A Question of Honor
To Terri, thank you for a wonderful idea and an equally wonderful friendship
The horse’s hooves thrummed a steady beat on the earthen path that led to the sprawling ranch house. As he rode, Joe Cartwright’s thoughts raced frantically. He planned his speech, marshaling his arguments like a general planning a battle. He tried to anticipate every objection in order to have a counterattack in mind. But as he approached the ranch house that had been his home for all of his twenty-two years, the thoughts disappeared from his mind, like smoke on the wind, leaving him with only a vague sense of unease.
Slowing his horse to a walk and entering the yard at a sedate pace, just as his father liked him to do, Joe dismounted and tied the pinto to the hitching rail in front of the house. His steps lagged as he headed for the front door, a fluttering sense of unease developing in the pit of his stomach. Quietly he opened the door and pushed his way into the great room, removing his hat and gunbelt out of long habit, carefully placing both in their designated spots. A quick glance at the hat rack showed him that both of his brothers and his father were home. Joe sighed. He had hoped that Adam and Hoss would still be out. He didn’t relish facing his entire family all at once.
“Is that you, Joe?” Ben Cartwright’s baritone voice called from his desk, the welcoming note bringing a queasy smile to his son’s lips.
“Yeah, it’s me, Pa!” Joe called, and he began the walk toward that desk, his stride so unlike his usual springy bounce across a room that Ben knew right away that his youngest son had something on his mind.
Ben looked up expectantly, a warm smile on his lips. Just the sight of Joe made him smile these days. Joe had lived through a turbulent adolescence, but he seemed to be maturing with fits and starts. Ben chuckled inwardly at the thought of how many of the gray hairs on his head he could attribute to his most volatile son. The past three months had been so peaceful that Ben knew it was time for an explosion of some sort. He could tell by Joe’s walk that the explosion was about to happen, and he braced himself for the onslaught. His eyes bright with expectation, he allowed the silence to build, knowing he was driving Joe to a fever pitch of anxiety. “Want to tell me about it, son?” he asked finally, a knowing smile playing about his lips.
Joe gasped in astonishment. “How do you always know, Pa?” he asked ruefully, his hands on his hips in exasperation. “I can’t keep anything from you!”
Ben laughed, the booming sound bringing Hoss in from the kitchen and Adam down the stairs. Joe swallowed anxiously as his brothers moved across the room to join the group. He felt Hoss’ large hand clap him on the back, the blow almost propelling him across his father’s desk.
“It’s about time ya’ got home, Short Shanks,” Hoss said jovially. “Hop Sing’s been fussin’ about supper for half an hour now. He said if you weren’t home in ten minutes he was goin’ back to China!” The men laughed at the old joke; they all knew that Hop Sing wasn’t going anywhere.
Joe patted Hoss’ large stomach. “I think you could stand to miss a few of Hop Sing’s meals, big brother,” he quipped, ducking away from Hoss’ feint in his direction.
Adam smiled at the antics of his younger brothers, and as he moved to perch on the edge of the desk, he asked quietly, “Did you hear any news in town, Joe? I’ve heard there’s some trouble with some of the local tribes.”
Joe lost his sense of merriment, as he thought about what he had to say to his family, and he ducked his head sheepishly. “Not much new in town, Adam,” he said quietly, and then taking a deep breath, he added, “I’ve got some news of my own though.”
Ben’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “Oh really, Joe, what news is that?” Ben quaked inwardly. He knew that whatever Joe had to say wasn’t going to make him happy. Joe’s agitation since he had entered the house telegraphed his words to anyone who knew him.
Joe’s eyes were huge in his expressive face. “I...I’ve joined the army, Pa,” he stammered out in a rush, determined to get it over with.
If Joe had announced that he had set fire to the sheriff’s office and then proceeded to dance a war dance on the carpet, he couldn’t have shocked his family any more. Three men stood frozen, as if they were carved in stone. Hoss’ jaw had dropped, and his mouth was hanging open, while Adam frowned severely. He glanced at Ben’s white face, and saw his father’s clenched knuckles. “Come on, Joe. That’s not funny,” he said sternly. “You’re upsetting Pa.”
Hoss began to laugh hysterically, his huge hand slapping at his knee as he shook with mirth. “Oh that was a good one, Short Shanks!” he gasped finally. “Joined the army!” Hoss wiped tears from his eyes as his laughter continued uncontrollably.
Joe gulped, and then, knowing that he had no choice, he spoke to the silent man who stared at him in shock. “I’m sorry, Pa, I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that. But, I’ve joined the army. There was a recruiter in town, and I signed up with him. I’ll be leaving at the end of the week to report for duty.”
Hoss’ laughter died abruptly as he realized that Joe wasn’t joking. “Joe, this ain’t funny,” he said as he moved to shake Joe’s slender shoulders. “You cain’t join the army. What about the Ponderosa and your work here?”
Adam rose from the desk, towering over his youngest brother’s slight form. “You’re just going to have to tell them that you’re not joining any army, Joe. We need you here.”
Joe ignored his brothers and focused on his father, who had yet to speak a word. He grimaced at the sight of his father’s pale face, but he plunged onwards, knowing he had to get it all out. “I’m sorry, Pa! It all happened so fast. I knew that I wouldn’t have a chance to talk to you before I signed up, but the recruiter needed a decision right away.” Joe’s voice trailed off, and his eyes pleaded for his father to say something.
Ben moved then. He paced around the desk, Hoss and Adam parting before him, and Joe flinched as his father reached out for him. Ben’s eyes were hard with anger, but his touch was restrained. “I think I need to hear more of an explanation, Joseph,” he said softly, but his voice left no room for disobedience. “What’s this all about? Why have you done something like this without talking to your family first?”
Joe’s eyes dropped, and he tried to move away from his father, but Ben’s grip was like iron. “Well, Pa, I went into town for the mail, and I ran into this army recruiter. He was so convincing Pa.” Joe’s tone was pleading, his eyes begged for his father’s understanding. “They need good men, they’re really short handed right now, and, well......” Joe stopped, his left hand moving to pry at the fingers that were gripping his arm. In the morning he would find a bruise on that arm that would take weeks to fade.
Ben’s body quivered with suppressed anger. “Well, you’re just going to have to go into town and tell this recruiter that you’ve changed your mind, Joseph. You can’t join the army. We need you here.”
“I can’t, Pa.” Joe’s voice was quiet, his body taut with anxiety. “I’ve signed a contract, and the recruiter told me that it was binding by law.” Again he reached to touch his father and cringed as Ben shook him off.
“Then, I’ll ride into town and have a talk with this so called recruiter,” Adam stated with some satisfaction. “He’ll tear up that contract when I’ve finished with him.”
Hoss nodded vigorously. “Yeah, jest let me get my hands on that fella. He’ll let Joe outta the army so fast it’ll make his head swim.”
“No!” Joe’s voice was rising, and he fought for control. “I’ve made this decision, and no one is going to interfere. I’m over twenty-one and I’m legally an adult. If I want to join the army, I can join the army.”
Ben turned on his son, using his height to his own advantage. “I’m asking you to change your mind, Little Joe.” Ben’s voice was quiet, his eyes dark with an inner pain. “I don’t want you to leave the Ponderosa.”
Joe winced at the naked feeling on his father’s face. “I can’t change my mind, Pa. I’m sorry.” The simple words hung quivering in the air, the battle lines drawn between the two men.
Hop Sing barged into the room, his singsong voice stridently calling them to order. “Dinner on table, Cartwrights eat now!”
