A Matter Of Trust

By Carla

Ben Cartwright stared out into the darkness of his room as the grandfather clock downstairs finished chiming for the twelfth time.

Midnight . . . he thought wearily. He looked at the bottle of sleeping powder that stood on the night table beside the bed. Doc Martin had left it for him earlier in the day. No . . . not this time . . .Maybe tonight I should try and think things through . . .

The silver haired man threw back the bed covers and began slowly pacing back and forth. Has it really been five months since Hoss died, he thought in anguish. He felt raw inside. Raw from the pain that was as strong now as it was on the day his second oldest son had passed away.

Hoss was always so strong . . .Ben thought. But not strong enough to fight back against the pneumonia that had unexpectedly claimed his life on that bleak January day. At least Hoss knew that we were with him at the end . . . Even Adam, Ben's oldest son, had made it in time to say good-bye to the brother he hadn't seen in many years. The grieving father had desperately hoped that Adam would stay on, would return to the life he led before he left to build a successful career as an architect back East. Ben soon saw that, unlike the others, his oldest son's hopes and dreams were no longer rooted in Ponderosa soil. And so, after a month's stay, Adam went back East.

He slipped on his red bathrobe and sighed heavily, realizing that, once again, there would be no sleep for him that night.

As he stepped out into the hallway, Ben Cartwright wrestled with his feelings. It was hard enough to deal with the pain of his loss, but what about the fear? The fear that something might happen to one of his other sons gnawed at him both night and day. Many men envied Ben Cartwright for his material wealth; few realized that the man considered his sons to be the greatest of treasures.

Silently, he paused outside one of the doors. Once opened, he felt a feeling of relief spread through him at the sight of the small thatch of red hair that peeked out from the mountain of comforters on the bed. Face down on the floor was one of the dime novels that his youngest son, Jamie, was so fond of reading.

Ben glanced at the plate of half eaten dinner on the desk and frowned. I shouldn't have lost my temper with the boy . . . he thought, thinking back to the scene at the dinner table just hours earlier.

He turned at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Can't sleep, Pa?" Joe Cartwright looked at his father with concern.

"I was just going to ask you the same thing," Ben replied, closing Jamie's bedroom door.

"I was sitting outside for a while, looking at the night sky." He looked at his father with a questioning look. "What about you?"

"I couldn't sleep. I've been thinking about what happened at dinner. I shouldn't have lost my temper with Jamie like that."

"It's okay, Pa. I talked to Jamie about it before he went to bed. He understands why you would be worried." Tears started to well up in Joe's eyes. "Pa . . . Jamie and I were talking and . . ." Joe's voice was choked with emotion. "Pa, we need to start going on with our lives. You know that's how Hoss would have wanted it . . ."

"I know," Ben whispered. "It's just so hard . . ."

The two men hugged each other tightly, each one drawing strength from the other.

After a few minutes, Ben stepped back and studied his son. Joe looks so tired . . . he thought suddenly. All this time, I've been thinking how hard it is for me, not realizing the pain that Joe must be feeling, losing Hoss, having to assume added responsibilities for the ranch . . . His mind wandered again to the incident at the dinner table. All Jamie wanted to do was help out more, work with Joe and Candy . . . the way Hoss used to. Instead of listening to him, I got angry . . .How can I make them understand that I can't risk something happening to one of them . . .

"It's late, Pa. You should try and get some sleep." Little Joe ran his hands through his curly dark hair.

Ben nodded. "You should too." He held his son again for a moment. "I'll tell Jamie at breakfast that he can start helping you and Candy."

"That'll be great, Pa." Joe smiled at his father. "Good night."

"Good night, Joseph. Sleep well."

A few minutes later, Ben Cartwright settled back against the pillows and studied the thin rays of moonlight that filtered in through the curtains. Joe is right . . . We owe it to Hoss to start getting on with our lives again . . . He had known it all along, but was afraid to admit it. Afraid that somehow he would be betraying the memory of the son he had lost too early.

Ben looked at the pictures on his dresser and smiled. Hoss' piercing blue eyes and wide grin looked back at him in approval. Good night, Hoss. I love you, son.

