The morning sun shone brightly as the wagon, followed by three riders, rolled into Virginia City. Hoss Cartwright was driving the empty wagon, and his father and two brothers followed on horseback.

"It feels like a year since I've been to Virginia City," remarked Joe Cartwright to his brother Adam.

Well, it's been a while," admitted Adam. "Let's see, three weeks for the round-up, two weeks driving the cattle to the railhead, and another week to get back…it's been almost two months."

“Doesn't look like it's changed much," said Joe, looking around.

"What were you expecting? Dancing girls in the street?" Adam asked wryly.

"Now that's not a bad idea.” replied Joe with a grin.

"Remember what I told you, " said Ben sternly over his shoulder to his sons.  "Work first, and then, if we have time, you can have a beer. We're low on just about everything at the ranch so we have a lot of supplies to load."

"Yeah, and you fellows better not leave me to do all the loading," Hoss added as he pulled the wagon to a halt in front of the general store.

"Hoss, we wouldn't do that," claimed Joe in an innocent voice.

 "You won't, 'cause I'm going to make sure you won't, " Hoss said.

"Adam, I don't think older brother trusts us," Joe complained in an injured voice.

 "He's gotten down right suspicious," Adam agreed as he dismounted.

"Wonder where I got that idea?" said Hoss. "Just cause you two had me chasing strays and riding drag on the herd most of the last two months."

"Hoss, it's just that you're so much better than us at that," Joe stated with a grin as he sat on his horse.

Hoss climbed down from the wagon and walked over to his brother's horse. He reached up and grabbed Joe by the shoulders, pulling him off his horse.

"C'mon, little brother, you can show me how much better you are at loading supplies," Hoss said.

“Doggone it, Hoss, now you got me all dusty," Joe shouted angrily as he laid sprawled in the dirt.

Hoss hauled Joe to his feet and put his massive arms around Joe's shoulders.  "Mr. Perkins don't care how dusty you are," Hoss said as he guided his brother not too gently toward the general store. Adam and Ben laughed as they followed Hoss and Joe into the store.

"Good morning, John," Ben greeted the store owner as the Cartwrights walked into the store. He pulled a sheet of paper from his shirt pocket. "I have a long list of supplies we need."

“Morning, Ben," Perkins answered in a subdued voice. "I'll be happy to fill your list."

 Ben handed the list to the owner and started looking at items in the store.

Adam, Hoss and Joe followed suit. "John, the price on these shirts must be wrong!" exclaimed Ben as he looked at some clothes. "They're at least a dollar more than the last time I looked at them."

"Yeah, and look at the price on these boots," added Adam, holding up a pair of boots. "They've gone up, too."

"The price of everything has gone up," Perkins explained nervously.

"But why?" asked Ben. "I know you, John. You don't gouge people. You charge an honest price. What's cause this sudden increase?"

Before Perkins could answer, two rough looking men walked into the store and started looking around. Perkins watched them for a minute, then turned back to

Ben.  "I've had some new expenses," the store owner mumbled. "I've had to pass on the cost to my customers."

"Expenses? What expenses?" asked Ben curiously.

Licking his lips nervously, Perkins looked at the two men lounging at the back of the store. "Just expenses," replied Perkins quickly. "I'll start filling your order." The man disappeared quickly into the back of the store.

Ben frowned. He had known John Perkins a long time and never knew him to cheat his customers. He also knew him to be a friendly merchant, ready to gossip for a while whenever Ben visited his store. Perkins' behavior and his raising prices seemed out of character.

In the back of the store, Joe was looking at some knives. As he put them down and started to walk to the other side of the building, he accidentally stepped on the foot of one of the cowboys who had followed the Cartwrights in.

"Sorry," Joe said as he started to walk away.

"Watch it, sonny," snapped the cowboy in an angry voice.

Abruptly, Joe stopped. "I said I was sorry," he said, his voice cold as ice.

“You're one of those Cartwrights, ain't you?" asked the other cowboy. "One of those high and might Cartwrights who think they own all of Nevada."

"Yeah, I'm Joe Cartwright," Joe replied, bristling at the man's tone. "What of it?"

Quickly, Ben walked to the back of the store and grabbed Joe by the arm. He knew his son's temper and didn't want him to cause any trouble. "Joe," Ben said, "we have some other errands to run while Mr. Perkins starts working on our list. C'mon, let's get to them."

Ignoring his father, Joe stared at the men in front of him. His face was hard and his fists were balled.

"Joe," Ben repeated, pulling at his son's arm. "Let's go." Ben looked around and saw Adam and Hoss were standing still, ready to help Joe. "Adam, Hoss, let's get to work," Ben added loudly. He literally pulled Joe away from the men and pushed him out the door. Adam and Hoss followed slowly, never taking their eyes off the two cowboys.

"Pa, why did you drag me out of there?" Joe demanded angrily as Ben pushed him on down the street.

"I just got you out of there before you started something," Ben said sternly. "I don't want my sons brawling around Virginia City."

"I wasn't going to…" Joe started to say.

"Yes, you were," Ben interrupted. "In one more minute, fists would have been flying and I would have had a bill at Perkins store that would take you a year to work off."

 Adam and Hoss came up to Ben and Joe. "What's wrong with Perkins, do you think?" asked Adam. "He sure didn't seem like himself. And those prices! It's a wonder he's selling anything."

Before Ben could answer, he heard a voice calling his name. Ben looked around and saw Roy Coffee walking toward him. "Ben! I haven't seen you in a month of Sundays," the sheriff said with a grin as he reached the Cartwrights. "Boys, good to see you," added Coffee, acknowledging the rest of the Cartwrights.

"Hello, Roy," said Ben. "We've been busy out at the ranch. This is the first chance we've had to get to town in almost two months." He inclined his head toward Perkins' store behind him. "What's going on with John Perkins?" Ben asked. "He was acting kind of strange."

Roy shook his head. "Same thing that's been going on with most of the merchants in town," replied Coffee grimly. "I think he's paying protection money, but I can't prove it."

"Protection money?" said Hoss with a frown. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, about six weeks ago, a man named Walter Brady showed up in town with about six gunmen," explained Coffee. "The mine owners hired him to help guard the mines. They've been having some trouble with men sneaking into the mines at night and stealing equipment. I can't be everywhere, so I thought it was a good idea. It turned out to be a bad idea…a real bad idea."

"Why's that?" asked Adam.

“Brady's men stopped the stealing all right, but then, they moved into town,” answered the sheriff. “Near as I can tell, they're forcing merchants to pay them each week to 'protect' their businesses. If someone doesn't pay, something bad happens."

“Roy, you're the sheriff," said Joe. "Why don't you put a stop to it?"

"Believe me, Joe, I've tried," Coffee replied in an exasperated voice. "But I can't arrest anyone without evidence. And no one will testify against Brady and his men."

"No one?" said Ben in surprise.

"Charlie Burns over at the livery stable complained about Brady," answered Coffee. "The next night, there was a fire in his stable. Burned about half the building before it got put out. After that, Charlie didn't have anything to say."

Ben shook his head. "I can't believe it, Roy," he said. "I've heard about this in other towns, but I never thought I'd see this in Virginia City."

"And that's not the worst of it," continued Coffee. "Now I hear they're moving onto some of the smaller ranches. If the ranchers don't pay up, their fences get torn down or their cattle get stampeded."

"Roy, you've got to do something," Adam insisted. "If this goes on, there won't be a Virginia City left."

"Believe me, Adam, I'm open to any ideas," Coffee said with a tinge of despair in his voice. "If I could get someone to testify, I'd arrest Brady in a minute. But everyone is too scared."

"Hello, Ben," a woman's voice interrupted. Ben turned around and smiled as he saw a woman coming up behind him. Her dark hair was sprinkled with gray, and her face was lined with age.  She wore a gingham dress, neat but not new. She had a trim figure, and moved with an easy grace that belied her age.

