinger to be broken, too.
By
the time Joe had collected his scattered wits, he had no idea how much time had
passed. A canteen was put to his lips and he eagerly gulped the water. Sweat
was drying on his forehead and a shiver went through his body as a chill wind
caught his sweat-soaked clothing.
“Ready to tell me yet?” Joe’s left hand was
still extended in front of him, despite his attempts to draw it towards his
chest and cradle it protectively.
“The
guards will have doubled,” Joe croaked. “There’s no way you can get in.” He
swallowed. “So I can’t tell you what you want to hear.”
The
defiance enraged the leader. He had an extremely short temper and his men had
been more than glad that Joe was around to be a punching bag for him. He
back-handed Joe violently across the face and while Joe’s head was still
reeling from the blow, he broke Joe’s two middle fingers and his thumb. The
pain was over whelming and Joe slid into welcome darkness.
***********************************
When
Joe regained consciousness, his hands were once more bound, but in an unlooked
for leniency, they were tied in front of him, crossed at the wrists so that his
injured hand was supported slightly by his right hand underneath it. Joe drew
his hands closer to his body, as though that could ease the pain that enveloped
his left hand.
“So
you’re awake at last.” The voice was so close to his ear that Joe flinched.
“Let’s get going.”
“W-what?” Joe stuttered as he was
dragged to his feet.
“I
think you told me what I needed to know after all, boy,” the leader replied, sounding
as though he was the last person on earth to lose his temper in an uncontrolled
display of violence. “If we can’t sneak in because of the guards, we’ll just
ride right up the main road – with you as a hostage.”
“No!”
Joe began to struggle, knowing that Ben would do anything to save his life –
including giving the Ponderosa to these men to loot and burn. But his struggles
were in vain. He was boosted onto the back of a horse – sitting up this time –
and someone got on behind him. A gun was placed behind his ear.
“Try
anything, and I’ll blow your head off.” The gun was removed and a moment later,
a bandanna was forced into Joe’s mouth and then they began to move. Every step
the horse took caused jolts of agony to burst through his hand. Joe was going
home, but it was the last place on earth he wanted to take these men.
******************************
The
movement in the darkness caught them all by surprise. “They’re coming up the
road,”
But
Ben had instantly seen what
“What
do you want?” he asked, his voice quite composed. He was slightly relieved when
Joe turned his head towards his father’s voice.
“I’m
sure you can guess that,” the leader replied. He cocked his gun and put it to
Joe’s head.
Before
anyone could say any more, Waites leapt to his feet and fired. One of the
outlaws tumbled dead from his saddle. Adam, distracted by the sight of his
brother, bound and helpless, tried to stop Waites, but he was too slow. And in
that moment, all hell broke loose.
The
horses startled slightly from the sudden shot. Ben, his face blanched of all
colour, took a step forward and froze as the gun returned to Joe’s head. From
all around, there came the sound of shooting, but Ben, Joe and the leader of
the outlaws seemed to be in a separate oasis, protected from and oblivious to
all that was going on around them. Ben’s eyes were locked to the eyes of the
man holding his son a captive.
“If
you hurt Joe, there won’t be anywhere in the world that you can hide,” Ben
declared. His voice wasn’t raised, but it cut through the hullabaloo without
any trouble. “Hell itself will fear to shelter you.”
A
shudder ran down Joe’s spine at those words; they didn’t sound like they came
from his father at all. A bullet whined past his ear and Joe flinched. He had
no idea what was going on, but it sounded like a war had started. He was
exhausted, in a great deal of pain and felt incredibly ill.
From
out of the darkness that had surrounded Joe for the last several hours that
counted his captivity came a voice he knew very well. A voice he trusted
implicitly. “Joe! Jump!”