He stopped seeing the four tense men, and knew that he had stepped into the middle of one of the family’s major disagreements. Looking at Joe’s white face and wide eyes, he knew instantly who had caused the uproar and his heart sank. Hop Sing had helped raise Little Joe from babyhood, and the boy had a huge place in the little man’s heart. In an effort to ease the palpable tension in the room, Hop Sing again ordered his family to the table. Getting no response from anyone, not even his faithful Hoss, the Oriental man shook his head and stalked back to the kitchen, a trail of Chinese wafting through the air in his wake.
Hop Sing’s arrival broke the Cartwrights out of the trance that had kept them still. Ben sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. “I knew the peace and quiet was too good to last,” he muttered. “Let’s eat and talk about this again after dinner.”
Joe felt his stomach lurch. “I’m not hungry, Pa. I’m just going to go on up to bed,” he said quietly. Then he turned on his heels, fleeing the room, all the while feeling like a coward for not being able to face his father’s pain.
Three stunned and silent men watched the boots fly up the stairs, and listened until they heard the door to Joe’s bedroom slam shut. Turning back to each other then, they silently made their way to the dinner table and Hop Sing’s elaborate meal. The little cook was doomed to be disappointed that evening, as most of the dishes were sent back to the kitchen untouched.
~*~*~*~*~
Ben Cartwright rode toward Virginia City in a fury. His face was set in a scowl, and his eyes were grim. His mission was to find the Army recruiter who had persuaded Little Joe to sign a contract. Breakfast at the ranch had been a bitter affair. Little Joe had been sullen and argumentative; he was clearly feeling defensive about his decision. His brothers had alternated between scolding and cajoling their brother, which had added to Joe’s sour mood. Ben had tried persuasion and then threats. Little Joe remained unmoved. He had signed a contract and he was going to live with his decision for good or ill. After a plea for his family’s understanding, Joe had stormed out of the house, leaving for a solitary day of riding fence. It hadn’t escaped Ben’s notice that Joe looked grateful to be getting out of his family’s sight for a while.
The town came into view and Ben rode straight for the Sheriff’s office in the center of town. If anyone knew where to find the Army recruiter it would be Roy Coffee. Roy didn’t miss much that happened in his town. Roy Coffee looked up from his paper-strewn desk with a welcoming smile when his oldest friend walked into the office. His smile dimmed as he took in Ben’s grim face and enraged eyes.
“Trouble, Ben?” he asked, coming quickly to his feet and moving around the desk.
Ben planted his large frame in front of the sheriff. “I need to know where I can find an Army recruiter who was in town yesterday, Roy. The man talked Little Joe into joining the army!” Ben’s hands clenched into fists, and his knuckles showed white.
A look of sheer astonishment flickered across the sheriff’s face. “Little Joe joined the Army?” he asked incredulously. “Why on earth would the boy want to go and do a thing like, Ben?”
Ben’s fisted hands moved to his hips and he glared at the Sheriff. “If I knew that Roy, I wouldn’t be here in town talking to you, now would I?” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s why I need to find this recruiter. I need to talk some sense into him and get him to rip up Little Joe’s contract.”
Roy shook his head ruefully. “I’m sorry, Ben, but that recruiter fell rode out of town last night. He said his troop was waiting’ for ‘im just outside of town. You ain’t gonna find him anytime soon.”
Ben’s face took on a look of carved stone. “Do you know which way they were heading? Which town were they going to visit next?” Ben’s feet began to pace out a rhythmic pattern on the office floor.
Roy leaned against his cluttered desk, and gazed with concern at his friend. “He didn’t say, Ben. I wish I could help. But I didn’t think it was important at the time.”
Ben’s sigh echoed through the room. “You wouldn’t have any way of knowing, Roy. I’m not blaming you. I guess I’ll have to ride to the fort with Little Joe when he ‘reports for duty’, as he calls it. I’ll find some way to get him out of this.”
Roy shook his head. If Little Joe Cartwright had decided to join the army, then his father was going to have a hard time getting him to change his mind. Roy had watched the struggles between father and son since Joe was a little boy. He wouldn’t bet a nickel on Ben’s chances of winning this one. He walked Ben to the door, his arm across his friend’s shoulders. With a parting murmur of comfort, he watched as Ben mounted his horse to begin the long ride back to the Ponderosa. With a sigh, Roy turned and made his way back to his desk, but this time he sat without looking at his paperwork. He could imagine all too well the scene that was going to play out on the Ponderosa, and he was glad that he wasn’t going to be out there to be part of it.
~*~*~*~*~
Joe’s last week at home flew by in a blur. His family alternated between threats of locking him in his room and bouts of sadness at his coming departure. Joe spent some time packing a few things and saying goodbye to his friends. When at last he was ready to go, his father and brothers gathered with him in the Great Room of the Ponderosa.
Ben had spent the intervening week sending telegrams to everyone he knew. He was disheartened when they all confirmed that Joe was legally an adult and entitled to enlist in the army if he chose to do so. There was nothing his father could do, or say, about it. Ben was still against the idea of Joe leaving, but he was determined that Joe wouldn’t go away on bad terms with his family. As he looked at his youngest son, a small valise in his hand, descending the steps, Ben’s heart lurched in his chest. He struggled to keep the grief from his face, but he couldn’t make himself smile.
Joe looked at his father with both pity and understanding. He felt guilty for putting his family through the turmoil of his leaving, but he was convinced that he had made the right decision. He couldn’t back down now. It wasn’t in his nature to give up so easily. With a sigh, Joe approached his father. “I’ll be home for a visit as soon as I get leave, Pa. I promise,” Joe said softly. He gazed steadily at the older man, and was relieved when his father gathered him into a fierce embrace.
“I wish you weren’t going, Joe,” Ben whispered against his son’s hair. Pulling back to look into a pair of green eyes that were shadowed with sorrow, he tried to speak calmly. “Stay safe, Joe. You know I’ve been against your decision from the beginning, but you’re an adult now, and entitled to go where you want to go. But please remember, that this will always be your home, and we’ll be waiting for you to come back.”
Joe grabbed his father’s forearm and nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Pa. I know this isn’t easy for you. I’m going to miss you.”
Joe turned to his brothers, who stood watching the scene with frustration evident in every line of their bodies. Approaching Adam, Joe reached out for a handshake, only to be swept into Adam’s open arms. “Come back soon, Kid,” Adam said softly, and then he turned abruptly aside, surreptitiously wiping at his eyes with the back of his sleeve.
Hoss crowded in to take Adam’s place, throwing a beefy arm around Joe’s shoulders. “Yeah, Short Shanks, you lissen to your big brother, ya hear? We want you home soon. Ya got a ton of chores that’re gonna pile up while you’re gone.” His hug almost squeezed the breath out of Joe’s body. “And don’t be thinkin’ that Ol’ Adam an’ I are gonna do ‘em for ya, either.”
Joe grinned, “I’ll be back soon, brother. I promise.” He strode for the door, determined to make the parting as brief as possible. He’d already asked his family not to accompany him to the Fort, fully aware of the scene that Ben Cartwright could make if he chose. The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Three men stood frozen in place for a brief moment, and then Ben sank into his favorite chair, a shaky hand going to his forehead. Adam moved quickly to his side, and crouched next to his father, easily balancing on his heels. “He’ll be back soon, Pa. You’ll see,” he said with a forced confidence. “Joe’s a tough kid; the army isn’t going to know what hit them.”
Ben looked at his oldest son gratefully. “Thanks, Adam,” he murmured. He heaved a sigh and then levered himself to his feet, his movements suddenly seeming slow and old. “Well, there’s work to do, boys. Let’s get at it.”
The three men moved for the door and the start of another day on the Ponderosa.