"Hello, Maggie," Ben answered in genuine warmth. "It's good to see you."

Maggie Corcoran smiled back at Ben, then turned to the other Cartwrights. "Hello, Adam, Hoss," she said. Maggie seemed to have a special smile for Joe. "Hello, Joe," she added.

Joe reached over and pecked her on the cheek. "Hi, Maggie," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "How's my favorite girl?"

 "Still old enough to tan your britches, you impertinent boy," Maggie replied with a snort. But the smile on her face showed her words were an empty threat.

"Better watch yourself, Joe," Hoss said with a grin.

"Maggie, when are you going to give in and marry me?" Joe continued with a smile.

"About the same time that hell freezes over," Maggie answered. Roy Coffee and the Cartwrights laughed heartily at her answer.

“You fellows looked awful serious," Maggie commented when the laughter subsided. "What's going on?"

"Roy here has been telling us about the trouble in town," answered Adam.

 Maggie shook her head.  "It's getting bad," she said. "I don't understand it. You think someone in this town would have enough guts to stand up to Brady. When my husband was alive and running his mine, he would have thrown Brady and his bullyboys out of Virginia City on their ears."

"Has Brady been giving you any trouble?" Joe asked in alarm.

"No, he hasn't bothered me," answered Maggie. "Got no reason to. I don't have a business or a ranch. Besides, he knows I wouldn't stand for his men threatening me. I'd take a shotgun to 'em."

 "I bet you would," Ben said with a grin.

Roy Coffee sighed. "Well, Ben, I've got to get going," the sheriff declared. "If you get any ideas about what to do about Brady, you be sure and let me know." With a wave, the sheriff walked off.

"We had better get about our business, too," said Ben. "I've got to go over to the bank. Adam, Hoss, you go to the feed store and get that grain. Joe, go over to the hardware store and pick up a keg of nails. And, listen, boys. I don't want you causing any trouble."

"There won't be any trouble," Adam promised.

"That goes for you, too, Joseph," Ben said firmly.

"Pa, I didn't start that trouble in Perkins' store," Joe protested.

“I know, but let's not cause any more problems for Roy," Ben said. "He's got his hands full right now. Let's just get our business done and get out of town. We can talk about this situation later and try to figure out the best way to help Roy." Adam, Hoss and Joe nodded.

As they started to walk away, Adam and Hoss said goodbye to Maggie. Joe tipped his hat and grinned. "You let me know when to get the preacher, Maggie," he said as he strolled away. Maggie laughed as she waved him on.

"Maggie, where are you heading?" asked Ben. "Can I walk you some place?"

"Just going to Perkins' store," Maggie replied. She suddenly got a serious look on her face. "Ben, this Brady fellow, he's trouble," she said. "You'd better watch your step around him".

"I will, Maggie," Ben promised.

Joe walked into the hardware store and was surprised to see the shelves almost empty. Normally, the store was crammed with ropes, fencing and other miscellaneous items.  But only a few ropes laid on the middle shelf, and two ax handles stood in a barrel near the counter. The rest of the store was practically empty.

"Joe Cartwright, how can I help you?" a voice called from behind the counter.

Joe looked up to see a middle age man smiling at him. "Hello, Mr. Timmons," said Joe, still looking around. "Where's all your stock?"

Timmons smile faded. "Things have been kind of rough lately," he admitted. "I haven't been able to afford to buy as many items from the wholesaler as I used to."

Joe nodded. "We heard about this Brady character," he said. "Looks like he's been hitting your place, too."

Timmons looked down at the counter. "I didn't say anything about Brady," Timmons mumbled in a low voice.

"You don't have to," answered Joe. "All you have to do is look around your store to see what's been happening. Why didn't you just raise your prices, like Perkins did?"

"I tried," admitted Timmons. "But people wouldn't pay the prices I had to ask. They just went over to Carson City or someplace else to get what they need. Hardware isn't something people usually need right away. They can wait a while until they can buy it cheaper some place else."

Joe leaned over the counter. "Mr. Timmons, why don't you do something about Brady and his men," he urged. "Roy Coffee says he could arrest him if someone would testify against Brady. If you testified, you could get him off your back."

"Oh, no, not me," said Timmons. "I don't want my store burned…or worse."

Joe looked around the empty store. "Looks to me like you're going to lose your business anyway," he remarked.

"You're right about that," admitted Timmons sadly.

"You don't have to," Joe said. "All you have to do is sign a complaint against Brady and stand up in court to testify. Brady and his men will go to jail."

"I'd be dead before I could testify," protested Timmons.

"Roy Coffee would protect you," Joe said urgently. "You could even come out and stay at the ranch with us.  We'd protect you."

"I don't know," Timmons replied in a hesitant voice.

"Mr. Timmons, it's the only way you are going to save your store," Joe stated. "You can either stand up to Brady or go bankrupt."

Timmons nodded. "Let me think about it," he said. The tone of his voice changed. "Well, in the meantime, what can I do for you?"

"I need a keg of nails," answered Joe. "Do you have any?"

“In the back," Timmons said. "I don't have much left, but I do have nails."

 "I'll get them," offered Joe, walking into a back room.

As Joe walked into the store room, the door opened behind him. One of the cowboys who had been in Perkins' store strolled in. "I'm here for your weekly payment," stated the cowboy.

"I don't have the money," Timmons told the man in a desperate voice.

 "Oh, I think you do," the cowboy said easily.

 "Listen, Marsh, I'm almost broke. Look around you. Does it look like I'm doing a booming business?" Timmons argued.

"I don't care where you get the money," Marsh replied. "All I know is you owe Mr. Brady for his protection. If you don't pay, well, we won't be able to protect you from all those bad things that can happen. You know, things like a fire. Or maybe, some night you get jumped as you're walking home. Virginia City can be a very dangerous place."

Timmons face turned red. "No, I'm not paying you any more," he said angrily. "You tell Brady that. And if anything happens, I'm going to Roy Coffee and file a complaint."

Marsh pulled his gun from his holster and pointed it at Timmons. "I think you had better re-consider that idea," Marsh threatened in a low voice.

Timmons swallowed hard. "Marsh, you wouldn't," he said in a shaky voice.

"Oh, yes, I would," countered Marsh.

Unaware of the confrontation that was occurring in the store, Joe came out of the storeroom with the keg of nails in his hands. As he walked back into the main room of the shop, he stopped. He saw Marsh with his gun pointed at Timmons. Timmons pushed Marsh away from him. Marsh took a step back and fired his gun, hitting Timmons in the middle of the chest. Joe dropped the keg and pulled his own gun, firing in a instant and hitting Marsh in the shoulder. Marsh spun around and dropped to the floor. Joe rushed over to Marsh and kicked the gun away from his hand. Then he rushed behind the counter where Timmons had fallen.

The noise of the gunshots brought a crowd of people rushing to the store. Three or four stood in the doorway. Roy Coffee pushed his way through the crowd and entered the store. The sheriff looked at the man laying on the floor, groaning in pain as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. Coffee also saw Joe Cartwright kneeling near the counter. Joe was staring at Timmons, who was laying lifeless on the floor.

"Joe, what happened here?" asked Coffee.

For a moment, Joe continued to stare at Timmons body. "That fellow shot Timmons," Joe answered in a soft voice. "I winged him, but it was too late. Timmons is dead."

Just then, Ben Cartwright pushed through the crowd and entered the store. "Joe!" Ben cried. "Are you all right?"

Looking up at his father, Joe nodded. "I'm fine," he said in a flat voice. "But Mr. Timmons is dead. That man shot him."

Ben looked at Marsh sprawled on the floor. "Who is he, Roy?" Ben asked. "Why would he shoot Timmons?"

"He's one of Brady's men," answered Coffee in a grim voice. Roy turned to the people still standing at the door. "Somebody get the doc over to the jail," said Coffee. The sheriff walked over and pulled Marsh to his feet. "Ben, help me get him over to the jail, would you?" Ben nodded and grabbed Marsh by the collar. Coffee then turned to Joe. "Joe, I need you to come with us, " the sheriff added. "I want you to write down a statement about what happened."