It
would cost him in pain, but Joe didn’t hesitate. He launched himself sideways from
the saddle, knowing that he had to just fall; there was no opportunity to
dismount. He felt the man behind him grab his arm, but all that did was cause
Joe to twist around as he fell. As he went down, he felt the air move as a
bullet missed him by scant inches. The crash of the shot sounded strangely
doubled, but then Joe hit the ground hard, the wind was knocked out of him and
pain rocketed through his injured hand. A heavy thud beside him caused him to
flinch once more, but Joe couldn’t move to get up and flee, even if he could
see where he was going.
As
his breath came back with a jolt, Joe felt hands on his shoulders, gentle hands, familiar, loving hands and he relaxed. He was safe.
Those hands fumbled to untie the gag and free it carefully from Joe’s torn
mouth and then the blindfold was finally removed from his eyes. Joe blinked
furiously to clear his vision, but he didn’t need crystal clear vision to
recognise his father. He tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry to allow any
sound to emerge.
“Joe,
are you all right?” Ben asked, anxiously. He helped Joe to sit up, supporting
his shoulders.
Before
Joe could nod, Hoss and Adam appeared out of the gloom. They both looked
incredibly anxious and Joe tried to smile to ease their worries, but judging by
the looks on their faces, he wasn’t too successful. His mouth was too sore to
make smiling a pleasure.
Someone
else appeared and Joe blinked in astonishment at Roy Coffee. What was going on?
Why was
“I
think so,” Ben replied, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Come on, boys, help me get Joe into the house.”
Stepping
forward, Adam holstered his gun and reached for his knife to cut the rope that
held Joe’s hands captive. As the rope fell away, Joe brought his injured hand
close to his chest, cradling it protectively. The pain was horrendous. And
suddenly, the shock hit him and Joe began to tremble. As Ben and Hoss helped
him to his feet, Joe found the world started to spin on its axis. He stumbled,
feeling Ben’s arms tighten around his waist. “Wait,” he breathed, but his voice
was too faint to carry. He managed another couple of steps before his knees
buckled underneath him and he tumbled to the ground. Joe was vaguely aware of
Ben talking to him, but it was easier to just let go. He slid into
unconsciousness.
******************************
“Five
dead, including Dan Waites,”
“Good,”
Adam replied, but his attention was still mostly focused on the stairs, waiting
for Ben and Hoss to come back down. Adam had helped
“I’m
goin’ back ta town,”
“Thanks.”
With a smile, Adam hurried upstairs while
*********************************
When
he regained his senses a short time later, Joe was slightly surprised to find himself being tucked securely into his bed. He swivelled his
head and Ben paused for a moment before tucking the blankets around Joe’s bare
shoulders and sitting on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?” he asked, his eyes gently caressing Joe’s bruised, pale face.
Opening
his mouth, Joe was embarrassed when only a squeak emerged, but Ben seemed to realise
what was wrong and a few moments later held a glass of water to Joe’s lips. Joe
sipped gratefully. The first swallow was sheer bliss. Joe wanted to grab the
glass and gulp the water down as fast as he could, but seeing the way Ben was
holding onto the glass, he knew that his father wouldn’t allow him to.
When
Joe finally finished the glass, Ben smiled at him. “Now, how do you feel?”
“Better,”
Joe replied, his voice still hoarse. He cleared his throat and moved slightly.
His body hurt all over, especially his stomach and hand. He looked round.
“Where are Hoss and Adam? Are they all right? What happened out there?”
“Don’t
worry,” Ben soothed. “Your brothers are both fine. Hoss just went down to get
some water. Adam was helping
“What
happened?” Joe persisted.
“I’m
not exactly sure,” Ben replied, truthfully. “Dan Waites shot one of the outlaws
and the next thing I knew, there were bullets flying everywhere.” Ben eyed Joe
assessingly. “I was trying to get the leader to let you go. Then Adam shouted
to you to jump and you did. The leader shot at you, but missed. Then he fell –
I think Adam might have shot him.”
“But
they didn’t…”
“No,
they didn’t get anything, and they didn’t set fire to anything, either.” Ben
frowned as Joe moved and winced. “What happened to you, son?”