At peace with himself for the first time in many months, Ben Cartwright slept, knowing that, although he and his family had faced a terrible time of trial, they were ready to face the uncertain future together.

**********

Early the next morning, Griff King pushed a damp lock of brown hair out of his eyes as he glanced around the barn in disgust. Despite the pastoral setting around him, he felt trapped. I've traded one prison for another . . . the handsome young man thought with bitterness. Damn that Ben Cartwright, why couldn't he have just left me alone . . .

Up until a month ago, he was serving time in the Nevada State Prison, not because he had committed a crime, but because his stepfather saw the prison as an opportunity to get rid of the stepson he didn't care about. Then he had met Ben Cartwright, who was a member of the Board governing the conditions at the prison. Griff was impressed by the man who took the time to ask him what conditions at the prison were really like. A group of prisoners had decided to take Cartwright and several of the other board members hostage to show them first hand how terrible things were. After the uprising had been quieted, the Warden had released Griff into Ben Cartwright's custody.

Deep inside, he realized that he should have been grateful for the opportunity to start a new life, especially here, on the Ponderosa, the largest ranch in the Nevada territory. If only someone had bothered to ask me what I wanted . . . Griff thought silently. All my life, people have been making decisions for me . . . He still didn't know what to make of the Ponderosa's patriarch or his two sons. His mother had run a boarding house; the miners and itinerate ranch hands he had met in his mother's parlor hardly qualified as any sort of role models for the young Griff King.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the barn door as it opened. Griff looked up with an air of impatience at the lanky youth who walked in.

"Mornin', Griff."

"Some people might think so, but I don't. What do you want, kid?"

"Pa said to tell you that breakfast is almost ready."

"Oh, he did? Guess the old man must have been wondering where the prisoner was."

Jamie scowled angrily. He'd been trying for weeks to break through the wall of hostility that Griff had thrown up around him. "Pa's never said you were a prisoner - you're the one who keeps bringing it up!"

"Pa?" Griff laughed bitterly. "Listen, kid, who are you trying to fool? Everyone knows that the old man ain't your pa! You and me are the same, kid - both strays taken in by the great Ben Cartwright - well you do what you want, but you tell him from me that I don't want any of his charity!"

Orphaned at a young age, the Cartwrights and the Ponderosa were the only real home that Jamie had ever had. Griff's harsh words brought all the fears and insecurities of his nomadic childhood to the surface.

"He is my pa!" Jamie shouted back, his voice choked with emotion.

"Just because some judge says so don't make it true."

Engrossed in tormenting the boy, Griff didn't notice the figure that stood at the barn door watching.

"That's enough, Griff!" Joe Cartwright's hazel eyes flashed in rage. "I think you owe my brother an apology."

"An apology? For what, for telling him the truth?"

"Jamie, go on back into the house," Joe said in a low voice that barely concealed his fury.

Jamie glanced anxiously at Griff then back to his brother. "But, Joe, I don't think . . ."

"Go on - tell Pa I'll be right there."

"Okay, Joe, whatever you say," Jamie replied hesitantly.

The men regarded each other silently for a moment.

"Look, I don't know what your problem is, but you've had a chip on your shoulder ever since you got here," Joe said, taking a threatening step forward. "You want to settle something, you can settle it with me, right now!"

"I don't have anything to say to you!"

"Oh? Seems to me like you had plenty to say when I walked in."

"Like I said before, I was just telling the kid the truth. Something you Cartwrights don't like to hear, I reckon."

"The truth?" Joe reached out and hauled King up by the collar. "The truth is you figured that hurting Jamie would be a good way to get even with Pa for bringing you here!"

"Ain't none of my business what you think." Griff wrestled free from Joe's strong grasp.

"Well you'd better start making it your business. Stay away from my brother. If I catch you bothering him again, I'll make sure you end up back in that prison!"

"I hear you," Griff replied, licking his lips nervously.

The barn door creaked.

"What's going on, Joe? Griff?" The Ponderosa foreman, "Candy" Canaday looked expectantly at the two men with a curious look on his face.

Griff picked up his hat from the bale of hay it rested on and glared at Candy. "Ask him," he said, pointing to Joe, "I got work to do!"