~*~*~*~*~
Joe eased himself onto his bunk with a groan. His muscles screamed a protest, until he positioned himself on the bed. The cessation of movement brought blessed relief to his abused body. Since his arrival at the Fort two weeks earlier, he had been drilled morning, noon and night. The Sergeant in charge of the new recruits seemed to delight in taunting “the rich kid” who had recently arrived in his platoon. He apparently felt that Joe was dabbling in the army because he was bored with his elegant life as the son of one of the richest men in the territory. No amount of hard work on Joe’s part disabused the man of his notion, and he continued to work Joe twice as hard as any of the new men. Joe moaned a little as his muscles twinged again, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind. He was determined to show the Sergeant that he didn’t know what Joe Cartwright was made of, and he was too proud to show weakness in front of his fellow soldiers.
Just as Joe’s thoughts turned in that direction, he heard the sounds of boots entering the barracks, and knew that the rest of his troop was arriving back from the mess hall. The ribald shouts and raucous laughter swirled around him, but while he smiled at some of the comments, he didn’t join in with the banter. He closed his eyes, and sent his thought winging back to the Ponderosa, a picture forming in his mind. He could almost see his father and brothers seated around the dining table, with Hop Sing chatting in Chinese, while the events of the day were discussed. A pang of homesickness twisted through his body, so sharp he drew a ragged breath.
So engrossed was he in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the approach of a pair of booted feet. He grunted painfully when those boots swiped at his legs, his eyes flying open to see a large man lowering himself to Joe’s bunk. “Hey, Cartwright, you looked pretty good out there today,” the man commented. “For a rich kid.” A chuckle took away the sting of the words, and Joe smiled.
“Thanks, Thompson.” Joe’s glance was friendly. He sat up painfully, clutching at his aching stomach muscles as he did so. “I just wish the Sergeant would think so, and lay off me for a while.”
Steve Thompson was a big man who reminded Joe of his brother, Hoss. He had a ready laugh and was always willing to commiserate with Joe at the end of a long day of training. Thompson had worked cattle for several of the ranches in the territory, and he and Joe could spend hours discussing the merits of the horses at the various ranches they had both visited. It felt good to have someone to talk to, and Joe felt his homesickness recede just a little at the sight of the man’s cheerful face.
Thompson’s friendly smile faded just a little as he considered Joe’s last comment. “Watch out for the Sergeant, Joe,” he warned. “Roberts sure seems to have it in for you.”
Joe nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I could tell. He can’t get past the fact that my last name is Cartwright.”
Thompson slapped Joe on the back, chuckling at the wince of pain he elicited. “Well, we all know that the name Cartwright means “rich, lazy kid” don’t we?”
Joe scowled in mock anger and playfully punched Thompson’s shoulder. “Yeah, well, I’d hate to tell you what the name Thompson means. It might hurt your feelings.”
Thompson’s reply was lost in the sudden rustle of men jumping to their feet. Sergeant Roberts strode through the room for his last inspection of the day, and he frowned to see Joe struggling to his feet. “Cartwright,” he barked. “Ten-hut!”
Joe snapped to attention, his hand rising stiffly in salute. He stood in the accepted stance, his eyes focused on a point just past the Sergeant’s shoulder. “Yessir!” he snapped crisply in reply.
“You’re slow to get up, soldier,” the Sergeant snarled. “I expect instant attention when I walk in the room. Take twenty laps around the parade ground before you turn in for the night.” He smirked at the horror-struck expression on Joe’s face. “Do it now, soldier, or I’ll make in forty laps.”
With a resigned look back at Thompson, Joe marched his weary body out to the parade ground and began to run the ordered laps. His whole body ached with weariness, and his muscles shrieked in protest, but he kept at it doggedly. He deliberately turned off the part of his mind that focused on his physical body, and allowed himself to picture Lake Tahoe at sunset, a fishing pole in his hands and his brother Hoss at his side. His legs automatically followed the set pattern, while Joe’s every thought yearned for home.
~*~*~*~*~
Adam entered the ranch house on silent feet. He laid his gunbelt in its accustomed spot, and noted that his father and brother were home. He sighed as he thought of the missing member of his family. The house had seemed so silent and still without Little Joe. Hoss had been moping for the last month, and Ben Cartwright was a shadow of his former self. Adam squared his shoulders, determined to shake his family out of the doldrums, even if the news he bore wasn’t good.
“Pa! Hoss!” he called out. “Where is everybody?” Adam quickly strode across the room, heading for Hop Sing’s kitchen. He almost collided with the large body of his younger brother as Hoss barreled around the corner.
“What’s all the shouting about, Adam?” Hoss asked eagerly. “Have you brought us a letter from Little Joe?”
Adam smiled affectionately at the larger man. “No, I’m afraid not, Hoss. I picked up the mail, but there was nothing from that little scamp. He’s probably too busy marching with the other soldiers to write to his family.” He looked around searchingly. “Where’s Pa?”
Hoss shrugged his shoulders, his eyes losing some of their brightness at the lack of a letter from Joe. “He’s around here somewhere, older brother. What are you so riled up about, Adam?”
Adam frowned and rubbed a hand through his dark hair. “I heard some news in town and I thought you’d both be interested in hearing it. I’ll go see if I can find Pa.”
“I’m right behind you, son.” The deep voice came from behind Adam, and he jumped slightly.
As he wheeled around to see his father advancing across the room, Adam was once again struck by the changes in his father in the last month. Ben seemed to have aged ten years since Little Joe had joined the army. Ben never complained, but Adam knew he was missing Little Joe terribly. A sudden wave of guilt washed across Adam as he realized that perhaps Ben had felt the same way during his years away at college. Adam smiled a greeting at the older man, as he reached into his vest pocket to produce a sheaf of letters.
“I brought the mail from town, Pa.” He shook his head quickly to forestall the question. “No, there’s nothing from Joe.” As Adam spoke, he moved across the room to the decanter of whiskey, pouring three glasses without asking if the others wanted one.
Ben raised his eyebrows as he accepted the drink from Adam’s hand. “You seem a little on edge, Adam. What’s going on?”
Adam quickly handed Hoss the second glass of whiskey, and then picked up his own. “I heard some news today, and I thought we should talk about it.” He took a sip of his drink and continued. “The whole town’s buzzing about the latest rash of incidents with the Indians. It seems that several of the outlying small ranches have been hit by raiding parties. Winnemucca claims that they aren’t his braves, but no one is sure how much the chief really knows.”
Hoss whistled appreciatively at the news. “Is everyone on those ranches all right?” he asked soberly.
Adam shook his head gravely. “Someone’s been selling guns to the Indians. The raiding parties have all been well armed with the latest rifles. Bob Henderson and several of his hands were killed.”
Ben’s forehead furrowed in thought, and he looked at his sons’ gravely. “I think I need to make a trip out to see Winnemucca,” he said slowly. “He probably knows more than he’s letting on. Even if these aren’t his braves, he must know that allowing the young men of the tribes to buy guns can only lead to trouble. The soldiers at the Fort won’t hesitate to move against the Indians, if they think it’ll stop the gun trade.”
A momentary stab of alarm pierced through the older man as he realized that should the Army move against the Indians, Little Joe would most likely be in on the action. Ben chided himself silently for worrying needlessly. Little Joe was a man now, and had made the decision to join the Army. He would be able to take care of himself. All the same, Ben uttered a silent prayer that Little Joe wouldn’t see any fighting so soon in his new career.
Adam was watching Ben carefully, his father’s thoughts transparent to his eye. “I thought you might want to go out to see Winnemucca, Pa,” Adam said quietly. “I’ll ride along with you. We need to get this situation under control quickly. The people in town are ready to go out and start shooting anything that even looks like an Indian.”
Hoss grinned. “You two ain’t goin’ nowhere without me along to watch out for you. I’ll ride along with you too, Pa.” The big man clapped his father on the back, making him choke on his drink. “You guys ain’t gonna get to have all the fun.”