“They
grabbed me as I left the undertakers,” Joe replied. “The big man, he wanted me
to tell him where the guards would be posted. He beat me up when I refused. I
was kept blindfolded and tied up most of the time and when he asked again and I
refused he… he…” Joe swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. “He broke my
fingers,” he concluded in a whisper. His eyes opened again to look into Ben’s
appalled face. “I told him he’d never get through; that you’d double the guards.”
Despair coloured Joe’s voice. “And he decided to ride right up to the house. He
said if I was lucky, he would leave me behind when he’d finished burning
things.” Joe blinked away the tears that clung stubbornly to his lashes. “I
didn’t mean for that to happen,
“You
have nothing to be sorry for, Joe,” Ben soothed. “Nothing.
I’m so sorry that you got hurt.” He reached out to brush the curl back from
Joe’s forehead. It was a familiar gesture that brought comfort to them both.
The
bedroom door opened and Hoss came in bearing a basin of warm water and Adam
came in at his back. Both looked relieved to see Joe awake and hurried over to
the bed. “Good to see those green eyes open again,” Adam teased.
“Good
to see you, too,” Joe smiled. He moved again, unable to find a truly
comfortable position and winced again.
“Let
me wash some of the dirt off your face, son,” Ben suggested.
“Hop
Sing’s bringing up a couple of hot water bottles,” Hoss volunteered, beaming
down at Joe. “Hiya, Shortshanks.”
“Hey, Hoss.” Joe forced another smile,
but in truth, the pain was now crowding in on him and he felt exhausted and
ill. He submitted to Ben washing his face and felt better for it afterwards. It
was somehow comforting to be treated like a child. But once Ben was done, Joe
curled onto his side, hoping to ease the pain in his stomach. His hand was a
ball of burning misery.
“Joe?”
Opening
his eyes, Joe saw that his family were looking down on him worriedly. “Yeah, Pa?” It was an effort to speak.
“Joe,
the doctor’s on his way.” Ben knew that what he had just said was totally
inadequate as comfort. “Can I see what hurts so much?”
“Sure,”
Joe sighed, not caring. If Ben was going to leave him alone after looking, Joe
was quite happy for him to do that.
Being
careful of the damaged, swollen hand, Ben drew back the covers. When he had
stripped off Joe’s dirty, damp clothes, he hadn’t paid much attention to the
condition his son was in, other than to be careful. But now, his eyes skimmed
down over Joe’s muscular chest to the lean, taut belly and saw the dark
bruising spreading there. Worried, Ben raised his eyes to glance at Adam, whose
eyes were also dark with worry.
“Let
me put a bottle there,” Adam suggested smoothly, when Ben’s voice appeared to
have failed him. Luckily, Joe had his eyes shut again, and so hadn’t seen the
stricken look on Ben’s face.
The
heat was soothing and Joe sighed slightly as the warmth began to penetrate. He
felt Ben tuck the covers around him again and snuggled in deeper. He hadn’t
seen Ben catalogue all the bruising which dotted his torso. There were even
finger-shaped bruises on his throat. But they were superficial. The worrying
bruise was the one on Joe’s stomach – did it denote internal bleeding?
Glancing
at the dark sky outside, Ben prayed that the doctor would hurry.
**************************
Joe
was in a restless sleep when Paul Martin arrived several hours later. Ben had
kept a steady vigil over him and Hop Sing had kept the hot water bottles hot.
Adam had told them all about the number of dead and injured from the battle in
the yard and it was during this recitation that Joe had dozed off.
“Dan
Waites.” Ben shook his head. “I never would have thought of him as the vengeful
type.”
“Nor
I,” Adam agreed. “But that was why he and his buddies agreed to join the posse
and come out here. They weren’t interested in arresting the outlaws; they
wanted to kill them, pure and simple. I would suspect they’ll all go to jail –
the ones who survive, at any rate.”
“How
many of our men were injured?” Ben asked.
“Just
two,” Hoss replied. “Fred fell off of the edge o’ the roof, but he pretty much
bounced an’ his head’s pretty hard.”
Ben
couldn’t help smiling at that. “But was he hurt?”