Candy watched incredulously as Griff strode out of the barn. "Joe?"

Frustrated, Joe took a deep breath as he tried to calm the turmoil inside of him. "When I came in the barn, Griff was giving Jamie a hard time, telling him that Pa thought he was some kind of charity case."

Candy shook his head in concern. He still found it hard to believe the changes in the young man that he had met many years before, before his imprisonment. "I can't understand Griff doin' something like that, not after everything that he's been through"

Joe's anger subsided. He moved to one of the stalls and ran his hand along the back of one of the horses.

"C'mon, Joe, there's something else, something besides Griff. Would it help to talk about it?"

"I don't know . . ." Joe replied. "When I walked in here and saw what was happening, I just felt so . . . helpless. Instead of trying to talk to Griff, I lost my temper. Now I have to somehow convince Jamie that the things Griff said aren't true. Pa's got enough on his mind, working on that investigation that the Cattleman's Association is involved in. I don't want him to find out about this." Joe looked up at Candy wistfully. "I wonder how many times Hoss felt this way? I never realized until now how difficult it must have been for him."

Candy nodded slowly, as he searched in vain for the right words to ease Joe's pain. During the past months, he had watched his friend shoulder an almost unbearable burden to give his father time to deal with his grief. "Look, Joe, I saw Jamie heading towards the wood shed. Why don't you try and square things with him - I'll go back to the house and keep your Pa busy for a few minutes."

"Thanks, Candy."

Joe could easily see that Griff's well aimed words had opened a lot of old wounds in Jamie. Hoss made it look so easy to be the older brother, Joe thought to himself. I don't even know how to start . . .

The boy was scraping the saw across one of the thick logs at a furious pace.

"Jamie?"

The sawing stopped for a moment, then resumed, faster than before.

"C'mon, Jamie, we need to talk about what happened in there."

"I don't feel like talking."

"You have to talk about it." Joe put his hand on Jamie's shoulder. "We can't leave things like this."

Jamie put his hand down to his side and let the saw slip to the ground. "I don't want him here, Joe!" Tears ran down the boy's face as he sat down on one of the larger logs and looked up at Joe. "Why doesn't Pa just send him away - he doesn't like it here!"

For a moment, Joe found himself at a loss for words; Jamie had said out loud the very thing Joe had been thinking for the past several weeks. "Jamie, sometimes a person hurts so bad inside they say things that they know aren't true." He managed a weak smile. "Remember when you didn't think this was such a great place to live? Pa didn't send you away."

Jamie wiped his face with the back of his hand. "He makes it so hard to be nice, Joe. He's never nice, he's always yelling at people or saying something bad . . ."

"I know it's hard, but someday Griff will understand that it's okay to care about people and let them care about you. Like you did."

"Like I thought I did . . ."

"Jamie, Pa wanted to make you a part of the family for a long time, we all did. But he was afraid to say anything about it because he wasn't sure that it was something you wanted too."

Suddenly, the front door opened. "Joe! Jamie!"

Ben Cartwright looked around the corner and started walking towards them. "There you two are. Candy and I have been looking all over for you."

"Sorry, Pa." Joe said. "Jamie and me had some things to take care of before breakfast."

"Anything I should know about?" Ben knew that something had happened. It was very unusual for either one of his sons to be late for breakfast.

"I don't think so, Pa."

Despite the calm expression on Joe's face, one glance at Jamie confirmed Ben' suspicions. Of his two sons, Jamie had a more difficult time hiding his feelings. Ben was proud of the way that Joe had stepped into the role of older brother in the past five months; he decided that if Joe was handling the situation, whatever it was, he would let the matter rest for the moment.

Ben put his arm around Jamie's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "Then we'd better get into the house before all that food Hop Sing prepared gets cold."

**********

Meanwhile, in the Virginia City, Griff King shoved the empty glass at the bartender in the Silver Dollar Saloon and growled. "More whiskey."

The stout bartender looked at the young man and shook his head. "I think you've had enough, son."

He pointed to the whiskey bottle in the bartender's hand. "I said, more!"

The man sitting next to Griff motioned to the bartender. "Come on, Ed, give the man his whiskey. It's on me."