Adam smiled to see the spark of happiness return to his brother’s eyes. It had been too long since he’d seen that big grin. Maybe this crisis would be just the thing they needed to get their minds off Little Joe. “I guess we’ll be riding out in the morning then,” he said, glancing at his father for confirmation.
Ben nodded abstractedly, his mind already working on the problem that was facing the community. His friendship with Winnemucca had averted problems with the Indians on several occasions. He hoped that this would be another time when the Chief could be reasoned with. Before the men could discuss the situation further, Hop Sing announced dinner and stridently demanded that his family sit down and eat. Moving toward the table, the conversation about the mysterious influx of guns into the territory continued. The melancholy thoughts about Little Joe had been temporarily banished from the Ponderosa.
~*~*~*~*~
Little Joe slumped over the metal plate that contained an unappetizing mixture that the army cook called dinner. He listlessly stirred his fork through the contents, but never raised it to his mouth. He jumped when a large hand slapped him heartily on the shoulder, and then looked up to smile miserably at Steve Thompson as he slid into the chair next to him.
A look of compassion crossed the older man’s face, but he quickly buried it in a warm smile. “What’s wrong, cowboy?” he asked briefly. “The Sarge gettin’ you down?”
Joe nodded tiredly. “Yeah, just between you and me, this army life is a lot tougher than I thought it would be.” He shook his head in disgust. “And that Sergeant’s attitude doesn’t help matters. He acts like he wants me to quit.” Again Joe turned his attention to the unappetizing meal, and he tried gamely to swallow a mouthful of the slimy green substance he assumed was a vegetable.
Thompson grunted a response, and tucked into his own meal, an exact duplicate of the one in front of Joe. “He probably does. The Sarge don’t hold with rich kids joining the army on a whim.”
Joe flushed angrily. “I didn’t join on a whim!” he began angrily, only to stop when Thompson held up a warning hand.
“Now, sonny, I didn’t say you did,” the older man replied. “But the Sarge doesn’t know that. He thinks you’re just some stuck up brat who had a fight with Papa and ran off to join the army to spite the old man.”
“Where would he get an idea like that?” Joe demanded in astonishment. “I certainly never gave him any reason to believe that.”
“The Sarge has seen a lot of men join up in his time in the service, and he draws his own conclusions,” Thompson replied. “That’s not saying he’s right, mind you. It’s just saying that’s what he thinks.”
Joe’s splutter of indignation was cut off by the arrival of a detachment of Military Police. They marched into the Mess Hall and positioned themselves on either side of Sergeant Roberts as he strode briskly into the assembly. Joe’s eyes widened when the little group moved inexorably toward him, and he paled involuntarily.
“Ten-hut!” The words rang through the mess hall, and well more than a hundred men stood in unison, shoulders back, eyes facing forward. Joe moved with them automatically, but his eyes revealed his nervous tension.
The Sergeant stopped in front of Joe, his face impassive, his eyes like flint. “Cartwright,” he barked.
“Yessir!” Joe’s response was crisp, his weeks of military training making the response instinctive. His hand was locked in a salute. His eyes looked stonily over the Sergeant’s shoulder.
“You’re under arrest!” The Sergeant responded curtly. “You’ll be coming with me to the stockade.”
Joe’s eyes widened in horror. “Under arrest, but...” he sputtered, his salute falling away as he stepped forward involuntarily. “ For what?”
The Sergeant looked at him impassively. “For theft, Cartwright. We found several rifles that belong in the equipment room hidden under your bunk. We’ve had a rash of missing rifles since you joined our little troop. I think we’ve found out who’s been taking them.” The Sergeant couldn’t keep the satisfaction from creeping into his voice. “Now march, soldier.”
Joe stumbled forward, the protests dying on his lips. He marched, white-faced and silent before the hundred other soldiers at the fort, feeling their eyes on his retreating form. He wanted to stand up and proclaim his innocence, but he couldn’t. These men would be quick to believe the worst. As the little group moved through the gathering gloom of twilight, Joe’s mind raced. What was the penalty for theft in the army? Was there any way to prove his innocence? Was a man accused of a crime allowed a lawyer? Joe’s mind turned toward home and his father. Oh Pa! The silent cry filled his mind. I don’t want to hurt you with this.
Joe’s emotions were a tangled wreck when the group finally reached the little stockade. He let himself be pushed forward into a cell, turning in time to see the door swing shut, firmly locked by the man in charge of the army’s prisoners. Joe gripped the bars tightly. “What now, Sergeant?” he called to the older man. “What are you going to do with me?”
The Sergeant blinked at the question. “Do? I’m going to see that you pay for your crime, Private Cartwright!” He turned on his heel and crisply marched from the building, leaving a crestfallen Joe in his wake.
Joe stumbled to the cot and sank down, his head buried in his hands. This was going to kill his Pa.
~*~*~*~*~
Joe sat numbly in the small room that served as the courtroom for the Army post. He glanced nervously at the small crowd of men in uniforms who filled every available chair in the room. He spotted Thompson in the back row, and was briefly heartened to see his tight nod and thin smile of concern. At least he had one supporter in that sea of unfriendly faces.
The assembled men were awaiting the return of the seven man tribunal that had listened impassively to an array of testimony from several sources. Sergeant Roberts had testified to the discovery of the rifles under Joe’s mattress. He was only the first of several men to do so. Apparently the Sergeant had been on one of his unannounced inspections with several of the base commandants in tow. The rifles had been hauled out in full view of a lieutenant and a captain. Both of whom were even now scowling at the hapless Private Cartwright. The two men had been more than willing to testify that they had seen the sergeant pull the rifles out of Cartwright’s bunk, and that they had only been missed from the arsenal that very morning. All three had testified that the finding of the rifles had been timed perfectly. They expressed the belief that given a few more hours, Cartwright would have found a way to make those rifles disappear, as so many others had in the past two months.
Joe had taken the stand in his own defense, but he could only profess his innocence, and not much more than that. Since no one could document the time of the theft, Joe had no way of proving his whereabouts during the crucial time. That the evidence against him was purely circumstantial didn’t seem to bother anyone in the courtroom. Joe felt the weight of condemnation from many of the men in the room. He didn’t need to see the faces of the seven men who were now filing back into the room to see that he had already been judged guilty in the eyes of his fellow soldiers.
Joe squared his shoulders, determined to meet his fate like a Cartwright. He looked straight at the returning men, who filed into their seats with solemn expressions on their faces. The man who had been appointed to defend Private Cartwright stood quickly, ready to receive their verdict. The camp commander returned to his seat and motioned for everyone in the courtroom to resume sitting. Joe carefully kept his face blank as the commander polled the members of the tribunal for their verdict.
A resounding cry of “guilty” was heard from each of the seven throats, and a low hum of conversation filled the room. The Commander banged a small gavel and everyone instantly quieted, eyes riveted to the drama playing out in front of them. Joe stood in despair as he waited for the Commander to pass sentence on him.
“Private Cartwright,” Commander Caton said formally. “You are hereby sentenced to 20 lashes, and a dishonorable discharge from the service. You are a disgrace to the uniform. The sentence is to be carried out immediately.” He stood and moved from the room, leaving a stunned Private behind him.
Joe looked at the man who had been his defender. “Discharged!” he exclaimed. “What does he mean discharged?”
The advocate looked back at Joe in disdain. “He means that you are no longer a member of this man’s army, Mister Cartwright. That is after you’ve been flogged of course.” He motioned to the Military Police who were even now approaching the young man. “It looks like your escort is ready for you. Good day, sir.” The older man walked off without a backwards glance.