Giving a brief nod, Joe stood. He turned and took another look at Timmons' body on the floor. Joe squared his shoulders and his face hardened. "I'll write down what happened," Joe stated  grimly. "I want to be sure there's no mistake." 

Two hours later, the Cartwrights were still sitting in Roy Coffee's office. Adam and Hoss had rushed over to the office as soon as they heard what had happened. As the doctor patched up Marsh, Joe wrote out a statement about what he had seen. Coffee had asked the Cartwrights to stay around the office until he could talk with them.

Ben sat in a chair next to Joe as Adam and Hoss stood against the wall. Ben was concerned about the troubled look on Joe's face. "Joe, you had to shoot Marsh," Ben said. "He might have killed you if you hadn't."

"I know that," replied Joe. "That's not what's bothering me."

"What is bothering you?" asked Ben.

Joe hesitated. "I feel responsible for Mr. Timmons' death," he admitted. "If I hadn't told him to stand up to Brady and his men…." Joe shook his head. "It's my fault that Timmons is dead."

"Joe, you can't say that," Adam argued. "You don't know what Timmons said to Marsh before Marsh pulled his gun. Maybe Timmons said something that made Marsh angry."

"I know how I feel, Adam," insisted Joe. "If I hadn't opened my big mouth, Timmons would still be alive."

Roy Coffee came out of the cell block, and locked the door behind him. He walked over to the desk and sat down. "Joe, are you sure you wrote down everything you saw and heard?" he asked.

Joe nodded. "Everything. Why?"

"Well, Marsh refuses to talk. Won't say what happened or why he shot Timmons," answered Coffee. "If he won't talk, I can't arrest Brady."

"Why not?" asked Hoss. "You said he worked for Brady. Why can't you arrest Brady for putting Marsh up to shooting Mr. Timmons."

"Because I have no evidence that Brady did that," Coffee replied. "Joe here only said that Timmons pushed Marsh and Marsh shot him. Joe didn't hear Marsh threaten him or mention Brady's name. I can have Marsh tried for murder, but I can't do anything about Brady. I told Marsh if he would admit Brady put him up to this, I'd make sure he went to prison instead of hanging. But he said he won't say anything until he talks to Brady." Coffee shook his head. "Joe, I'm afraid Brady is going to try and keep you from testifying," said the sheriff in a grim tone. "That's the only way he can keep from going to prison. Because if you do testify, Marsh will talk."

Just then, the door of the jail opened, and a heavy-set man in his early 40's walked in. He was dressed in a suit and walked with the air of a confident man. "Hello, sheriff," the man said pleasantly. "I understand you have one of my men in jail."

"Hello, Brady," Roy Coffee replied in an even tone. "Yes, Marsh is here."

"Can I see him?" asked Walter Brady.

Coffee hesitated. "I guess so," he finally said. "You're not wearing a gun, so I guess it's all right." Then sheriff stood and walked to the cell block door. He unlocked the door, and led Brady to Marsh's cell.

Marsh was laying on a bed in the cell, his right arm heavily bandaged. He sat up when he saw Brady near the cell. Brady turned to Coffee. "I'd like to talk with him privately," he said.

Coffee shrugged. "You have five minutes," he stated as he walked away.

As soon as Brady heard the cell block door close, he leaned over to the bars of the cell. "What were you doing?" Brady asked in an angry voice. "Why did you shoot Timmons?"

"He wouldn't pay up," explained Marsh. "I pulled my gun to make sure he paid."

"You fool!" hissed Brady. "Timmons is dead. He's never going to pay now."

Marsh shrugged. "It was an accident. Timmons shoved me and I shot him before I realized what I was doing. Besides, what are you so upset about. The rest of your so-called 'clients' should be more than ready to pay up when they hear about Timmons."

Brady studied the man in the cell. "You're awfully calm for a man who is facing the gallows," Brady remarked.

"That's because I'm not going to the gallows," Marsh replied.  "The sheriff offered me a deal. If I testify that you're the one who told me to collect the money from Timmons, he'll arrange it so that I go to prison instead of hanging."

"That doesn't sound like much of a deal," said Brady. "You'll get twenty years."

"Beats hanging," Marsh answered with a shrug.

"Now, wait a minute," said Brady hastily. "We can work something out here."

"I haven't told the sheriff anything," Marsh told his boss. “And I won't, at least, not until that trial starts. You get me out of here by then, I'll just disappear. But if I go to trial, I'll tell the sheriff everything."

"How am I suppose to get you out of here?" asked Brady. "This place is built like a fort. I could never break you out."

Marsh grinned. "Mr. Brady, you just don't think right," answered Marsh. "The only reason I'm in here is that Cartwright kid saw me shoot Timmons. If Cartwright  don't testify, then I'm a free man."

“It could take a little time," Brady said. "Those Cartwrights don't scare easy."

"No, but they bleed easy," countered Marsh.

Brady looked alarmed. "Cartwright is a powerful man," he said. "If I kill one of Ben Cartwright's sons, he'll have every lawman in the territory after me."

With an air of indifference, Marsh laid back down on the bed. "It's up to you, Mr. Brady," he said. "I don't care what you do. All I know is if I go to trial, you're going to prison. Maybe we can share a cell."

"There's other ways of handling you," threatened Brady in a low voice.

"Don't try it," Marsh replied, sitting up quickly. He winced at the pain the sharp motion caused. "Billy and Fred, they're friends of mine. Anything happens to me, they'll come after you."

Brady swallowed hard. Billy and Fred were two of the men who worked for him. He knew Marsh's threat was no idle boast. "All right, all right," Brady agreed reluctantly. "I'll handle things. You just keep your mouth shut."

Once more, Marsh laid back on the bed. "Fine with me," he said with a grin. "I ain't going anywhere. I got a soft bed and fine food until my shoulder heals. And until that trial begins."

Turning on his heel abruptly, Brady walked away from the cell. He left the cellblock and walked into the sheriff's office. Roy Coffee and the Cartwrights looked at him curiously. Brady straightened his jacket. "It appears this is all a misunderstanding," Brady said. "Marsh tells me that Timmons threatened him, and he shot in self defense."

"That's a lie," declared Joe in an angry voice. "Mr. Timmons wasn't wearing a gun. All Timmons did was shove him. Marsh shot him down in cold blood."

"Now, son, you don't know that," said Brady.

"I was there; I saw it," Joe stated.

Brady looked at Joe. "Maybe that's only what you thought you saw. Maybe after awhile, you'll change you mind," he said pointedly.

Quickly, Ben got to his feet. "Don't threaten my son," he said in a grim voice.

"Threaten? I didn't threaten anyone," Brady replied innocently. "All I said was maybe your boy would change his mind." Brady turned to Sheriff Coffee. "When is Marsh's trial?"

"I figure it will take about three weeks for the circuit judge to get here," answered Coffee.

"Three weeks," mused Brady. "That's a long time." He gave Joe a hard look. "A lot can happen in three weeks.”

Almost as one, Adam and Hoss moved closer to Brady. "Nothing is going to happen,"  Adam declared.

"You can count on that," added Hoss.

Brady just smiled. "We'll see," he remarked casually. With a nod to the sheriff, he walked out of  the office.

A look of concern crossed Ben’s face as he put his hand on Joe's shoulder. "Don't worry, Joe," he said in a comforting voice. Joe just nodded.

"Joe, I think it would be best if you stayed out of town until the trial starts," suggested Roy Coffee. "You should be safe at the Ponderosa."

"I can take care of myself," Joe replied confidently. "If Brady or his men come after me, I'll take care of them."

"Joe," said Ben, "I think Roy's right. There's no sense asking for trouble. Besides, we've got plenty to do at the ranch. You just stay out of Virginia City until the trial starts."