“Not
so’s ya’d say hurt,” Hoss hedged. “He jist banged his head, an’ we all know
that Fred ain’t got much up there.” This was an old joke. Fred had been a
reliable hand for years. He wasn’t blessed with much of an imagination and he
knew it. It was a running joke between he and Hoss that Hoss looked thick and
wasn’t and Fred didn’t look thick and was!
“Jim
took a bullet crease in his arm,” Adam reported. “But he’s fine. Everyone else
is all right. We were lucky,
“Sure
were,” Ben agreed. “I’ll go and see Fred and Jim in the morning.” He had risen
to pace the room, pausing often to look out of the window or study Joe.
So when the door opened to admit the physician, there was general relief
in the room, although it wasn’t all for the same reasons.
“Sorry
I’ve taken so long,” Paul apologised. “How’s Joe?” He bent over the sleeping
man and studied his colour. “Joe?”
It
didn’t take much to wake Joe and Paul questioned him about his experiences.
Like Ben, Paul examined the bruise on Joe’s stomach, but he didn’t touch it at
all. His face gave nothing away, but Ben was sure that Paul was worried.
“I’m
going to set those fingers of yours, Joe,” Paul told him at last. “You just
have a nice sleep there. When you wake up…”
“I’ll
be sick to my stomach from the chloroform,” Joe joked, weakly. “Do you have to
use it?”
“You
wouldn’t like to be awake while I do this,” Paul replied.
A
sick look crossed Joe’s face and he shuddered. “No,” he agreed. “I wasn’t too
keen on being awake while it was happening, either.”
There
was an uneasy pause and then Paul filled the gap. “That shows a modicum of
sense,” he remarked. “Are you sure you’re not concussed?” He produced the
chloroform and Joe was soon slumbering.
Setting
the broken fingers was a tricky job, but Paul accomplished it with Ben’s help.
The hand was splinted and wrapped in lots of bandages, until it resembled a
giant snowball. The breaks were quite straightforward and Paul didn’t really
expect any complications in healing. The gash at the base of Joe’s pinkie was
deep but straight and clean and Paul put a couple of stitches in it.
Then
he examined Joe’s stomach. He had feared internal bleeding when he first saw
the dark bruise spreading like some sort of malignant cancer across the young
man’s golden skin. He had feared that Joe’s spleen might have ruptured, in
which case there would be nothing he could do. Surgery really wasn’t an option.
But as he carefully felt around, he became more and more certain that this was
just what it appeared to be – a huge bruise. The spleen area did seem to be
tender, but it wasn’t enlarged and if Joe had been bleeding from a ruptured
spleen, he almost certainly would already be dead.
None
of Joe’s other injuries was serious. Paul waited for Joe to come around before
he gave him something for the pain. Joe soon drifted off to sleep again.
“He’ll
be fine, Ben,” Paul assured his old friend. “A few days rest and he should be
feeling much better.”
“Thank
you,” Ben replied. He ruffled Joe’s curls tenderly. “I really feared for him
this time, Paul.”
“You
fear for him every time,” Paul chided, gently. “And for Adam
and Hoss. Come on, let’s go and tell them the good news.”
**********************************
Joe
certainly was sore for a few days and he was only just starting to creep around
the house when word was sent from town that the circuit judge had arrived and
Joe was wanted to give testimony at the trial of the remaining outlaws. Ben wanted
to ask for a few more days rest, but Joe vetoed the suggestion.
“I
just want to get it over with, Pa,” he explained.
Seeing
Joe so pale was worrying for Ben, but he had to admit that he could understand
Joe’s thoughts on the matter. So, reluctantly, they set off for town in the
buckboard the next day. Joe had required help to get into the buckboard, partly
because he was so stiff and partly because his left arm was securely in a
sling.
There
was a crowd at the courthouse in town and Joe was embarrassed to be seen being
helped down from the buckboard, but there was nothing he could do about it. He
received lots of sympathetic and pitying looks and heard open speculation about
what had actually happened to him. He knew that after his day in court, everyone
in town would know what had happened.