Joe stood quietly as the little detachment of guards motioned for him to move from the courtroom. His brief hesitation earned him a few black looks, but when his feet finally started to move, the police officers settled down. Apparently there was to be no delay in carrying out the sentence, and Joe was hustled to the center of the Post, where a circle of soldiers had gathered.
Joe swallowed nervously as he spotted the post that stood in the center of the square. He had seen several soldiers disciplined for one reason or another during his time in the army, and he knew all too well what was about to happen. He numbly obeyed the order to remove his shirt, and let himself be secured to the post.
The guards were quick and efficient with their work. They had performed the same duty many times. As the watching circle of soldiers grew quiet, one of the guards unveiled a long black whip, coiled sinuously around his arm. With a crack of the well-oiled leather, the whip took on a life of its own.
Joe closed his eyes to shut out the sight of the dark leather, and his hands tightened convulsively onto the rope that restrained his wrists. The guard took a couple of practice swings with the whip and then moved in for the first real blow. Joe let out an involuntary gasp of pain as the leather cut across his shoulders leaving a trail of fire in its wake. A second blow quickly followed the first, and then another. Joe tried to keep from crying out, but the pain was agonizing. By the tenth blow he couldn’t control himself, and by the fifteenth he was weeping openly. The strokes continued inexorably until the required twenty had been delivered.
~*~*~*~*~
Joe moaned as he felt the fire consume his back. The moan became a loud groan and his eyelids flickered open. As he blinked and focused he became aware that he was in a sparsely furnished room, its walls painted a sterile white. Joe struggled to remember where he was and what had happened to him, but the pain in his back overwhelmed all coherent thoughts. Battling back the pain with a strength his father would have recognized, Joe struggled to sit up. As he rose upright on the cot, the figure of a man swam into his field of vision. He recognized the base doctor, a man he’d had little contact with before now.
“I see you’re awake.” The voice was calm, but not overly compassionate. “Here, take this.” The doctor thrust a glass full of a cloudy liquid at Joe.
Joe accepted the glass and swallowed, his thirst overriding his qualms about drinking something that looked so repulsive. Gagging on the bitter taste, he handed the glass back to the doctor. “What was that?” he choked out.
“Something to take the edge of the pain, Mr. Cartwright. I’ve put a salve on your back, and I’ll give you more of this medicine to take every six hours on the trail. That should hold you until you get home.” The doctor’s face was stern and forbidding. He pointed to a neatly folded pile of civilian clothing. “They’ve sent your things over here. You’re not to go back to the barracks. I’ll expect you to get dressed and be out of here within the hour.”
Joe gaped at the man in disbelief. “Just like that?” he asked in bewilderment. “Here’s your hat, get out!” Joe’s voice rose on the last few words, and he struggled to control the shaking that had begun to wrack his body.
“You’ve been dishonorably discharged, Mr. Cartwright,” the doctor said dispassionately. “You’re lucky that you weren’t sentenced to hard labor. It was the lack of evidence that saved you from that, I believe. But you’ve been ordered to leave this installation. My job was to make you ready for your departure. I judge you medically fit to travel.” The doctor turned to leave, but spun on his heel momentarily. “Ride slowly, Mr. Cartwright. I hear you’re from over Virginia City way. If you take the medicine and don’t push too hard, you’ll be all right for the ride.”
With that advice, the doctor left the room, leaving a silent young man behind him. Joe looked at the pile of clothing and forced himself to move toward them. He struggled to slide his shirt over his back, gasping as the cloth pressed against the wounds on his back. With effort he managed to dress completely, although his boots caused him some problems. Bending over made his head swim, as the shirt rubbed against the lash marks. At last he was dressed and ready to go. All of his belongings were in a pile by the door, along with the saddlebags he had brought with him. Joe carefully stowed his things into the bags, and dragging the heavy leather satchels behind him, he trailed slowly out the door. He found his horse waiting outside the clinic, and he stowed the saddlebags on the back of the pinto. The medicine had managed to subdue the pain in his back to a dull roar, and Joe was able to swing himself stiffly into his saddle. With a last glance around, he headed the horse toward Virginia City and home, leaving his army career behind. He spared a thought to what his father would say when he arrived home in disgrace, but then ruthlessly pushed those thoughts out of his head. He would deal with Ben Cartwright when he got home. Right now it was all he could do to stay in the saddle for the long ride.
~*~*~*~*~
It was dusk, and the three men gathered around the table for their evening meal. Ben spared a glance at the empty chair, and firmly schooled his thoughts to think only of mundane ranch matters. He missed Joe so fiercely that it was a physical pain. He remembered the years that Adam had spent away from the ranch. He had missed his oldest son then too, but this was different. Joe was his youngest, and the spitting image of his long departed mother. It had never occurred to Ben that this child, who was so firmly rooted in the Ponderosa, would ever choose to leave it. The suddenness of Joe’s departure had only added to Ben’s misery. He hadn’t had a chance to absorb the impending loss before it had happened. Again, he wrenched his thoughts away from the missing member of the family, and turned to ask Adam a question about the timber operation.
He intercepted a meaningful glance being exchanged by his two oldest sons, and a grimace crossed Ben’s face. He knew that Adam and Hoss missed their brother fervently as well. Forcing a smile onto his face, Ben started once again to ask his question. Once again he was interrupted, this time by the distinctive sound of hooves approaching the ranch house.
Adam’s eyebrows rose quizzically. “Whom do you suppose that is, at this time of night?”
Hoss was already digging into a full plate of food, and he mumbled, “Why don’ you go find out, older brother. I’m a little busy here.”
Adam ostentatiously unfolded his napkin and laid it in his lap. “I sure miss that little brother of mine. He was always so good at answering the door.”
Ben glared at his sons. “Well, one of you get up and see who’s here,” he began sternly.
Before he had a chance to continue, they were all startled by the sound of the door being pushed open. Pushing back their chairs, the three men moved to see who was invading their home. Three mouths dropped open as a familiar figure entered the house. “Joe!” A chorus of voices exclaimed.
Joe stood quietly, tossing his hat onto a peg on the wall and quickly stripping off the gunbelt at his hips. As he coiled the supple leather in his hands and carefully placed the belt on the wooden chest that stood waiting to receive it, he looked calmly at his father and brothers, who even now were moving toward him. “Hi, Pa.” Joe’s voice was soft, ragged with tiredness and something else.
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Joe? What are you doing home, son?” His face broke into a tentative smile. “Not that we aren’t glad to see you, but you didn’t send word that you had leave. We weren’t expecting you.”
Hoss’ face broke into a big smile. “Yeah, little brother, did ya get kicked outta the army so quickly?” He moved to clap Joe on the back, and was startled when Joe drew back from him with a hiss of apprehension.
“So what if they did!” Joe’s answer was quick, his voice belligerent. “Maybe I just wasn’t cut out for the army after all.” The green eyes were flashing with a glint of anger, and more than a trace of nervousness.
Adam sucked in a deep breath. “Joe, are you saying you’ve been discharged from the service?” he asked in disbelief. “Why? What happened?”
Joe hesitated briefly. Then his head snapped up and his eyes bore into Adam’s dark orbs. “Yes, I have, Adam. Now, are you going to drop the subject? I’m tired. I’m going to go on up to my room, Pa.”
Ben placed a firm hand on his youngest son’s chest. “Now wait a minute, son. You can’t just go off and leave us guessing. Why would the army discharge you so soon? I want to know the whole story, Joseph.”
Ben reached to put his arm around Joe’s shoulder, and was shocked by Joe’s involuntary gasp of pain. “Joe, what’s wrong?” he asked quickly. A closer look at his young son told him that Joe was tired beyond the point of exhaustion. There were lines of fatigue and pain etched onto his finely chiseled face. “You’re hurt son.”