"Besides, little brother, think of all the money you'll save," offered Hoss with a grin.

"That's right," added Adam, trying to lighten the mood also. "If you really get an urge to lose all your money playing poker, I'll be happy to oblige you."

Joe grinned ruefully. "All right," he agreed. "I'll stay at the ranch. But, I think it's going to be a long three weeks."

Ben Cartwright was laying on his bed in a dressing gown, reading. Although it was late, he didn't feel much like sleeping. The events of the day had him to agitated to relax.

When they left the sheriff's office, the Cartwrights had quickly loaded their supplies and rode out of town. As they went down the Virginia City road, each of them had scanned the rocks and brush on the side of the road nervously. Even though none of them wanted to admit it, all four were worried that some of Brady's men might be waiting in ambush for them. All of them were relieved when they reached the ranch without incident.

Nevertheless, Ben was convinced that Brady would do something to prevent Joe from testifying against his man. He wished he knew what Brady had planned, and how best to protect his son. He also knew Joe would chafe at being guarded, but that's what he planned to do. No matter how old his sons got, Ben still thought of them as his little boys.

Ben frowned as he heard a noise from downstairs. At this hour of the night, the house should be quiet.  He grabbed the lamp from the table next to his bed, and went to see what had caused the noise. Ben stopped at the landing on the stairs. He could see Joe, still dressed, sitting on the low table near the fireplace. Joe was staring into the fire, an intense look on his face.

"Joe? Are you all right?" asked Ben quietly from the stairs.

With a surprised look on his face, Joe turned toward the stairs. "Sorry, Pa," he replied in an equally quiet voice. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Ben descended the stairs and put the lamp on a table. He walked over to Joe. "You didn't wake me," he said. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I just couldn't sleep," answered Joe.

"Worried about Brady?" asked Ben.

"No," Joe replied with a shake of head. "I can take care of any trouble Brady might cause. I was thinking about Mr. Timmons."

"You can't blame yourself for what  happened to Timmons, Joe," said Ben.

"Pa, it wouldn't have happened if I had kept my mouth shut," Joe replied. "I'm the one who told him to stand up to Brady. I'm the one who got him killed."

"Joe, it's not your fault," said Ben. "Timmons made his own choice."

"I don't know, Pa, if I hadn't encouraged him…" Joe's voice trailed off.

As he sat down next to Joe, Ben put his arm around his son’s shoulders. "Joe, listen to me," he said.  "Timmons decided not to knuckle under to Brady any more, for whatever reason. Maybe he decided he had enough, maybe he just didn't have the money. We really don't know. But he decided to stand up to Brady's man. Unfortunately, it cost him his life. The best thing you can do now is to pick up where Timmons left off. You must continue his fight."

"Sort of pick up the fallen flag on the battle field?" suggested Joe with a wry smile.

"Something like that," Ben acknowledged. "Don't kid yourself that this is going to be easy. I know men like Brady. They'll stop at nothing to get what they want.

He's going to do anything he can think of to convince you not to testify."

"I'll testify, Pa," replied Joe firmly. "You don't have to worry about that."

"I said Brady would do anything," Ben said. "He might even try to have you killed. Are you willing to risk that?"

Joe thought for a minute. "Timmons was willing to risk his life to stand up to Brady. I guess I can do the same," he answered.

"Then you have nothing to feel guilty about," said Ben. "Timmons was willing to risk his life, and so are you. You didn't ask him to do anything you aren't willing to do."

Slowly, Joe nodded his head in understanding. "You're right, Pa. “I guess I didn't think about it that way. Thanks."

Ben slapped Joe lightly on the back. "Come on upstairs," he said. "Let's get some sleep."

Joe and Hoss were checking fence in the north pasture the next day. Normally, checking fence was a one-man job, and it was Joe's turn to do the work. But Ben insisted that Hoss accompany Joe. Given Brady's threats, he was not about to let Joe ride around the ranch by himself. So far the day had been uneventful. Joe and Hoss had ridden several miles, checking the fence, and stopped twice to repair broken sections. As they neared a section that shielded a steep drop into a gully, Hoss pulled his horse to a stop.

"Look at that, Joe," Hoss said in disgust. "Another fence down. At this rate, we're never going to get home in time for dinner."

"Tell you what, Hoss," Joe replied. "We'll fix this fence and then head for home. The rest can wait. I know you don't want to miss dinner."

Hoss' face brightened. "Good idea," he agreed.. "Hop Sing is making fried chicken for dinner. I hate cold chicken."

"You'd eat it, though," said Joe with a smile as he dismounted near the fallen fence.

"I would," Hoss admitted. "But just so as not to hurt Hop Sing's feelings."

Still smiling, Joe shook his head as he walked to the fallen timber. He knew Hoss would eat Hop Sing's chicken cold, hot, or anywhere in between. Joe bent to pick up a fallen piece of timber. Just as he bent, a bullet whizzed over his head and struck  the fence post behind him. Joe dove into the brush behind him, pulling his gun from his holster as he fell. Hoss landed next to him about a second later, his gun also at the ready. Both men looked around.

"See where it came from?" asked Hoss, his eyes searching the landscape.

"No," answered Joe.

Another shot struck the ground in front of the brush. Joe and Hoss both  ducked, then looked up.

"I think it came from behind the tree up there on the hill," Joe said.

Before Hoss could answer, another bullet whizzed over their heads. Joe and Hoss both fired their guns in the direction of some trees at the top of the hill. They had only fired two or three shots when Hoss grabbed Joe's arm.

"Save your ammunition, Joe," Hoss told his brother. "We can't hit anything up there with handguns. It's too far away."

"Whoever it is must have a rifle," Joe said.

Two more shots struck the ground in front of Joe and Hoss.

"Whoever it is must be a bad shot," grumbled Hoss.

"Yeah," agreed Joe. "The least Brady could do is spend some money to hire a decent gunman."

"You don't know that's Brady's man up there," protested Hoss.

"Who else would it be?" asked Joe. "You made some enemies lately that we don't know about?"

Three more shots whizzed through the air.

"Dagnabit, this ain't getting us anywhere," Hoss complained. "We can't just stay here. That fellow up there is liable to get lucky."

"I agree," said Joe. "Why don't you throw a few shots up there to distract him, while I try to flank him."

"Now wait, Joe," Hoss replied with a frown. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Hoss, you're too slow and too big a target to go," said Joe. "Besides, if we wait here much longer, Adam will eat all that fried chicken."

"You be careful, you hear?" Hoss told his brother, reluctantly agreeing.

Nodding, Joe pulled himself to a kneeling position. He waited a minute until Hoss started firing up the hill then ran in a zigzag until he reached some boulders to the right. The boulders were about ten feet up the hill from the brush. Joe watched the trees carefully, hoping the gunman would show himself. A minute later, he saw the front of a rifle stick out from the trees and fire. Joe couldn't see the man behind the trees. He turned and waved at Hoss below him. Hoss fired two more shots up the hill as Joe ran closer to the trees, diving into a clump of bushes. His angle wasn't much better, but he was closer to his target. Joe waited again.  He saw the rifle stick out again from the trees, but this time he could see part of arm with it. He took careful aim. As the rifle fired, Joe fired also.

Joe's bullet struck true. He heard a yell and saw the rifle drop. Joe carefully crept up the hill, gun ready. As he neared the trees, he heard a horse galloping away. Joe stood and ran to the top of the hill. As he reached the trees, he could see a man on a horse, riding at top speed away from the trees. Joe fired twice at the man, but the rider was too far away.

Hoss came panting up the hill behind Joe. "Did you get him?" he asked.

"I think I winged him, but he got away," Joe answered. "Come on, let's go find our horses."

Ben and Adam were working on some papers at Ben's desk when Hoss and Joe walked into the house. Adam looked at his brothers in surprise. "You finished already?" he said. "I figured you two had at least another couple of hours of work to do."

"We had a bit of trouble," explained Hoss in a serious voice.

