The Code

EPISODE: The Code

Episode #223, Season 7, First shown on February 13, 1966

Guest Stars: George Montgomery, Robert Ellenstein, Jan Shepart

This episode was directed by William F. Claxton and written by Sidney Ellis, a writer from whom we should have seen more, for this is a taut and well-constructed drama with dialogue showing masterful use of the well-turned phrase.

SUMMARY:

As the story opens, we see Little Joe loading heavy sacks into the back of a buckboard, all by himself, thus proving that he does do ranch chores and does not always cajole Hoss into doing his work. There will be a wait of half an hour until the rest of the supplies are ready to load, so Joe ambles over to watch, from a distance, some of his compatriots displaying their marksmanship by shooting bottles. Fitz, a self-proclaimed dude from St. Louis, is admiring the efforts of these young men and states that two of them, Wayne and Pete, must be the best gun hands in town. Pete modestly says that there’s one better and calls Joe over. Introducing Joe to Fitz, Pete declares that Joe Cartwright is the best in the territory when it comes to handling a gun. We always knew that, but it’s nice to have confirmation.

As it’s all in the spirit of fun and he has time to kill, Joe agrees to shoot bottles for Fitz’s entertainment. Perhaps a bit of pride is involved, too, as Joe doesn’t just draw and shoot the bottles; he fans the gun in a nice display of showmanship. Everyone admires his handiwork, and Fitz offers to buy drinks to celebrate Joe’s accomplishment. Generously, Joe says he’ll buy.

As everyone enters the saloon, feeling carefree and happy, a man with dark, appraising eyes, who has been watching the contest, follows them in. We can tell just by looking that something sinister is afoot. Before long the man, Dan Taggart by name, sidles up to Little Joe and begins taunting him about what a “tough kid” he is. He laughs when Fitz asks about how many notches Joe has on his gun, smirks that you don’t go to a kindergarten class to learn about a six-gun and sloshes beer on Joe’s boots. Joe restrains himself admirably, but finally loses his temper when Taggart shoves him physically, and the two appear ready to draw on each other.

Fitz intervenes, imploring them not to fight in a crowded saloon. Taggart quickly agrees, challenging Joe to meet him the next morning at 6:30 down by the warehouse “where you bottle babies were playing.” Kid and now baby-bottle baby, no less. Joe must be fuming inside at this insult to his manhood, but he merely agrees to meet Taggart at the appointed time and place.

After Taggart leaves, Fitz again comments about the notches on Joe’s gun, and Wayne teasingly asks him how many there are now. Joe doesn’t appreciate the joke, and Fitz discerns that what Wayne is actually saying is that Joe has never faced down a man before. (Wayne is obviously new to the territory! This is, after all, season seven, and Joe has gunned down his fair share in the last six years.) Fitz then takes on a snide air, saying that facing a man who can shoot back is different from shooting bottles; he’s willing to bet that Mr. Cartwright won’t even show up for tomorrow’s face-off. Joe, disgusted, leaves, but his friends are willing to put up money to defend his honor. Fitz quickly agrees, pulls out $5,000 and offers to match all takers to that amount. A betting frenzy begins, and everyone’s money is on Little Joe, who is, after all, cute, a Cartwright and the best in the territory. (The writer doesn’t point all this out, so I thought I should.)

The scene switches to a street in Virginia City, where Hoss and Ben are dividing up errands between themselves. (See? Hoss was in town, but is he helping to load the wagon? No, he’s leaving the hard work to his baby brother and failing to keep him out of trouble, but Hoss will redeem himself later on.) Hoss tells Pa that Joe has offered to buy them both a beer, and he doesn’t want to let an opportunity like that get clean away. (What a generous kid that Joe is, but it must be payday for him to have enough money in his pockets to treat Pa, Hoss and all those folks at the bar.) Ben doesn’t want to lose a chance on free beer from his youngest, either, so he agrees to meet Hoss and Joe at the Silver Dollar.

Ben and Hoss come into the Silver Dollar together somewhat later, only to find Sam Tucker, the bartender, recording bets on the upcoming gunfight. Both Hoss and Ben are shocked, Hoss in particular. Having left Joe less than an hour ago, he can’t believe the kid could get into this much trouble that quickly. (Hoss, Hoss, where have you been all Joe’s life?)

Ben looks mad enough to spit and institutes an all-out search for his youngest son. Hoss begins to redeem himself by saying, “Pa, there’s gotta be some sort of explanation; let him make it.”