Joe flinched away from his father’s grasp. “Leave me alone!” he cried angrily. He turned, intending to make his way to his room, but the events of the past few days had taken their toll. The room twisted and spun crazily in front of him, and Joe stumbled, putting a hand to his head in an effort to stop the spinning. With a soft moan, he crumpled bonelessly to the ground at his father’s feet.
~*~*~*~*~
Doc Martin made his way down the familiar stairs, his black bag in hand. He glanced up in time to see three men surge to their feet and move toward him, anxiety written plainly on their faces. The doctor smiled reassuringly. “He’s tired, and in quite a bit of pain from the lash marks on his back, but with rest he’ll be fine boys.”
The doctor moved toward Ben and his smiled widened when he saw the cup of coffee held out to him. Sipping from it gratefully, he grimaced at the thought of Joe Cartwright’s back. Whoever had administered the flogging had been a professional and he’d done his job well. Joe would be feeling the effects of the beating for a long time to come.
“Did he say anything to you about the beating, Doc?” Adam’s voice was calm and controlled, but the underlying anger caused the doctor to glance up at him quickly. “Who did it?”
“Joe didn’t say much of anything, to be honest, Adam,” the doctor replied thoughtfully. “I gave him a sedative before I started my examination and he fell asleep pretty quickly. The beating was administered by a professional, so I’d imagine it was done by the army.”
Ben’s sudden indrawn breath sounded loud in the suddenly quiet room. “The army! Why would someone in the army order Joe to be flogged? And why is he home?” Ben’s questions were sharp and his eyes betrayed his bewilderment. “He seemed to be doing so well. His letters home were full of funny stories about the other men in the squad. What could have happened, Paul?”
Paul shook his head slowly. “Joe will have to answer those questions for you, Ben. I don’t have much to tell you, other than that he’ll heal physically, given time. Emotionally, I’m not so sure about. He seems to have something eating at him. Given the state of his back, and his sudden arrival home, I think you better find out pretty quickly what it is.” With that the doctor took his leave, and the three Cartwrights listened until they heard the sound of his buggy pulling away from the house.
Ben turned toward the stairs, only to catch sight of Hoss standing, a furious scowl on his face, his hands clenched in anger. “What’s wrong, Hoss?” he asked gently. “The doctor says that Joe’ll be fine.”
Hoss turned fierce blue eyes upon his father. “Who coulda done somethin’ like that to him, Pa?” he asked angrily. “I’d like to go find ‘em and tear ‘em apart with my bare hands.”
Ben put a strong hand on Hoss’ huge shoulder. “We need to talk to Joe before we leap to any conclusions, son. Don’t go off half-cocked. Wait until Joe wakes up and can shed some light on what happened.”
Hoss nodded slowly. “Yessir,” he replied automatically. “But when Joe wakes up and tells us who did this to him, that fella is gonna have a little visit from me.”
Adam moved to stand at Hoss’ side. “You’re going to have some company on that little trip, brother,” he said quietly, his words taking on a deadly tone that sent a chill down his listeners’ spines.
Ben frowned at his sons. “You boys are going to stay right here until we get to the bottom of this matter. I don’t want either one of you running off on some misguided mission of vengeance.”
Adam and Hoss exchanged a long measured glance. It was clear they weren’t in agreement with their father but they were willing to let things rest for the moment. Together the three men mounted the stairs. All wanted to be reassured that Joe was resting comfortably.
~*~*~*~*~
Ben woke up suddenly. He shook his head to clear the sleep from his thoughts and looked around quickly. He was still in Little Joe’s room, sitting in the rocking chair by the window. He had fallen asleep while watching over his son in the night. He glanced at the bed and his mind blankly registered the fact that it was empty. Joe had disappeared. Ben jumped to his feet and stormed to the head of the stairs. “Joe!” he called loudly. He heard the sounds of Hoss and Adam moving in their rooms and both men stuck their heads out into the hallway.
“What’s wrong, Pa?” Adam moved quickly to stand beside his father, obviously having been interrupted while getting dressed. He was clad only in pants and socks, his shirt still lying on a chair in his bedroom.
“Joe’s not in his bed!” Ben’s voice was frantic and he started down the stairs, Adam following quickly behind him.
Ben stopped abruptly, causing Adam to bump into his back. Joe walked around the corner from the kitchen, a bottle of Ben’s best whiskey in his hand. His weaving gait and bleary eyes, as well as the level of the whiskey in the bottle told his father and brothers that he was drunk.
“Joe!” Ben’s eyes were concerned, but his tone was carefully neutral. “What are you doing out of bed?” He moved to take the bottle from Joe’s hand, and was shocked when his son jerked it back from him.
“Thass mine, don’ you touch it!” Joe said, his speech coming out with an effort. “Iss mine!”
“The doctor wants you to stay in bed for at least two more days, son. Let’s go upstairs.” Ben spoke gently, carefully trying not to upset Joe any more than he already was. “Come on, Joe.” Again Ben tried to take the bottle from his son’s hand. And again, Joe snatched the bottle back from his father.
“I said iss mine!” he ground out angrily. He began a weaving walk toward the stairway, the bottle clutched firmly to his chest. “Iss to help the pain.”
Adam turned concerned eyes to his father. “Let me try to get him to bed, Pa. Why don’t you see if Hop Sing has some strong coffee brewing?”
Ben hesitated a few moments, his face drawn with fatigue from his long night by Joe’s bed. Finally, he nodded. “All right, Adam. See what you can do with him, I’ll go see about some coffee. It looks like we could all use a cup.”
Adam heard his father’s sigh and he turned grimly back to his brother. “Come on, Joe. It’s back to bed with you,” he urged.
Joe resisted Adam’s efforts at first, but then reluctantly allowed his brother to half-carry him up the stairs. Joe’s gait was lopsided, his head hung to his chest and he occasionally giggled uncontrollably. When the pair reached Joe’s room, Adam pushed Joe into a chair and began to remove his brother’s boots. As Joe’s back came into contact with the back of the chair, he hissed in pain. His eyes filled with tears as the lash marks on his back throbbed.
“I’m sorry, Joe.” Adam’s eyes were concerned, his hands gentle, as he attempted to continue his task. “I didn’t mean to hurt your back.”
“S’kay, Ad... Adam,” Joe slurred. “Did’n feel nuthin’ anyway.” His eyes belied his words. It was obvious that Joe was feeling quite a bit of pain.
“You gonna tell me what happened, little brother?” Adam asked quietly, as he finished with the boots and then sat back on his heels to look at his brother’s face. “You can’t keep it from us forever, you know.”
A flash of anger marred Joe’s features, and he glared at the older man. “Got kicked outta the army, that’s what happened, Adam.” He attempted to stand, and fell back into the chair, eliciting another gasp of pain. “They dishonorably discharged me. Said I was stealin’ guns. You happy now, older brother. You always said I wouldn’t amount to much.”
Adam exhaled slowly, his thoughts in turmoil. Dishonorably discharged, stealing guns. Joe would never do a thing like that. At last Joe’s final words penetrated, and Adam looked up into Joe’s pain-filled eyes. “I never said that you wouldn’t amount to anything, Joe, and you know it. All I said was that I didn’t think you were the right type for army life. There’s a difference. You know we can fight these charges, little brother. Let me help you.”
“You never have faith in me, Adam, and now I’ve proven you right.” Joe forced himself to his feet and blundered toward the window, staring outside with sightless eyes. “I wanted to show you all I could do it. Tired of being the little brother alla the time.”
Adam moved in closer, his hand automatically reaching out to grasp his brother’s shoulder. “Joe,” he began. But before he could finish, Joe swung around in a sudden fit of temper.
“Get offa me, Adam. Get outta here!” he said shrilly. “I don’t need you in here starin’ at me with that look in your eyes.”