"What happened?" asked Ben, instantly concerned.

"A fellow took some shots at us up by Sugar Creek," said Hoss.

"Are you all right?" asked Ben in alarm.

"We're fine, Pa," answered Joe. "The guy was a pretty bad shot."

"Or maybe he wasn't trying to hit you," said Adam. "Maybe that was just a warning."

"Could be," admitted Joe. "Whatever it was, the man got away."

"I thought you told all the hands to keep an eye out for strangers," said Ben said in a demanding voice to Adam.

"I did, Pa," replied Adam. "But this is a big ranch. They can't be everywhere."

Ben nodded and turned to Joe. "Joseph, I think that you should stay close to the house for awhile. No more riding out."

"But, Pa…."Joe began to protest.

"No buts," Ben stated. "There's plenty for you to do around here. The barn needs a good cleaning and that tack room is a mess. Not to mention wood that needs to be cut."

"Pa, I hate those jobs," said Joe in disgust.

"Nevertheless, you will stay around the house," Ben repeated firmly.

Joe's shoulders sagged. "Yes sir," he said in resignation. He looked at Adam and Hoss. "You know what? I am really getting to hate that Walter Brady," he added.

Joe spent the next week doing all the unpleasant chores his father had mentioned. The more he worked in the barn, and the more wood he cut, the more furious he became. He hated not being able to leave the area around the house. To make matters worse, it seemed every time he turned around he found his father watching him.  He knew his father was just keeping a watch, making sure nothing happened to him, but having Pa hovering over him didn't improve his temper much. Joe chafed at the thought of two more weeks of Ben keeping a careful eye on him. He knew his father was right, but that didn't make things any easier. He was short with Adam and Hoss, and seemed to find everything irritating. Joe just wanted to get the trial over.

Working in the tack room, Joe heard two horses come in at a fast pace. He looked out the door and saw Adam and Hoss dismount and walk toward the house. Adam seemed to be holding his arm. Joe quickly finished hanging up some bridles he had been sorting and walked to the house.

As Joe walked in, he could see Adam was sitting on the couch. His oldest brother’s  was extended toward Ben who was sitting on a low table facing the couch. Joe could see a cloth over Adam's forearm and some blood was seeping through the cloth. As Joe approached the couch, Hoss came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of water.

"Here's the hot water," Hoss said as he put the bowl down on the table. "Hop Sing is getting the medicine and bandages."

"What happened to Adam?" Joe asked.

Hoss and Adam looked at each other, then Adam shrugged. "We were up by the herd. Two men came riding out of the trees, firing their guns. They stampeded  the cattle. We tried to stop them, and I got nicked."

Ben was unwinding the cloth around Adam's arm. "Doesn't look too bad," said Ben as he examined the wound. "You'll be all right."

"It was Brady's men, wasn't it," asked Joe.

"Aw, Joe, we don't know that for sure," Hoss replied. "Could have been anybody."

"And Adam could have been killed," Joe said. "That's the third incident in the last week. I heard about the fire up at the timber camp. I also heard about those rocks falling when you two were riding up by the canyon." He shook his head. "It's not worth it. I'm not going to risk one of you getting killed. I'll tell Brady I won't testify."

"Joe, you can't do that!" exclaimed Adam.

"Adam, you and Hoss didn't ask to get in the middle of this," argued Joe. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"You don't hear us complaining," said Hoss.

"That's right," added Adam. "If the shoe was on the other foot, and I was the one who had the testify, would you ask me not to do it?"

Joe chewed on his lower lip. "That's not the point," said Joe. "The reason we're in this mess is because everyone in Virginia City is too afraid to stand up to Brady. Well, fine. It's their town. If they don't want to stand up for it, then they deserve what they get."

Getting to his feet, Ben put his arm around Joe's shoulder. "Joe, remember what we talked about the other night?" he said. "About picking up the fight for Timmons? You can't give up now, just because the going is a little rough."

"I know, Pa, but this is different," Joe insisted. "If it was just me, I wouldn't care what Brady did. But you and Adam and Hoss didn't ask for this. I don't want something to happen to you because of me. Timmons is dead because of me. I don't want another death of my conscience."

"Joe, what do you think is going to happen if you don't testify?" asked Ben. "Do you think Brady is just going to leave us alone? If he thinks he can scare us, it's only a question of time before he's asking us for protection money. We're going to have to face him sooner or later. I'd just as soon do it now."

"Joe, nothing is going to happen to us," said Hoss in a reassuring tone of voice. "Besides, I'm getting a real big dislike for that Brady fellow.  Even If you don't want to take him on, I do."

"I don't much fancy the kind of town Virginia City would be if Brady sticks around," added Adam. "I'll take my chances if it's going to get rid of Brady."

Joe looked at his brothers. "Are you sure?" he asked in an uncertain voice.

"We're sure," Adam answered firmly. “Don't worry about us. You just testify against Marsh and let us worry about everything else."

Joe looked at father. "Sorry, Pa," he said ruefully. "I guess I just got carried away for a minute. Don't worry. I'll testify." Joe turned to Adam. "I'll go see what's keeping Hop Sing and those bandages."

Ben, Hoss and Adam watched Joe walk into the kitchen.

"It's starting to get to him, isn't it," said Adam quietly.

"I've been trying to keep him busy, but he knows I've been watching him like a hawk,"  Ben replied. "Staying around the house hasn't helped things any. He's used to riding out every day. He's really on edge."

"What are you going to do, Pa?" asked Hoss.

Ben sighed. "Nothing. I'm not going to risk anything happening to Joe. We'll just have to put up with this for another two weeks," said Ben. "That trial can't start soon enough for me, though."

Walter Brady took a deep breath as he stood outside the sheriff's office, trying to calm his nerves. He knew he had to talk with Marsh again, but hated the thought of another angry conversation. Brady took another deep breath and shook his head. Marsh was such a fool, he thought. They had a real sweet set-up here in Virginia City. His plan was to milk the town for another month or so and then move on. If he left now, Marsh would talk and he'd spend the rest of his life as a wanted man. Brady had no taste for that kind of life. But now he was faced with dealing with the Cartwrights. It was not a pleasant thought.

Brady took one more deep breath and opened the door. "Good morning, sheriff," he said in a pleasant voice.

Roy Coffee looked up from the papers he was reading on his desk. "Morning, Brady," he replied  shortly.

"I'm here to see Mr. Marsh," said Brady.

Coffee nodded but continued to sit at his desk. "Ben Cartwright sent me a message yesterday," the sheriff stated in a harsh voice. "Some mighty strange things have been happening at the Ponderosa. Yesterday, Adam Cartwright got winged by some men stampeding their cattle. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Brady licked his lips nervously. "No, sheriff," he said. "I don't know anything about it. How is young Cartwright?"

"He'll be all right," answered Coffee. "Ben also sent a message saying that Joe is still going to testify against Marsh. You might as well save yourself the effort if  you think you're going to scare the Cartwrights."

"I really don't know what you are talking about," said Brady smoothly. "But I would imagine that the Cartwrights are finding all these 'strange happenings' to be a problem for them."

"Not really," replied Roy Coffee with the hint of a grin. "Ben Cartwright's been through a lot worse. These little incidents are going to bother him much."

Brady nodded. "I'm sure," he said. "May I see Marsh?"

The sheriff stood and took a ring of keys from a desk drawer. He opened the cell block and let Brady in.Marsh was lounging on the bed in his cell. He grinned as Brady walked toward him. "Well, howdy, Mr. Brady," Marsh said. "How are things going?"

"They are not going well," answered Brady harshly. "That Cartwright kid is still planning to testify, despite all I've done to discourage him."

"I told you, Mr. Brady, there's only one way to keep him from testifying," said Marsh.

"And I told you that killing a Cartwright would bring us more trouble than any of us have ever seen," countered Brady.

Marsh shrugged. "Up to you," he said. "One way or the other, I'm going to prison. The only question is: will you be going with me."