As fate would have it, Ben is the one who finds Joe and, smoke pouring from ears and nostrils, demands if Joe knows what is going on at the saloon.

“Yes, sir, I know,” Joe admits ruefully. He knows he’s in trouble; he knows he deserves to be in trouble, but he’s man enough to admit it and face the inevitable consequences with Pa. We see a fine development of Little Joe’s maturity in this episode, beginning with his admission that he let Taggart get to him and lost his temper. He volunteers to apologize to Taggart and get the misunderstanding straightened out.

Pa is still in Pa-mode and orders Joe to get back to the Ponderosa as soon as he’s made his apology. “Is that clear?” he asks tersely.

Joe again exhibits the patience of developing maturity as he says, “Yes sir, that’s clear.”

Pa is still in Pa-mode. With stern gaze, he says, “Maybe I ought to go with you, just to make sure.”

It’s getting harder to be patient, but the maturing Joe succeeds. “I can apologize to him alone; then I promise I’ll be home.”

Pa seems grudgingly satisfied and heads for home himself.

We all know Joe well enough to know how hard the next scene must be for him, but he displays his developing manhood by knocking on the door of Taggart’s hotel room. Though Taggart is less than welcoming, Joe swallows his pride and says it was just a spilled beer, certainly not worth a shooting. Taggart seems unwilling to accept the apology, and Joe appears flabbergasted. “I’m trying to square this,” he insists.

Taggart seems determined to meet Joe in battle, however. “You may be willing to let this town call you a coward, boy, but I’m not.”

Joe, who is not fully a man yet, but merely striving earnestly in that direction, can take no more. Kid . . . bottle baby . . . boy . . . and now coward. It’s too much. “Nobody calls me a coward, mister.” Taggart tells him to be there in the morning and Joe leaves.

Unfortunately, at this point the writer is sidetracked with a gratuitous love story between Deadly Dan and Saloon Gal Sal. Though Dan ignored her greeting when they passed in the saloon earlier, Sally shows up at his door, and we learn that they were in love ten years ago. “You were the most handsome man and the nicest,” Sally tells Dan as they reminisce about meeting at a church social, where she was hiding behind a great big caramel fudge cake. (Does this girl need glasses? Joe is obviously the most handsome man in the territory, Adam having already left, with Hoss the only competition in the nicest department since Ben’s too old for her.) But, no, she’s devoted to Dan after all these years. Ah, first love, unfulfilled love, such loyal love. We learn that Deadly Dan is a gunfighter and Saloon Gal Sal is what she is, all because her father interfered with their love and then rejected her after driving off Dan. It is a nice love story, nicely developed, but time would be better spent focusing on Little Joe and his upcoming trauma.

Instead, we see but a brief scene of Joe driving home and are left to imagine the agony of soul he endures as he prepares to face Pa once he gets there. Facing Deadly Dan the next morning is a piece of cake by comparison, and we have been deprived of time spent on Joe angst.

Joe is in a non-communicative mood when he gets home. Letting the door bang shut, he heads directly for the stairs, wanting nothing more than escape and solitude. Fortunately, Pa is not in the room or there would be an immediate explosion. Instead, it’s Hoss who rises from the settee to encounter Joe as he mounts the stairs. “Hey, Joe. Hey, buddy,” he calls, using that brotherly pet name we all love to hear. He asks if Joe talked to that man.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Joe says.

“What do you mean you’d rather not talk about it?” Hoss puts out a hand to stop him.

Joe brushes it away. “Leave me alone, will you, Hoss?”

Hoss, concerned but respecting Joe’s manhood, lets him go.

Pa enters from the kitchen, hollering the name of his youngest son. Hoss explains that Joe did talk to the man, but he doesn’t think Joe had much success, as he said he didn’t want to talk about it and went on up to bed. Pa, being in Pa-mode still, will have none of that and declares that they are going to talk about it-right now!

Pa storms upstairs, knocks on Joe’s door, comes right in, uninvited, and demands to know if Joe talked to that man and what happened. What ensues is a classic lecture, such as must have taken place numerous times during Joe’s young life.

Joe is rigid, his very posture emphasizing that he’s been through this type of confrontation before, knows how Pa will react and must brace himself to hold firm against Pa in Pa-mode. “He wouldn’t accept my apology; I have no choice.”

Predictably, Pa blows up. “No choice? No choice except to go into town and get yourself killed tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Joe replies tersely, the strain evident on his face.

“What sense does that make?” Ben blares.