The
trial itself proved less of an ordeal than any of them expected. The leader of
the outlaws clearly hadn’t expected to see Joe turning up to testify, but the
effect of the pale, injured young man on the jury wasn’t to be underestimated.
A couple of the other outlaws had offered state’s evidence in exchange for the
promise of a lighter sentence and Joe’s testimony, offered in a clear, slightly
shaky voice, was just the icing on the cake. The sentence of death was carried
out that afternoon, less than two hours after the jury had returned a verdict
of guilty.
**********************************
“What’s
going to happen to the others?” Joe asked that night, as he slumped tiredly on
the sofa in front of the fire. He was exhausted, but he wanted to know the
answer to his question before he went off to bed.
“I’m
not sure,” Ben admitted. “There’s going to be a trial, I know that much. Adam
is testifying.”
“What
they did was wrong, wasn’t it?” Joe asked. “There’s a word for it, but I can’t
remember what it is.” He smothered a yawn at birth, only for another one to
break free. “Sorry.” He rubbed his eyes.
“Vigilante,”
Adam supplied. “Someone who takes the law into their own
hands.”
“I don’
understand why they done that,” Hoss admitted.
“Neither
do I,” Joe agreed.
“Well,
neither do I, entirely,” Ben replied. “After all,
“But
Dan and the others didn’t want to hand the men over to a judge,” Adam pointed
out. “They wanted to be judge, jury and executioner all rolled into one and not
bother with a trial at all.”
“And
look where it got them,” Joe remarked sadly. “A trial all
their own.”
“We
have laws for a reason,” Ben reminded them. “The law isn’t perfect, but it’s
all we have and everyone has to support it. If not, then law and order break
down completely and people start doing this kind of thing and it all ends in
tragedy.”
There
was a long silence, but at length, Joe shook off the drowsiness that was
threatening to overtake him and got to his feet. “I’m going to bed,” he
announced.
“I’ll
come and help you,” Ben volunteered and the others bade Joe goodnight.
Upstairs,
Joe was thoughtful. “Sometimes, its very tempting to take the law into your own
hands, isn’t it, Pa?” he asked.
“Yes,”
Ben agreed, warily.
“But
you pay for it in the end, one way or another, don’t you?” Joe went on, as he
sat down to allow Ben to pull off his boots. “You might seem to get away with
it at first, but it always catches you up in the end.” He sighed. “Either the
law gets you, or you end up getting shot by someone who works for or with the
law. But you always pay in the end.”
“There’s
always a price,” Ben agreed. “Even when you don’t get caught or shot, there’s
always a price.”
Puzzled,
for he was desperately sleepy, it took Joe a moment to realise what Ben meant.
“Your conscience,” he nodded. “Of course. And you can
never get away from your conscience.” He slid beneath the covers. “I’m glad the
ranch wasn’t burned,
“Me,
too,” smiled Ben, as Joe’s eyes dipped shut of their own volition. “And I’m
glad you’re safely home.”
“G’night,”
Joe breathed.
“Good
night, son.” Ben walked quietly to the door where he paused and looked back.
Joe’s breathing had evened out already and he was sound asleep.
Leaving
the room, Ben paused again, thinking. He was lucky that his sons, although they
may have been tempted as Joe suggested, had never taken the law into their own
hands and become vigilantes. He knew of a few occasions when they had actively
worked against that and he gave thanks that the things he had tried to teach
them had taken root so strongly.
As
he walked downstairs, he heard Adam and Hoss discussing that very thing and
saying pretty much what Joe had said. His sons might be as different as chalk
and cheese, but they were remarkably similar. Ben smiled as he recalled
thinking that before. Then it must be true,
he thought.
“What’s
so funny?” Adam asked him as Ben gave a quiet chuckle.
Smiling,
Ben refused to answer. If he insisted that his sons were all alike, he knew
they would start to deny it, not realising that their denials were simply
proving what he had said.
They
were all together and all safe. What more could a man ask for?
The End.