Brady grabbed the bars of the cell. "Marsh, listen, can't we work something out?" Brady pleaded.

"I don't see how," Marsh replied evenly. "Either I tell the sheriff everything I know or I hang. Don't seem I have much of a choice."

Frustrated, Brady banged his hand against the cell bars. "All right, all right," he said angrily. Brady took a deep breath. "I guess I have no choice. I'll have Billy get rid of the kid."

"Fred is a better choice," suggested Marsh. "Billy can be a bit nervous. Offer Fred enough money and he'd shoot his own mother."

"All right, Fred, then," agreed Brady with disgust. "Just remember to keep your mouth shut."

"I'll remember," said Marsh. "Just you remember that my trial starts in less than two weeks. You haven't got a lot of time left."

Joe sighed as he finished cleaning the last rifle. Only about a week until the trial starts, he thought, only a week more and then he could leave the ranch house. Joe was really tired of doing all the mundane chores around the house. He never thought he would be eager to ride out and check fence or round up strays. Sighing again, Joe got up from the small round table near the stairs. He had spent the morning cleaning rifles that probably didn't need to be cleaned. He gathered up the weapons and carried them to the gun rack on the other side of the room. He carefully put rifles in the gun rack. Stretching a bit, Joe started walking to the front door of the house. He was about half way to the door when a voice stopped him.

"Joe, where are you going?" Ben asked in a pleasant voice. Ben had been sitting at his desk all morning. He was working on the books but also keeping an eye on Joe.

"Just going out to the barn," Joe answered. "There's a saddle out there that I want to work on. It's pretty stiff, and a little soft soap would help it."

Ben frowned. "It's getting close to noon. Hoss and Adam will be back soon," Ben said. "Why don't you let that go until later."

"Pa, nothing is going to happen to me in the barn," Joe said with a sigh. "I've cleaned every gun we own, and we have enough wood to last a month. I've run out of things to do around the house. At least let me do a few things in the barn."

"Joe, I know it's been hard for you to stay around here," Ben acknowledged sympathetically. "But it's the safest thing until that trial starts."

"Pa, nothing has happened for almost a week now," Joe replied. "I think Brady has given up."

Ben shook his head. "No, Brady is not the kind of man to give up," he said. "He's probably changing his tactics. He's also running out of time. That's why it's particularly dangerous for you now."

"I understand that," replied Joe in an exasperated voice. "But I can't spend the next week hiding under the bed!"

"All right, all right," said Ben. "Go to the barn, then, but keep your eyes open."

"I promise," Joe agreed with a grin. "If my horse looks at me funny, I promise I'll lock him in his stall."

As Joe strolled out the front door, Ben watched his youngest son with concern. He couldn't shake the feeling that Joe was in grave danger. He just didn't know what to do about it. If he had his way, he'd lock Joe in his room for the next week. But Ben knew he couldn't do that. Instead, all he could do is keep a close eye on Joe. He'd have to find a reason to go out to the barn shortly. Joe wouldn't like it, but Ben would feel better if he checked on Joe. With a shake of his head, Ben picked up his pen and went back to working on his books.

Out in the barn, Joe soaped the saddle with hard, fast strokes, pressing the leather with more pressure than it needed. He was trying to ease the frustration he was feeling. He knew his father and brothers had his best interests in mind, but Joe was tired of being protected. All he wanted was to be able to jump on his horse and ride someplace…any place.

Joe was working intently on the saddle when he heard the footsteps behind him. He turned with a sigh, expecting to see his father. He froze when he saw the figure of a big man, holding a gun, standing just inside the barn.

"Finally," the man said with an evil grin. "I've been waiting almost a week to get you alone."

"What do you want?" Joe asked.

"What do you think?" replied the man. "I want you not to testify against my friend Marsh."

Joe said nothing. He was unarmed, with only a brush in his hand. He knew the man planned to kill him, regardless of whether he said he would testify or not.

"You're going to testify anyway, aren't you?" said the man as Joe stood silent. The man cocked his pistol. "Well, I know one way to make sure you aren't going to testify."

As the man raised his gun, Joe threw the brush and hit him square in the face. Startled, the man lowered the gun. Joe charged, and knocked the gun from the assassin’s hand. The big man recovered quickly. With a quick motion, he brought a fist up and hit Joe square  in the stomach. Joe bent over as the punch knock the breath from him. The man raised his fist again, but this time Joe ducked the blow.

Quickly, Joe brought his own fist up and hit the man on the jaw. The two grappled for a minute until the big man pushed Joe back. The gunman grabbed some reins hanging from a peg and whipped the rawhide at Joe. Joe put his hands up to protect his face and felt the sting of the leather on his arms. He charged the man again, hoping to knock him off his feet. But the assassin was strong. He staggered back a few steps, then regained his balance. The gunman came at Joe again, fists flying. Joe felt the blows land on his face. His head snapped back and he fell to the ground. The big man pulled Joe to his feet and landed another punch on Joe's face. Joe's legs buckled as the gunman pushed Joe hard. Joe staggered backwards a  few feet and fell to the ground, stunned.

The big man stood over Joe for a minute, breathing hard. With a satisfied grunt, the assassin turned and began searching the ground for his gun.

Laying on the floor of the barn, Joe shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. He sat up and saw the man reaching down to pick up his pistol from the ground. Joe scrambled to his feet, just as the man turned to aim the gun. Joe dove into an empty stall as the assassin fired his gun.

Ben was still working at his desk when he heard the shot from the barn. He jumped to his feet and ran to the front door, stopping only to pull a gun from a holster laying on the table by the door. Ben pulled the door open, and ran to the barn, gun ready.

As Ben reached the barn door, he saw a man walking slowly toward a stall. The man was moving cautiously, gun poised. "Hold it!" shouted Ben at the man. The man whirled around, firing his gun as he turned. Ben jumped to the side, and heard the bullet whiz by. Ben fired twice, hitting the man in the middle of the chest. The big man grabbed his chest, then fell face forward.

Moving  forward slowly Ben stopped by the body on the barn floor and nudged it with his foot. Satisfied that the man was dead, Ben began to frantically look around the barn for Joe.

"Joe! Joe!" Ben shouted as head went from side to side, searching for his son.

He heard a voice answer from a stall to his right. Ben rushed forward and stood at the entrance of the stall.

Joe was huddled in the corner at the back of the stall.  His body was tense, and he had a pitchfork in his hands, with the tines pointed at the front of the stall. When he saw Ben's face, Joe's body went limp. He dropped the pitchfork and rested his head against the back of the stall.

Ben stared at his youngest son for a minute. Joe's face was bruised and a cut over Joe's eye was bleeding. But even more alarming was a spreading patch of red on Joe's thigh.

"Joe! You're wounded!" Ben cried as he rushed forward. He knelt next to Joe and started tearing open Joe's pants over the wound. He looked at the bullet hole in Joe's thigh. "The bullet is still in there," said Ben in a worried tone. He looked at Joe's face. His son’s eyes were closed and his face was pale. Joe's jaws were clenched in pain. "Hang on a minute, Joe," Ben told his son. "I'll get something to stop the bleeding."

Rushing out of the stall, Ben ran to the front of the barn. He turned to his right just before he got to the door, rushing into a work area. He ran to a small cabinet in the area and pulled open the doors. He grabbed some cloth from the shelf and rushed back to the stall.

When Ben returned to the stall, he could Joe's eyes were open and his son was breathing hard.  Ben began wrapping the cloth tightly over Joe's wound.

"It was one of Brady's men," gasped Joe as Ben worked. "He said…" Joe groaned as Ben pulled the cloth tight. "He said he had been waiting for me," finished Joe in a weak voice.

"Don't worry about that now," said Ben as he worked. He pulled the cloth as tight as he could, trying to stop the bleeding, even though he knew the tight bandaged was causing Joe pain. He knotted the cloth and sat back on his heels. He looked at Joe's face again. Joe's eyes were once again closed and his breathing was fast and heavy.