Frustrated by the inanity of his predicament, Joe loses control. “It doesn’t make sense; none of it makes sense! But what do you want me to do, just turn and walk away from it?”

“Yes,” Pa proclaims, voice rising, “just turn and walk away from it. That takes courage, too! There’s no dishonor in that.”

“I can’t do that,” Joe interrupts.

The lecture begins in earnest. “Now, you listen to me, young man. I don’t want you to have anything to do with it. Just forget the whole thing.”

Though still respectful, Joe finally determines to stand up for his manhood. “I’m a little old to be talked to like that.”

“Then act your age!” Ben bellows. “You stay here tomorrow; he’ll ride out of town and the whole thing will be forgotten. Is that understood?” Not waiting for an answer, Ben storms out as Joe pants for breath. Being lectured by Pa is an exhausting ordeal.

Hoss meets Ben downstairs and asks what happened.

Ben’s mood is evident as he responds, “What happened? There’s not going to be any gunfight-that’s what happened!” He stalks outside, and the Pa-mode facade begins to crack as he scruffs angrily at the dirt with his boot. We can tell by looking that this is not anger directed at his youngest son or even at the man endangering him. This is the anger of self-frustration. Pa has handled himself badly and he knows it, but he doesn’t know what he could have done differently and still kept Joe from meeting that gunslinger.

Hoss follows his father outside, stands looking at him for a moment, and then approaches, hands in his pockets, for one of the finest Pa-Hoss scenes in the entire series. As father and son stand side by side at the hitching rail, Hoss tells Pa not to worry.

Ben reluctantly admits that if this were thirty years ago and he were in Joe’s place, he knows what he’d be doing tomorrow morning.

Hoss nods solemnly. “Yeah, I know what you’d be doing, too, Pa. That’s what makes that rub so tough, ain’t it? You’d be going through with it.”

Frustrated with himself, Ben agrees. “Yeah, foolish as it might be, I’d be going.” He tells Hoss that he was just upstairs, telling Little Joe he couldn’t go. “Five years ago, I’d have locked the door on him and kept him in his room, but that’s treating him like a child, and he’s a man . . . and I’m afraid for him.”

Heart obviously in his throat, Hoss concurs. “I’m afraid for him, too. He’s your son, but he’s my brother.” Hoss asks how it would be if he went up and talked to Joe, as if maybe a brother’s voice might be heard where a father’s was not.

Ben has little hope, but he says listlessly, “You could try.”

Upstairs, Hoss opens the door to Joe’s room and asks if he can come in. Joe, flopped in thought on the bed, says to come on. Hoss does and begins speaking in a somewhat off-hand manner, proving that he has finesse when it comes to dealing with his little brother. “That feller really rode you pretty hard, huh?”

Joe rakes a hand through those luscious curls. “Yeah, he sure did.”

“Dadburn it, I know how you feel,” Hoss says sympathetically. “A man just naturally hates to get his pride hurt.” Notice that Hoss calls Joe a man and is treating him as an equal, whereas Pa, by his own admission treated Joe like a child and got nowhere. “But dadburnit Joe,” Hoss continues, his worry showing through, “it ain’t worth getting killed over.”

Joe looks up. “No more lectures, huh? I’ve been through that already tonight.”

Hoss wisely backs off, but still concerned, he suggests that maybe he ought to go into town and get his hands on that yahoo, who might not be so anxious to have a gunfight afterwards.

Seeing the love behind the offer, Joe smiles wryly. “That’s all I need – you fighting my battles for me. That would really fix me up.”

Hoss gets serious now as he tells Joe, “You’re my little brother. If anything was to happen to you…” He doesn’t get to complete the thought, for Joe interrupts to assure him that nothing is going to happen to him. Hoss demonstrates perception by asking if Joe means that he might not go through with it. Joe says he might not, but he has to think about it. “You can see that, can’t you?”

Hoss reluctantly admits that he can, “but I don’t like it none.”

Joe looks at him with all the love in the world and says simply, “Thanks.”

Hoss, who doesn’t think he’s accomplished anything, incredulously asks “For what?”

“For being my brother,” Joe says. Truly, Hoss has shown himself to be an ideal big brother and revealed why he is also Joe’s best friend.

The writer has triumphed in the last two scenes, but now (sigh) it’s back to town for more of the saga of Deadly Dan and Saloon Gal Sal. It’s pay night in Virginia City. (Aha! I knew it had to be, the way Joe was tossing out free drinks.) The town is rowdy, and Saloon Gal Sal prepares to go down and earn her living. Dan begs her to stay and she does.