"Okay," he replied as he filled up the glass again.

Griff turned and studied the man next to him with bleary eyes. "Thanks, mister."

The man's weathered features broke into a large grin. "No problem, son. You're Griff King, aren't you?"

"Depends on who's asking," Griff replied, downing the drink.

"I've been looking for you, Mr. King. I have a business proposition I'd like to discuss with you."

"Business?" Griff mumbled. "I ain't got business with anyone. . . "

"Oh, but you do, Mr. King, with me." The man reached over and emptied the last of the whiskey into Griff's glass. "My name is Jared Hawkins. I've got a ranch just outside of Carson City, near Washoe Lake. Perhaps you've heard of me."

Griff peered at the man blankly for a minute. Jared Hawkins . . .Seems to me somethin' was said about this guy at the dinner table last night . . ."Yeah, I heard of you. So what?"

"So, I've been looking for a man like you for quite some time. I understand you know Ben Cartwright."

Griff laughed bitterly. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Mr. King, let me be honest with you. The cattle business is tricky. Sometimes, a man has to do things that others don't approve of to get ahead. Now, Ben Cartwright and me, we don't agree in this matter. In fact, he's even gone so far to make accusations and such at the last Cattlemen's Association meeting. Because of these charges, which I might add aren't true, I find myself in the uncomfortable position of being investigated by the other members of the Association."

"Not much I can do about that."

"Oh, but there is, Mr. King, there is!" Hawkins thumped Griff on the back heartily. "I've been discussing this with some friends of mine. We're in agreement that if one of us could just talk to Mr. Cartwright, we could convince him that it would be in his best interest to tell the Cattlemen's Association it would be better to call off this investigation." He reached into his vest and threw a wad of money on the bar. "My friends and I realize, of course, that you would want to be compensated for your time."

Griff studied the man for a minute before reaching over to touch the money. He unfolded the wad and counted the bills. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred . . .

"Three hundred dollars is a lot of money, Mr. Hawkins. Just what is it you expect me to do?"

"Your job is very simple. At 8:00 tonight, I'll be arriving at the Ponderosa. I want an opportunity to talk to Mr. Cartwright alone."

"Why don't you just go talk to him now?"

"Mr. King, I've tried to talk to him several times, but Mr. Cartwright is proving to be a very difficult man to deal with."

"There's nothing I can do to help you." Griff pushed the wad of money away. "In case you didn't know it, I'm an ex-con. I'm not looking to spend any more time in the State prison."

"You misunderstand me. The only thing I'm asking you to do right now is make sure that I get to talk to Ben Cartwright alone tonight. I can't see that you'd be breaking any laws by doing that." Hawkins smiled and slid the money towards Griff. "Besides, Mr. King, it's no secret in town that you don't care much for life at the Ponderosa. Seems to me that man like you might appreciate a chance to settle up with Cartwright. My associates and I have agreed that if Mr. Cartwright refuses to listen to my suggestions, forcing further services on your part, you would be protected by my friends and myself in addition to receiving further compensation."

Griff looked down again. Men like Hawkins don't just give money away, not without expecting to get something for it . . . he thought to himself. Still three hundred dollars is a lot of money. . . I could go real far on that . . .Might be nice to have a chance to teach that Joe Cartwright some manners too . . .

"Well, Mr. King?" Hawkins pressed, "What do you say? We got a deal?"

Griff looked up at the man. "Okay, Mr. Hawkins, you got yourself a deal."

"Excellent!" Hawkins shook Griff's hand vigorously. "Oh, I suggest that we keep this between ourselves, sort of a gentlemen's agreement? Some people might get the wrong idea about what I'm doing. I'm just as anxious as you are to avoid any undue interest in our business." The man tipped his hat. "Good day, Mr. King."

Instinctively, Griff knew that Hawkins wanted to do more than just talk to Ben Cartwright. Why should I care what Hawkins plans to do - I don’t owe the Cartwrights anything. I'll be out of this town before daylight tomorrow . . . No one will be able to blame anything that happens on me. . Griff stuffed the money in his pocket and walked out of the saloon.