"Joe, if I help you, do you think you can walk?" asked Ben anxiously. "I have to get you to the house." Joe nodded and sat up. Ben reached down and grabbed Joe under his arms, pulling his son to his feet.

Grunting in pain, Joe tried to stand. He put his arm over Ben's shoulders, and leaned heavily on his father. Ben grabbed Joe's hand with his left hand, and put his right arm under Joe's left arm. "Easy, now," Ben said. "Let's take it real slow." Joe nodded again.

Walking slowly, Ben helped his son out of the stall. Joe managed a few steps, dragging his injured leg behind him. He was breathing even harder as he tried to walk. Joe grabbed the front of Ben's shirt with his free hand and hung on. Ben dragged his son out of the barn toward the house, which right now seemed to be miles away. He held on to his son as tight as he could and started slowly toward the house. He was about halfway to the house when he heard horses coming up behind him. Turning his head a bit, Ben saw Hoss and Adam riding into the yard. Both men reined their horses to a stop. Hoss jumped off his horse and rushed to the pair.

"One of Brady's men got to Joe," shouted Ben. "He's got a bullet in his leg. Get to town and get the doctor."

"I saw the doc heading toward the Miller place a little while ago," yelled Adam in reply as he turned his horse. "I'll get him." Adam kicked his horse into a gallop.

With rapid but gentle movements, Hoss slipped Joe's left arm over his massive shoulders. "I got him, Pa," said Hoss as he shifted his brother from his father.  He reached down and put his arm under Joe's knees. As he stood, he lifted his brother into arms.

"I can walk," protested Joe in a weak voice. But even as he spoke, Joe's head flopped against Hoss' shoulder.

"Sure you can," Hoss answered in a soothing voice. "But this will be faster." He nodded at Ben who ran ahead to clear the way for Hoss.

As Ben ran into the house, he vowed to himself that Walter Brady was going to pay for what had happened to Joe. He promised himself that he would see Brady in prison. One way or the other, Brady was finished in Virginia City.

Doctor Martin pulled the blanket up under Joe's chin, and patted the youngest Cartwright lightly on the head. Martin took a few steps back toward the end of the bed, where Ben, Adam and Hoss were standing in anxious anticipation.

"He'll be fine," the doctor said, nodding at Joe. "It's a painful wound, but fortunately, there's no permanent damage. The bullet nicked the bone. It also nicked an artery, which is why he lost so much blood. He'll need a few days in bed and a couple of weeks on crutches, but he'll be fine."

Ben breathed a sigh of relief. He had had a hard time stopping Joe's wound from bleeding, and was concerned that the injury might be worse than he thought. He was grateful that Adam had found Doctor Martin so quickly.

"Just make sure I'm up and around in time to testify," said Joe in a thick voice. His eyes were only half opened and had a glazed, unfocused look.

"You stop fighting that sedative and go to sleep," ordered the doctor sternly. "What you need now, young man, is plenty of rest."

Joe nodded as his eyelids grew heavy. "Just get me on my feet," he said in a slurred voice as he began to fall asleep.

"Will he be well enough to testify?" asked Adam anxiously.

"When does the trial start? In about a week?" asked the doctor. "He should be on his feet by then. Just make sure he gets a lot of rest until then. He lost a lot of blood. He's weak, and I don't want him picking up any infections."

"We'll watch him, " Ben said. He looked at the doctor. "I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything about this to anyone."

"I don't go around talking about my patients, Ben," replied the doctor in slightly indignant voice.

"I know that," said Ben. "But no one knows what happened except the people in this room. I want to be sure it stays that way."

"Don't you want to tell the sheriff?" asked Hoss.

"Especially not the sheriff, at least not right away," answered Ben firmly. "If Roy knows about this, he'll do something that will let Brady know his man failed."

"I don't understand," said the doctor with a frown.

"Brady doesn't know if his man got to Joe or not," explained Ben. "If we keep this quiet for a day or so, that will buy us that much more time. Brady won't do anything as long as he thinks his man still has a chance to get Joe."

"That makes sense," Adam agreed. "But, Pa, we can't keep this quiet for long."

"I know, I know," said Ben with a sigh. "But every day we can prevent Brady from finding out about this is a day less that Joe is in danger."

Doctor Martin walked over to the table and picked up his bag. "I'll stop by and check on him in the morning, Ben," the doctor stated. "I have to check on Will Miller anyway. I'll let everyone know I'm heading to the Miller place so no one will think it odd if I'm heading in this direction. And don't worry, Ben, no one will hear about this from me."

"Thank you," Ben said quietly as the doctor left the room. He walked around the end of the bed and pulled a chair next to the bed. Ben sat down in the chair and stared at Joe.

Adam nudged Hoss. "Let's go downstairs," he murmured to his brother. "I have something I want to talk with you about."

Evening was turning into night as Ben left Joe's room. Joe was still sleeping peacefully, and Ben felt he could leave his son for a short time. As Ben descended the stairs, he saw Adam and Hoss were sitting in the living room, drinking coffee. They looked expectantly at their father.

"How's Joe?" asked Hoss.

"Still asleep," answered Ben as he walked over and sat down in his favorite chair next to the fireplace.

"Want something to eat?" asked Adam. "Hop Sing has been keeping something warm for you."

"No, I'm not hungry," said Ben in a weary voice. "I could use a cup of that coffee, though."

Adam stood and walked over to the low table in the middle of the room where coffee pot and several cups sat.  Adam poured a cup of coffee and handed it to his father. Ben nodded his thanks and sipped the hot liquid.

"Brady's man came close this time," Ben said as he sipped the coffee. "Real close. We're going to have make sure we keep the front door locked and everyone away from the house. I'm not going to let them have another chance at  Joe. I'm going to do whatever it takes to protect him."

Adam and Hoss looked at each other, and Hoss nodded briefly. "We agree, Pa" Adam acknowledged his father’s statement. "That's why we think Joe should be moved to Virginia City as soon as possible."

"What?" exclaimed Ben in astonished voice. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Now hear us out, Pa," said Hoss. "Adam and I have been talking about it, and we think moving Joe is a good idea."

"Look, Pa," added Adam urgently. "Brady is going to get tired of waiting for his man to report back. There's no telling what he might do. He could attack the house, even burn it. Joe's liable to get hurt worse if he stays here."

"That's right," Hoss continued. "On the other hand, if you announce in Virginia City that we've hidden Joe away, Brady won't know where to look."

"And he would never think of looking in Virginia City, right under his nose," Adam finished.

"I don't know," replied Ben doubtfully.

"Pa, Joe is going to have to get to Virginia City to testify," said Adam. "If we wait for the day of the trial, Brady is liable to have his men waiting on the trail for us."

"We have enough hands to give Brady a fight," argued Ben stubbornly.

"Yeah, but it'll be a heck of a fight," said Hoss. "People are liable to get hurt, even killed, on both sides. I know you don't want that."

"No, you're right," admitted Ben. "I don't want anyone hurt. But when and where would we take Joe to Virginia City?"

"When would be as soon as the doctor says he's fit to travel," said Adam. “Where is the tough part."

"We've been talking about it. We just can't figure out where to hide Joe," admitted Hoss.

"The jail's no good," Adam told his father. "For one thing, it's a drafty and cold place.  With the shape Joe's in, I wouldn't want to risk him in there. Besides, it would be too easy for someone to send a bullet through a window."

"And the hotel is no good, either," added Hoss. "Too many people around. Someone's bound to see Joe and report back to Brady. Joe would be too easy to get to if Brady knew he was in the hotel."

"What we need is someplace in Virginia City where no one would think of looking," said Adam. "Someplace where Joe can hide out for a few days."

"And you haven't been able to think of a place?" asked Ben.

"No sir, we haven't," admitted Hoss. "Everyone we think of is either too scared of Brady to take in Joe or has a family or something that makes it too dangerous."