Back at the Ponderosa, dawn breaks. We see Joe lying on his bed, fully clothed, jacket and all, arms folded under his head while he contemplates his decision, as he obviously has all night long. This is, of course, a mistake on the part of the writer. We should have Joe lying shirtless and sweating on his bed, tossing in restless turmoil. A missed opportunity (collective sigh). Joe kneads his brow, gets up to write a note (probably to Pa and Hoss) but evidently cannot find the right words. He crumples the paper, jumps up from his desk and begins buckling on his gun, preparing himself to do what a man’s gotta do.

Back to Dan and Sal again (sigh). Dan doesn’t want Sally on the street during the gunfight and tells her she’s still so beautiful. After she leaves, he gets out his gunfighter’s gun, a slick slip-out holster that proves him to be professional. A knock at the door reveals none other than Fitz, the supposed dude from St. Louis, and we finally learn for certain that he and Dan are in cahoots. Little Joe has been set up for this gunfight, so that Fitz and Dan can clean up on the bets made on his behalf. Fitz refers to this means of making a living as an “easy life.”

Dan is angry. “All I have to do is commit murder,” he snorts. “You think it gets easier, don’t you? You’re a coward, Fitz; you’ve never faced a man in your life.”

He seems to be comparing Fitz to Little Joe, who had the gumption to come up, trying to square things. “Poor kid, he’s gonna get killed just to make your richer.”

Then Dan=E2=80=99s sympathy turns inward as he ponders that someday some punk kid will take him and he’ll end up on boot hill with rocks instead of flowers. Ironically, the picture on the wall of the hotel room behind him appears to depict a gunman, ready for a face-off in the street. Only the best in custom decorating for visitors to the International House! Oh, the symbolism of it all, but I’d still rather see Joe.

Back at the Ponderosa, Pa is having his morning shave in his maroon bathrobe, as if this were any normal day at the ranch. He has evidently not even checked on Joe, perhaps assuming that since he so authoritatively ordered Joe to stay home, the boy will do so. (Pa, Pa, where have you been all Joe’s life?) Not Ben’s finest moment, to say the least. Hoss, who really shines in this episode, does better, for he has checked on his baby brother. He enters, shirt tail out, and tells Pa that Joe is gone. Ben wipes the shaving foam off his face and prepares to ride for town and save his youngest, although he’s getting rather a late start for that.

Back in the hotel room, Dan bemoans Fitz’s choice of target; the Cartwright kid is not the loud-mouthed clod normally sniffs out for these deadly games and Dan doesn’t really want to kill Joe.

Fitz explains that Cartwright has quite a following, making him good material for the wagers, but he doesn’t think Joe will show.

Dan has read Joe more accurately. Joe will show; pride will bring him, Dan insists. “That’s what roped me in – the great Code of the West. Face your man or sell out your self-respect. That’s what gets us all.” A succinct statement of the episode’s theme and a revelation of the meaning of its title, nicely phrased.

Next we view Sally, sitting alone in the saloon as the swamper mops the floor. The clock shows 6:15. Little Joe may have only fifteen minutes to live, and that’s who we should be viewing, preferably in a close-up, but (sigh) we’re looking at Sally again. She leaves the saloon to stand on the sidewalk as Dan goes past, pausing only a moment as he comes abreast her.

As Taggart arrives at the warehouse, Little Joe has only three minutes to show. Wayne sees the slick gun holster and comments that this isn’t what the guy was wearing the other day. Fitz shrugs the comment aside as inconsequential. (Incidentally, where is Roy Coffee during this entire fracas?)

Joe rides up, faces his man and it is Dan who crumples to the ground, winged in the right arm. Joe has proven himself a man, according to the great Code of the West, but he has actually been demonstrating his manhood throughout the episode. When his friends crowd around to congratulate him, he makes no response until Sam the bartender hands him the money and suggests that he pass it out. Joe tosses it in the air and says, “You think it was really worth it?”

Evidently, they do, as they all scramble for the money while he walks away.

Everyone ignores the wounded Dan, who gets up, dropping his gun to the ground to symbolize rejection of his old lifestyle, and starts to walk off. He moves past Sally, then stops and reaches back for her. She comes up to grab his hand, and they walk on together, presumably out of town. Sally is after all, wearing a blue dress.