**********

The yard was empty when Griff finally returned to the Ponderosa. He peered up at the sun which blazed down on him from overhead. Must be nearly noon . . . Griff realized that he hadn't had anything to eat since the night before. He dismounted from his horse and slowly led the animal into the barn.

He was surprised to find an angry Candy waiting for him. "Where you been, Griff?"

"In town. I had some errands to take care of." He turned his back towards Candy and began rubbing down his tired horse.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing - I'm brushing my horse."

"You know what I'm talking about. What happened between you and Joe?"

"Why are you bothering to ask me? I'm sure he's already told you how the prisoner isn't behaving!"

"Stop it, Griff!" Candy grabbed the man by the arm and forced him to turn and face him. "If you feel like this place is a prison, it's because you're making it one. You can't blame me, Joe Cartwright or anyone else! Why are you afraid to let anyone get close to you?"

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

"For the first time in your life you have the opportunity to make a new start. Are you trying to throw that away?" Candy relaxed his grip. "You're wrong about the Cartwrights. They're good people, Griff; they'll accept you for who you are, if you let them."

Griff cringed. All his life he had put up barriers around his feelings to protect himself from a world that had too often taken advantage of him. He wanted to believe Candy but his instinct for survival was too strong. He couldn't let his guard down, not to anyone.

"It's too late, Candy." He felt the money in his jacket pocket. In more ways than you know . . . he thought silently.

"No, it's not too late. We all know how you feel. Stop pushing everyone away and give them a chance."

"I'll . . . I'll think about it."

"I want you to think about something else too. These people are my friends, Griff. I don't want to see them get hurt."

"I'm surprised to hear you say that. The Candy I used to know didn't talk like that."

"People change, Griff - I've changed. Being part of a family does that." Candy smiled encouragingly. "You'd better get washed up if you're gonna have lunch before you ride into town with Joe this afternoon."

"What?"

"You're supposed to ride in and help pick up those supplies we ordered, remember?"

He hadn't remembered. "Oh, that's right. The supplies . . ."

"It'll be a good chance for you and Joe to work things out." He paused at the door. "You coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

Griff watched silently as Candy disappeared into the house. Well, Candy, you were right about one thing, He thought to himself, I do got a lot of thinking to do . . . about how I'm gonna arrange tonight's meeting with Jared Hawkins. . .

********

Joe Cartwright glanced at the angry man who sat beside him as the heavily loaded wagon bumped up and down on the windy road as it made its way back to the Ponderosa. He wrestled with the feelings of uneasiness that he felt towards Griff. For as long as he could remember, his father had offered the hospitality of the family's home to anyone that needed it. None of their visitors had ever made Joe or Hoss feel resentful, not even when Jamie had first come to live at the Ponderosa. Their father's love for them was too strong for that to happen. That is until Griff came. Coming so soon after Hoss' death, it made Joe angry to see Griff display such a casual disregard for the home that Ben Cartwright was offering to the young man. Not only was he angry at Griff; he was also angry at himself. Joe knew that Hoss, in his patient, gentle way, would have found a way to break through the sullen attitude that Griff displayed to everyone.

"Look, Griff," Joe began, breaking the tense silence, "we all understand how you feel about being here, but . . ."

"None of you know how I feel!"

Joe took a deep breath as he tried to remain calm. "You know, Candy was a lot like you when he first came to the Ponderosa. In fact, he only said he'd work for us because Pa agreed that he could leave anytime he wanted to."

Griff continued to look straight ahead, as if Joe wasn't even there.

"Candy doesn't talk much about leaving anymore. Griff, Pa's never offered you, or anyone else, a handout - just a chance. It's there for you, if you want it."

Suddenly, the wagon lurched unsteadily as the load it carried shifted unexpectedly.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Joe guided the horses to a stop, then jumped down from the driver's seat.

"What's wrong?"

"Looks like the load wasn't tied tight enough. I'm gonna need your help." Joe replied

Standing to one side, in the dense brush, Griff swore silently under his breath as he watched with impatience while Joe started untying one of the ropes. A delay like this would cost him time, time that he didn't have.

"I think if we restack those sacks it should be okay."

Griff nodded. As he reached forward, a pain shot up through his left leg, like someone was stabbing him with a hot needle. He looked down in time to catch a glimpse of the rattlesnake as it slinked back into the brush. The pain spread through him like fire and Griff collapsed against the wagon.