Joe tried to shake Adam off, but his brother was persistent. With a cry of anger, Joe lashed out with his left fist and caught Adam squarely in the right eye. Adam grunted in pain, but didn’t fight back. Joe crouched a little as if expecting a blow, and when it didn’t come, he dropped his head into his hands and let the tears fall. Staggering over to his bed, he collapsed into it, still not looking at his stunned brother. “Get out, Adam!” was all he could say. He never looked up as Adam silently left the room.
~*~*~*~*~
Several weeks later, two somber men rode into Virginia City. They were on a mission to find their brother. In the weeks since Joe’s return to the Ponderosa they had been sent on this errand many times. As they rode through the streets of the dusty little mining town, Adam and Hoss turned instinctively toward the saloon. Joe seemed hellbent on self-destruction since his return and the place to accomplish this task was the local drinking establishment.
Roy Coffee had been out to the ranch several times to relay tales of saloon brawls and drunk and disorderly conduct. So far he hadn’t arrested Little Joe, but everyone knew that it wouldn’t be long before Roy was forced to take steps to protect his town. It hadn’t helped matters that rumors were flying through the town. Some people said that Joe had been kicked out of the army for attacking the commanding officer and killing him. Others thought it was for stealing an entire arsenal of weapons and attempting to flee with them. No one really knew what had happened but people were more than willing to speculate on it. Joe’s sullen responses and wild behavior were only adding fuel to the rumors that abounded through the town.
As Hoss and Adam pulled up their horses in front of the saloon they heard a loud crash. Suddenly the hanging doors swung wildly on their hinges and a body flew into the street to roll to a stop at their feet. Picking himself up and dusting himself off, the young man charged back into the saloon like a bull after a red flag. Exchanging glances, the Cartwrights followed their brother into the saloon. They watched momentarily as Joe tried to fight with three huge miners. When Hoss saw the largest of the burly men rear back and hit Joe in the face with a flying left hook, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Regardless of what Joe had done, he was still Hoss’ beloved little brother. Hoss waded into the fray, his fists flying, pulling men off of Little Joe with both hands. Adam sighed resignedly and joined his brothers in making short work of the three miners.
As the dust settled in the saloon, Roy Coffee barged in, rifle lying across his arm, ready for action. “What’s goin’ on in here?” he demanded roughly. Catching sight of the Cartwrights, his face changed, a weary expression taking residence on his craggy face. “Again, Little Joe?” he asked quietly.
“Jus’ tryin’ to make these men shut up,” Joe mumbled thickly. It was obvious he’d been drinking for a while. “They were waving that rag in front of my face, and I wanted them to stop.” Joe stared belligerently at the three men looking at him.
“What rag?” Hoss asked with a sigh. “Little brother, we don’t have a clue what yer talkin’ about.” He moved to dust off his brother’s jacket, and was firmly shrugged off by the ungrateful young man. Hoss just shrugged, he was getting used to Joe’s nasty temper since his return from the army.
Joe hurled a crumpled paper at the others, and Adam calmly unfolded the grimy piece of paper. It was the local scandal sheet – a one page gossip style newspaper that was eagerly sought by the town’s residents as a way to pass the time. The headlines boldly asked the question “Why Was Joe Cartwright Sent Home?” The paper went on to elaborate on all the rumors and innuendos that had been flying around the town. Needless to say the reporter hadn’t taken the trouble to ascertain the truth of any of the rumors, merely placed them in black print for all to see. Adam finished reading, with Hoss hanging over his shoulder in an effort to see as well. When the oldest Cartwright looked up he could see Joe had returned to his bottle of whiskey and was taking a long swallow directly from the bottle.
“I think you’ve had enough of that, little brother.” Adam spoke calmly, but his face was troubled. Joe’s actions had been so volatile of late that he was dreading this latest confrontation. “Pa wants you home.”
Joe simply ignored his brother and took another swallow from the bottle. Hoss growled in anger and snatched the bottle from Joe’s unresisting hands. “Adam said you’d had enough, Joe!” Hoss said angrily. “Now come on. We’re going’ home.”
Joe stood, his hands planted on his hips, his face a study in anger. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you, brothers.” Joe practically spat the last words. “I’m a big boy now, and I don’t need a pair of keepers. You go on back and tell Pa I’ll be home when I’m good and ready.”
Adam snorted in disgust. “You’ll have to deliver that message yourself, Joe,” he retorted. “I’m sure I’m not going to be the one to give it to him.” He spun on his heel and stalked angrily through the swinging doors without a backwards glance.
Hoss shook his head in disgust, although he looked as if he wanted to say something. Finally, he just turned and left the saloon. Little Joe watched him go, a strange look passing over his face, and then the mask slipped back into place. Turning to Roy Coffee, he asked quietly. “So am I under arrest, Roy?”
Roy too shook his head. “You’ll pay for the damages to the saloon, Little Joe. But I ain’t gonna take you in this time. But I’m warning you, one more time and I’ll have you in a cell so fast it’ll make your head swim. Now take my advice, Little Joe. Go on home to your Pa, maybe he’ll be able to help you with whatever is eatin’ away at you.”
Joe laughed bitterly. “It’s too late for that, Roy. Much too late.” He turned his back on the grizzled lawman and took his bottle of whiskey to a far table.
As Roy turned to leave the saloon he scratched his head in bewilderment. He wished he knew what was going on with Little Joe Cartwright. Joe had always been one of his favorite people, always laughing, or fighting, or just having a good time. Joe had such a way with people that he tended to be in the middle of a crowd at all times. It was only as he thought about it that Roy realized for the first time that Joe was sitting alone. He had turned away all of his old friends and seemed to be alienating everyone who he met. With a sigh Roy returned to his office to ponder the mystery. The boy needed help, that was obvious. But who would give it to him? Ben Cartwright was at his wit’s end with the events of the last several weeks. The Cartwright family was disintegrating right before the whole town’s eyes, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.
~*~*~*~*~
Joe let himself into the darkened great room of the big Ponderosa ranch house. He slipped his gunbelt off as quietly as he could and struggled to set it down silently. As he moved through the silent room, Joe struggled to keep his steps steady. He couldn’t remember how much whiskey he’d had, but it was a few too many. A muffled curse slipped from his lips as his toe struck the corner of the settee, scattering his thoughts briefly.
“Hello, Joseph. I’m glad to see you decided to come home.” The baritone voice was quiet, but it still filled the room.
Joe cringed and swung around slowly to face his father’s wide desk. “Pa.” Joe tried to keep his voice steady, and winced when he heard the quaver. “I hope you weren’t waiting up for me.”
Ben rose to his full height and moved slowly across the room. The immense anger he felt welling up inside him threatened to overwhelm his good sense, and he made a concerted effort to dampen it slightly. Standing directly in front of his youngest son, he took in the flushed face and the red eyes. “Of course I was waiting up for you, Joseph. I was worried about you.” His voice remained quiet, but his eyes burned with anger. “Adam delivered your message.”
Joe flinched, remembering the harsh words he had spat at his brother. “He said he wasn’t going to give it to you.”
Ben’s face was grim. “I insisted that he tell me what you’d said, because I couldn’t believe that you’d disobey a direct order.” He reached for Joe’s shoulder, but wasn’t surprised when his son jerked away from his touch.
“Why wouldn’t you believe that, Pa? I was kicked out of the army, wasn’t I? Obviously, I’m not very good at following orders. Never have been.” Joe’s tone was bitter, his face a mask of anger. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s a little late for bedtime stories.”
Joe tried to brush by the older man, but was jerked backwards by the fierce grip his father placed on his arm. “That’s enough insolence out of you, young man!” Ben snapped. “Now, I want some explanations. What happened at that army camp? Why were you dishonorably discharged? Why won’t you let us help you fight these charges? You’ve got to talk to me sooner or later, Joe, and I think it should be sooner.”