Ben and Hoss ride into town just as Joe is leaving. Nothing is said; they simply wheel their horses around and ride back the way they came with Joe between them. We should, at least, have had a close-up view of Pa and Joe looking into each other’s eyes, conveying emotion as they could so well with only a look, but we are again deprived. Despite certain lost opportunities, however, this is an excellent, tightly written, episode, one is worthy of repeated viewing.

REVIEWS:

"I like the contrast in this episode. Joe is repeatedly taunted and accused of being a youth or child by Fitz, Taggart, and even Ben, yet throughout the episode he demonstrates wonderful maturity. He tries to laugh off the challenge, to back out of the gunfight gracefully, and even apologize when he wasn't in the wrong. When he's pushed too far to back off, he doesn't whine and plead to go through with the fight, he simply gives it a lot of thought, puts up with the lectures, then makes his own decision. Too bad Ben had to be so quick to play the belligerent, scolding parent and treat Joe like a child because if he'd opened his eyes and looked at the man his son had become, he'd have had reason to be proud." Helen

"It was a good ep and although I don't like it when LJ shoots people, I suppose he didn't have much choice in this one and at least he didn't kill the man. I know I'm strange, love Westerns, but hate the shootings LOL." Lynne

"To me, The Code is all about the relationships between the Cartwrights. First, Pa acts as the authoritative father, ordering Joe to skip the gunfight, and Joe is the rebellious son who resists his father's orders. Then Pa and Hoss talk, revealing the true depth of the love they feel for Joe. Hoss goes to Joe, offering support and even to fight his brother's battles in order to save him, showing his unspoken affection and friendship for his brother. Joe reacts with gratitude and admits to Hoss what he can't tell Pa -- that he's not sure what he should do. When Joe finally decides to go to town, he starts to write a letter, but realizes he can't put into words what he feels, both the need to test his manhood as well as his feelings for Hoss and Pa. Finally, Pa and Hoss, once they realize Joe has left for town, put aside all feelings except their concern for Joe. This episode really shows the whole gamut of emotions and relationships which endear the Cartwrights to us." Susan Grote

"I absolutely love this episode, and in my humble opinion, the fatherly/brotherly talks which occur in Joe's room are the essence of the spirit of Bonanza; perfect examples of what made it such a great show." Gina

"It was already mentioned that "the Code" contained one of the best Pa/Hoss scenes ever. It also contained one of the best Hoss/Joe scenes ever. I could play that scene over and over and cry every time when Joe thanks Hoss for being his brother. I feel that there was a deeper meaning behind the "thank you". Joe didn't really think he could beat that gunfighter, and I think in a way Joe was saying "I love you" and "maybe goodbye". And it was so touching that Hoss didn't say anything, just got this choked-up look on his face and just nodded and left. WHAAA!, Pass the kleenex." Ginny

"I think it contains some of the best father/son scenes (between both LJ and Hoss) and the best brother scene between LJ and Hoss. They could have done away with most of Saloon Gal Sal's part but that's just MHO! This is one of the eps that makes me tear up when the family scenes are shown." Judy

"Pa not checking on Joe. That always annoys me. You would have thought it would have been the first thing he did. Maybe it was a case of burying his head in the sand - he didn't want it to be confirmed that Joe had gone to town, preferring to believe that he was still safe in his room." HelenB

"One part that always stands out for me is the last few scenes. When Joe arrives in town, you watch him walk away from the horses (mind you I do worry for the horse behind him) and then he stands there waiting and the tension is mounting because at this stage you're really not sure if Joe is going to be shot, obviously not killed, but at least injured. Then when it is all over the way he is so detached from the rest of the men scrabbling for their bets. This is really powerful acting." Pat

"Ben and Hoss ride into town just as Joe is leaving. Nothing is said; they simply wheel their horses around and ride back the way they came with Joe between them. We should, at least, have had a close-up view of Pa and Joe looking into each other’s eyes, conveying emotion as they could so well with only a look, but we are again deprived. Despite certain lost opportunities, however, this is an excellent, tightly written, episode, one worthy of repeated viewing." Puchi Ann

"It is intriguing to me that the episode ends with us having compassion for Taggart, but the only thing Joe ever knows of Taggart is the cold, stubborn man who inexplicably must go through a gunfight over a spilt beer. Yet Joe has an profound effect on the man's life without even knowing it." Sue W.

"There were some missed opportunities by the show's author, of course -- but it is one of my personal favorites---as they all had some serious angst moments going---it also displayed the affection of all of the Cartwrights." wrangler