Joe laid the injured man on the ground, realizing every second that past decreased Griff's chances of survival. Quickly, he untied the red bandana from around the man's neck and tied it just below Griff's knee to stop the spread of the poison. There's a knife in the driver's box, he thought to himself, I'll need that . . .

Despite the convulsions that began wracking his body, Griff feebly tried to push Joe away. "Leave . . . me . . . alone!"

"No," Joe said, "you need help and whether you like it or not, I'm gonna make sure you get it!"

Already in intense pain, Griff hardly felt the knife blade cut through the skin around the snake bite.

Joe looked up in alarm as Griff's body suddenly went limp. Putting his head to the man's chest, he breathed a sigh of relief. He’s still alive . . . Joe looked out into the dusty road ahead. It was almost an hour and half ride to the Ponderosa. Although he was pretty sure that he had gotten most of the venom out, it was certain that Griff couldn't wait until he was back at the Ponderosa for medical attention. They'd have to go back to Virginia City.

********

Later, at Doc Martin's Office, Griff King stirred uncomfortably on the examination table as the voices around him penetrated the fog that had settled around him.

"It's been almost an hour since I administered the antidote . . ." Doc Martin's calm voice said.

"Is he gonna make it?"

"I think so. He's lucky, Joe, very lucky. If you hadn't acted as quickly as you did this man would be dead now."

The talking stopped. Griff’s body tensed as he silently counted the chimes of the church bells as they tolled the hour. One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . six . . . six o'clock. Hawkins is expecting everything to be ready for him at 8:00 . . .

"How soon can he travel, Doc?"

Griff heard the sound of Joe's footsteps as he moved towards the window to look at the fading rays of the sun.

"Probably in the morning." The doctor sighed. "Although it will be difficult to find someone at this late hour to stay with him. Unfortunately, I still have several more calls to make."

"We can take care of him at the Ponderosa, that is, if you think he can stand the ride."

"I suppose that would be best."

"I know Pa would feel more comfortable if Griff were at the house instead of in town."

"Knowing Ben as well as I do, I think you're probably right. He never has been one to leave the doctoring to us medical folks, not where his family is concerned."

His family . . . A sense of guilt washed over Griff. The Doctor's words made the wad of money in his pocket feel as heavy as a weight around his neck. Everything Candy said about the Cartwrights was true, he thought in torment. Griff swallowed hard as he tried to force his aching muscles to move. I have to warn Joe about Jared Hawkins before it's too late . . .

"I think he's coming around, Doc."

"Good." Doc Martin leaned over and looked down at the patient. "You're going to be all right."

The words formed in his mind. Griff opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He thrashed against the table as panic flared up inside of him.

Doc Martin smiled kindly and patted him on the shoulder. "Take it easy, young man, everything is fine. The numbness you're feeling is a temporary effect of the poison. It should be wearing off soon."

That will be too late . . . Griff thought frantically, too late . . .

********

Ben Cartwright looked up from the book in his hands as the Grandfather's clock chimed the half hour. The worried father stared for a minute at the dancing flames in the fireplace. 7:30 - Joe and Griff should have been back three hours ago. I shouldn't have let them go . . . He glanced across from him at Jamie, who was asleep in a chair.

"Jamie, wake up. Why don't you go on up to bed?"

The boy woke with a start. "Huh? Is Joe back?"

"No. Go on up to bed, son. They probably had trouble getting some of the supplies and got a later start than they expected to . . ."

They turned their heads as they heard the sound of a horse ride up to the house.

"I wonder who that can be at this hour, "Ben said.

"It sure don't sound like Joe in the wagon," Jamie commented.

There was a knock at the door.

At the same time, Griff was struggling to a sitting position in back of the wagon as it neared the end of its journey.

"Joe . . ." The voice was raspy and hoarse. Griff coughed as his body protested against the exertions.

"Just lay back and rest," Joe said, "we're almost home."

"No . . . you've got . . . to listen to me . . ." Griff reached up and tried to grab Joe's arm. "Jared . . . Hawkins . . ."