Joe glared up into his father’s eyes. “No, I don’t have to talk to you, Pa. I’m a grown man and I’ll talk to whom I please.” He jerked his arm free from his father’s restraining grip. “Now if you don’t mind, Pa. I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”
Ben’s eyes reflected his shock, anger and disappointment. Joe took one last look into his father’s eyes, and then stumbled quickly up the stairs. Ben listened until he heard the door slam violently. When the sounds of Joe’s movements stopped, he shook himself violently, trying to break the spell that bound him. He had felt Joe’s anger pierce his soul, and he didn’t know if he could deal with it. Moving slowly, like an old man, Ben stumbled and fell into the seat of a waiting chair. Burying his face in his hands, he prayed. He knew there was not much else he could do for his son at that moment.
~*~*~*~*~
Joe saddled Cochise before the sun rose in the sky. He headed down the trail toward Virginia City, in hopes of avoiding another confrontation with his father and brothers. As he drew near a bend in the trail, a figure on horseback suddenly appeared on the road in front of him. Joe reined in sharply, his eyes suddenly alert. “What do you want?” he called out loudly.
“Hello, Cartwright.” The familiar voice caused Joe’s eyes to widen and a smile to break across his face.
“Thompson!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” Joe rode up to the man and grasped his hand in a quick hello.
“I’ve come to see you, Joe. I’ve been following your adventures since the discharge, and I have a proposition for you.” Thompson’s smile was wide but his eyes were wary. He sat quietly on his horse and scrutinized the younger man’s face.
Joe was bewildered. “Following my adventures? What do you mean by that? And what kind of proposition?” Cochise danced a little as he felt his rider’s sudden nervousness, and Joe reined him in sharply.
“Why don’t you get off that fancy horse of yours and talk over here in the shade with me, Joe?” Thompson dismounted and led his horse over to a shady spot. He dropped the reins to allow the horse a chance to graze. “I’ve been hearing about you wrecking up saloons and drinking and gambling like there’s no tomorrow. I’ve been keeping track of you.”
Joe frowned in confusion, but he followed Thompson to the shade. He too dismounted and allowed Cochise to join the other animal who was now cropping at the grass at the edge of the path. “What’s this all about, Thompson?” he asked again. “How could you be keeping track of me while you were still at the fort?”
“I have my ways, Joe.” Thompson replied affably. “I’ve come to make a business proposition to you. My friends and I are looking for a person on the outside to help us with a real money making scheme, and I’ve persuaded them that you’re just the man for the job.”
Joe was startled. “Me! Why me?” He stood up quickly and began to pace. “And what kind of scheme are you talking about anyway?”
The older man reached up and grabbed Joe’s arm. “Sit back down, Joe, you’re making me dizzy,” he complained good-naturedly as he pulled the boy down next to him. “I’m trying to explain all of this to ya, but you keep interrupting me. The boys and I have a really good scam going, but we’ve lost our outside man. You’re just the man we need. The way you’ve been acting around town lately, no one’s gonna notice if you just ride in and out. You don’t seem to need to be anywhere on any set schedule. Like I said, just the man we need.”
“You still haven’t told me what I’d be doing,” Joe said quietly. “Not that I’m not interested. I don’t like asking my Pa for money, now that I’m home in disgrace and all.”
“We’ve been selling guns to the tribes in the area. A couple of the young braves are very interested in getting their hands on a steady supply of ‘em. We’ve been doing pretty good so far, but, like I said, our outside man disappeared a couple of weeks ago, so we need a replacement. Your job would be to pick up the guns from us and deliver them to the braves. You’d then bring the money back to me.”
“What makes you think you can trust me to do that?” Joe asked bitterly. “For all you know, a man like me’d run off with your cash.”
Thompson laughed heartily. “Oh, I got to know you pretty well back at the camp, kid. I don’t think you’d sell out a partner. ‘Sides, my associates wouldn’t take too kindly to you betraying us. I think you know what that’d mean.” The smile disappeared from the other man’s face. “We wouldn’t take very kindly at all to a double-cross, Joe.”
Joe sat silently for a moment. His life had been destroyed by the discharge from the army. He felt like a stranger at home and an object of scorn and ridicule in town. This offer sounded like the one he’d been waiting for. He looked up at his friend and smiled bitterly. “It sounds like I’m your man, Thompson.”
Thompson’s smile returned and he clapped Joe heartily on the back. “I knew I could count on you, kid. Meet me Thursday night behind the saloon in town. I’ll introduce you to the boys, and we’ll discuss the transfer of the merchandise to the Indians.” He stood quickly and grabbed his horse’s reins. “Be seeing ya, Joe.” Tipping his hat, he rode off quickly, his horse disappearing down the road in a cloud of dust.
Joe sat still for a moment. He knew what he was facing, but he’d come to a point where the offer had been almost inevitable. He was no longer a carefree young man with a sterling reputation. In Virginia City, he was widely regarded as a failure and a disgrace to the name of Cartwright. While no one in his family had ever said anything to that effect, Joe couldn’t help but realize that he had let them all down. With his name and reputation in ruins, offers like these were to be expected. In Virginia City, a man was only as good as his name, and Joe’s name was now synonymous with shame and dishonor. With that thought, Joe mounted Cochise and continued on his solitary ride to town.
~*~*~*~*~
“What do you mean, he’s not in his room?” Ben’s voice was quiet, but the anger was palpable. “After all he had to drink yesterday, I thought he’d sleep till noon if I let him.”
“I don’t know how much he had to drink, Pa. But he’s definitely not in his room. And Cochise is not in his stall.” Adam’s eyes were grave. Hoss stood by his side, clenching and unclenching his meaty fists.
The naked pain in Ben’s eyes made his son’s drop their own away from him. “What do ya want us at do, Pa?” Hoss asked miserably. “I can ride out after him.” His eyes followed his father’s form as the older man paced across the plank flooring that graced the Ponderosa great room.
At Hoss’ words, Ben stopped walking and gazed back at his sons. He could see that they were as torn by Joe’s behavior as he was. Since Joe’s return from the army in disgrace, all three Cartwrights had attempted to stand by him, waiting for their son and brother to let them help him. Joe had steadfastly refused to talk to them, and he seemed hell-bent for self-destruction judging by his actions in Virginia City. He had rebuffed all offers to help clear his name, and had refused to even tell his family why he had been disciplined and sent home. The only details the Cartwrights had obtained about Joe’s discharge came from the townsfolk, who seemed to be abuzz with news about Joe’s actions.
What Joe failed to see was that his reckless behavior was destroying his family as well. Both Adam and Hoss had returned home from trips to Virginia City bearing obvious bruises, received in fights defending their younger brother’s name. Joe had never acknowledged the bruises or thanked them for the help they offered. He seemed determined to push the people he loved the most as far away from him as he could.
Now Ben considered his options. Joe had once more defied his authority and ridden off to town, clearly determined to continue his self-imposed isolation from ranch life. He could send Adam or Hoss after their brother, but knew that Joe wouldn’t return with them. Ben knew that he could go himself, but didn’t feel that was the right option either. Joe was letting the discharge and the flogging eat into his soul, and a public argument with his father didn’t seem like the right answer. Shaking his head against the turmoil of his thoughts, Ben groaned and buried his face in his hands.
Instantly Hoss and Adam were at his side, both reaching to physically reassure their father of their presence and their love. He looked up at them with grateful eyes, and said slowly, “Let’s get on with the day’s chores, boys. Joe will be back in his own good time. I’ll deal with him then.”
“Pa!” Hoss’ voice was unbelieving. “We can’t just let him keep gettin’ away with this