Joe slowed the wagon. "What about Jared Hawkins?"

"He wants . . . your pa to stop the investigation."

How is he going to stop Pa?"

"Coming to the house to . . . talk. He . . . paid . . .me to help." Griff fumbled for a minute, then shoved the wad of money into Joe's hands. "I'm sorry . . . I was . . . wrong about you . . . your family . . ."

Joe looked down at the money in his hands; he realized how difficult it had been for Griff to admit that he had made a mistake.

"We can still make it in time," Joe replied, jumping back into the driver's seat. "Hang on!"

********

"Good evening, Jared," Ben addressed his unexpected visitor. "You're a long way from home."

"Mighty fine place you got here, Cartwright." Hawkins said pleasantly. "I need to speak to you on a matter of some urgency."

"It seems a mite late in the day to be discussing business." Ben hesitated, then opened the door wider and motioned for the man to come in. "All right, Jared, you said you needed to talk to me, well go ahead. Speak your mind." He towards the fireplace. "This is my son, Jamie."

The man nodded as he settled down on the sofa. He looked around the room expectantly. Cartwright was supposed to be alone, Hawkins thought angrily. That con will pay if he's double crossed me . . .

"Jamie, why don't you go on up to your room?"

"No need for that. It might be best that the boy hear what I got to say." Hawkins pulled his gun out of the holster and aimed it at Ben.

"If you came here just to talk," Ben said cautiously, rising up from his chair. "There shouldn't be any need for that gun."

Hawkins waved the gun, motioned the man to sit down. "I came here to suggest that it would be in your best interests, as well as mine, to persuade the other members of the Cattlemen's Association that it wasn't necessary to go on with their investigation."

"The Association has listened to the charges brought against you by the ranchers in Carson City and have decided that it is necessary. There isn't anything that you or I can do to change that."

"I ain't done nothing wrong - business is business, don't matter how it gets done!"

"The ranchers whose property you destroyed and families you threatened disagree with you, Mr. Hawkins."

"You ain't given me a fair chance, Cartwright. You've got a lot of power in the Association; they'll listen to you if you tell them to drop the investigation."

"I'm afraid I can't help you. You'll get a chance to present your case at the hearing next week."

Hawkins turned and studied Jamie thoughtfully for a moment. "Fine lookin' boy you got there, Cartwright. I hear that you buried one of your other sons a few months back." He looked at the older man knowingly. "Be a real shame if that happened again."

"You're wasting your time and mine, Hawkins," Ben stood up, his jaw set in anger.

Meanwhile, Joe and Griff watched the house from the trees.

"How many men did he have?"

"Just Hawkins. I was supposed to be there to help him." Griff looked around the yard. "Candy and the hands are staying out with the herd tonight."

"Yeah. Hop Sing is in town, visiting a cousin. Should be just Hawkins, Pa and Jamie in the house."

"What's the plan?"

"You go in the front," Joe instructed in a low voice. "Hawkins is expecting you. I'll come in from the side. You have to convince Hawkins that you're still working for him. Pa and Jamie have to be in the clear before we can make a move."

Griff closed his eyes and swayed unsteadily for a minute.

Joe watched in concern. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

He opened his eyes and nodded. "Yeah. I can do it."

"Good. Let's go."

Griff paused outside the door, removing the gun from the holster at his side. "Hawkins!" he yelled as he pushed open the door.

Hawkins looked up in surprise, then smiled. "Ah, Mr. King, I've been wondering where you were. You're late."

"I know." Griff tried not to react to the pained look of betrayal that flashed across Ben Cartwright's face. "I had some trouble with Joe," Griff replied moving to Hawkins side.

"That is unfortunate. I'm afraid that you're going to have more trouble to deal with. Mr. Cartwright refuses to see things my way."

"That doesn't surprise me. What now?"

"I think we're gonna have to teach Mr. Cartwright that I mean business." He crossed the room and opened the front door. "Take care of the boy. Make it look like an accident."

"You'll never get away with this, Hawkins!" Ben protested, placing himself between Jamie and Hawkins.

"I think I will. With Mr. King here to testify that the boy had an unfortunate accident cleaning a gun while you and I discussed a business matter. Of course, you still have time to agree to call off the investigation."

"I've got a better idea, Mr. Hawkins," Griff said coldly, as he spied Joe getting into position from the other room. "Just let me take care of both of them, right now."

Hawkins narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You seem to have had a sudden change of heart from when I talked to you earlier."

"You were right earlier about my wanting a chance to settle some things with the old man. I've been doin' a lot of thinking since we talked." Griff pointed at Ben. "I can tell you right now that he's never gonna agree to cooperate with you. I don't mind taking care of that brat, but I think Cartwright should be disposed of too."

"Griff!" Ben looked at the young man in disbelief. "Why are you doing this? You're throwing away your life, Griff - can't you see that? Hawkins is setting you up to take the fall for him!"

"Keep quiet!" Griff replied angrily. "I've had enough of your talking."

An amused Hawkins looked at Ben and laughed. "You know, Mr. King, I like the way you think. I won't have any trouble at all persuading the Cattlemen's Association to see things my way once Mr. Cartwright is no longer there to influence them."

Griff grabbed Jamie tightly by the arm and flung the protesting boy towards the still open door.

"You won't get away with this!" Jamie shouted, glaring at Griff.

Griff pointed the gun at Ben. "Get moving, up to the door with the kid."

Joe watched from his hiding place as Griff poked the gun in his father's back to urge him on. Griff turned his head and gave a slight nod.

"All right, Hawkins, drop the gun." Joe said from behind.

Hawkins eyes looked at Griff in anger. "You betrayed me, Mr. King. How unfortunate. A man with a prison record really can't afford to do that . . ." Hawkins aimed his gun and fired.

"Get down!" Griff shouted as he dropped to the floor.

There was a second explosion as Joe's gun went off. Hawkins stiffened, then the gun fell from his hand as the man crumpled to the floor.

Joe knelt down beside the body. "He's dead." He looked up at his family. "Pa, Jamie, you okay?"

"Yes," Ben replied, dusting himself off. "Just a little shaken up." He looked around, then saw Griff's still body on the floor.

"We had some trouble on the way back with the wagon," Joe explained as Ben examined Griff for injuries. "Griff was bitten by a rattlesnake - that's why we're so late getting back."

"We need Doc Martin out here. And the Sheriff," Ben said glancing again at Hawkins body.

"I'm on my way," Joe replied.

"Jamie, help me get Griff upstairs."

Joe dropped the crumpled wad of money on the floor next to Hawkins body as he went out the door.

********

Hours later, Ben gently tapped on the bedroom door. "You awake?"

Griff nodded as he shifted uncomfortably in the bed. "Hawkins?"

"Hawkins is dead. Joe is downstairs with the Sheriff, finishing up." Ben sat on the edge of the bed. "I want to thank you."

"I don't deserve any thanks," Griff replied. "I knew Hawkins had something planned. I should have come to you right away."

"You made a mistake, Griff. I've made more than my share in my lifetime." Ben studied the younger man for few minutes before continuing. "Joe told me what happened this morning between the two of you."

"I'm . . .I'm sorry about that, about a lot of things." Griff replied in a whisper. "I've pretty much made a mess of everything since I got here. I'll leave as soon as I'm able."

"Is that what you want to do? If you really feel that you can't make a life here on the Ponderosa, I'll talk to Warden Stone next week about changing our agreement. I have friends in San Francisco; perhaps you'd be happier making a start there."

Griff looked up in surprise. "You want me to stay, after everything that has happened?"

"Griff, just because a man makes a mistake, doesn't mean he should be sent away. I know the past month has been difficult for you; it has been for all of us. But that's what being part of a family is. There will always be some friction, some give and take required on all our parts. That doesn't mean that the family has been broken." Ben rose to his feet. "I think it's time for us all to get some rest. You think about what you want to do. We can talk about it more when you're feeling better."

"Mr. Cartwright?" A spasm of coughing silenced him for a minute. "I want to stay . . ." Griff's eyes slowly closed at the opiate the doctor administered began taking effect.

Ben gently pulled the bed covers up around the sleeping man and gave a satisfied nod. Welcome home, Griff . . . Welcome home . . .

*****The End*****

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