"If we could find the right place, we could get Joe to town safely," Adam stated.

Ben thought for a few minutes, then looked at Adam and Hoss. "I'm still not convinced this is a good idea," he said. "But if Joe agrees to your plan, I think I know just the place."

Doctor Martin finished examining Joe's wound the next day about mid-morning. He smiled at Joe as he stood. "I think you'll live," he said with a wry grin. The doctor turned to Ben, Adam and Hoss who were once again standing around the foot of the bed. "Just keep him quiet for another day or so," the doctor told theCartwrights. "He'll be fine."

"How soon could we move him?" asked Adam.

"Move him?" replied Doctor Martin in a startled voice. "Move him where?"

"It's better you don't know where," said Hoss. "All you need to know is Joe is going somewhere safe."

"I'm going to have to know," stated the doctor with a frown. "If nothing else, I'm going to have to take out those stitches. And I want to keep a close eye on Joe to make sure there's no infection."

"Don't worry, doc," said Joe from the bed. "I'll be just fine."

"And where did you get your medical degree?" demanded Doctor Martin. He shook  his head. "I appreciate what your trying to do, but I'm sorry. I need to check on Joe."

With frowns on their faces, Adam, Hoss and Ben looked at each other. They had thrashed out a plan last night, examining it from all angles and looking for weaknesses. They were convinced they had thought of every possible problem. Joe had agreed with them when they outlined the plan to him this morning. However, visits from the doctor were a complication they hadn't anticipated.

"Doc, when do you need to see Joe again?" Adam asked thoughtfully.

"Well, he'll probably be all right for a day or two," answered the doctor. "But I really should see him again day after tomorrow."

Ben shook his head. "Maybe we should forget the whole thing. I don't like the idea of moving Joe, anyway. I'd feel better if we kept him here."

"Pa, we talked about this," said Joe firmly. "If I stay here, all of you could be in danger. It's better if I go….someplace else."

"When can we move him?" repeated Adam to the doctor.

The doctor frowned. "If you must move him, he should be well enough to move tomorrow," he admitted in a reluctant voice.

How about tonight?" asked Hoss.

Doctor Martin looked at Joe with a thoughtful expression. "If he stays in bed all day and rests, and you bundle him up against the night air, and if you don't take him too far, he should be able to travel tonight," the doctor said in a reluctant voice.

"All right, then, " stated Adam. "We'll move Joe tonight. We'll figure out some way to get the doctor to him."

"Adam, I don't know about this," said Ben again in a doubtful voice.

"Pa, it's going to be fine," Joe assured his father with a weak smile. "Besides, all I have to do is lay around for a few days until that trial starts. I can do that anywhere." "But if Brady's men find you…." Ben started.

"I can take care of myself," Joe said in a confident voice.

"You haven't exactly done a bang up job of taking care of yourself," replied Ben. "I'd feel better if you were staying here at the Ponderosa."

"So would I," added the doctor.

"Don't worry," Joe said. "Pa, you just take care of the things we talked about."

Ben rode into Virginia City with two of his ranch hands following close behind him. Adam and Hoss had insisted that he take the two men with him, in case Brady tried to grab Ben to use as leverage against Joe, and  Ben had reluctantly agreed. He was beginning to understand how Joe felt with someone watching him all the time. Ben reined his horse to a stop in front of a building in the middle of town.  As he dismounted, the ranch hands got down from their horses also. Ben turned  to the two men. "You wait here," he said.

"All right, Mr. Cartwright," agreed one of the men. "But if you're not out of there in fifteen minutes, we're coming in after you."

Nodding, Ben walked to the door of the building. He pushed the door open and walked in.

Walter Brady sat behind a desk in the middle of the room, a sheaf of papers in his hand, and a cigar in his mouth. Brady looked up in surprise as Ben walked into the office. "Mr. Cartwright!" said Brady, trying to keep his voice even. "What can I do for you?"

"You can call off your men," replied Ben in an angry voice.

"Call off my men?"  Brady feigned surprise. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

"I think you do," answered Ben, the anger in his voice growing. "Your men have harassed my sons and disrupted the work on my ranch. I want it stopped – now."

"Mr. Cartwright, I assure you that I have no idea what you are talking about," said Brady in a smooth tone of voice.

"Brady, I'm warning you. If anything happens to Joe, or to any of my sons, I'm going to come after you," Ben declared. "And I don't make idle threats." Without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel and stalked out the door.

With a thoughtful expression, Brady chewed on his cigar. From what Ben Cartwright said, Brady surmised that  Fred hadn't made his move yet. Cartwright would have said something if he had. Silently, Brady cursed his gunman. What was taking him so long? If Fred didn't get to that Cartwright kid soon, he'd have to come up with another plan.

With a satisfied smile on his face, Ben walked away from Brady’s office. He felt sure Brady still thought his man was laying in wait for Joe on the Ponderosa. If Brady thought  his man was still out at the ranch some place, the Cartwrights would have the extra day or two they needed to put their plan into action.

As he reached the two hands still standing near the hitching post, Ben told the me,  "Go get yourselves a beer. I need to see an old friend. I'll meet you at the saloon in about an hour."

"I don't know, Mr. Cartwright," replied one of the hands doubtfully. "Adam said we was to stay with you."

"I'll be all right," said Ben said with a smile. "Brady's not going to try anything in broad daylight in the middle of Virginia City. Go get that beer."

The streets of Virginia City were dark and quiet as a buggy drove quietly through town, followed by two riders. The top of the buggy was up to prevent anyone from easily seeing into it. But at 3 am, there was no one around to look into the buggy. The saloons were closed and even the most raucous cowboys were sleeping  off their whiskey. The buggy and riders turned down a back street and came to a halt behind a big house. A single lamp shown in the window of the house, seeming even brighter than usual since all around it was in darkness. A dark figure climbed out of the buggy and walked to the other side, looking around cautiously as the two riders halted their horses behind the buggy and dismounted. Satisfied that all was quiet, the figure reached an arm into the buggy to help a second figure awkwardly climb down. The second person teetered a bit as his feet reached the ground; his hand grabbed the side of the buggy to steady himself. The first figure reached back into the buggy and pulled out a pair of crutches. He handed the crutches to the person standing next to the buggy. It took a minute for the shadowy figure to steady himself on the crutches. Then the two people moved forward as silently as possible, followed on foot by the two riders. As the four of them reached the back door of the house, the door opened. A woman holding a lamp was outlined in the doorway.

"Come on in, Ben," Maggie Corcoran said in a low voice. "You're right on time."

Ben nodded and turned to help Joe up the low steps to the house. Maggie stepped back and pulled the door open as Joe swung himself up to the top step on crutches. He positioned the crutches inside the doorway, and swung himself in. As he moved into the house, Joe was followed by Ben, Adam and Hoss. Maggie quickly closed the door behind them.  The group was standing in a large kitchen in the back of the house.

"Maggie, I always knew you would finally relent and let me move in," said Joe with a shaky grin. His face was pale and sweaty. He was surprised how tired and shaky he felt after just those few steps from the buggy.

Maggie looked at Joe with concern. She could see he was trying to put up a brave front and decided to go along with him. "Don't be getting any ideas," she replied with a snort. The grins that appeared on the faces of the Cartwrights showed Maggie that her efforts to keep things from being too serious were being rewarded.

Jerking her head a bit, Maggie turned to lead the men through the house. "Follow me," she said. "I'll show you to your room." Joe followed her slowly, grunting with  effort. Ben followed Joe, his hand ready to steady his son if he should falter. Adam and Hoss were behind Joe. A saddlebag was slung over Hoss' shoulder.

Moving slowly to accommodate Joe’s pace, Maggie led the men from the kitchen and through a narrow hallway.  A large room with a sofa and stuffed chairs was visible at the end of the hall. Maggie stopped in front of a door to her left, near the end of the hall. She looked behind her to make sure Joe was managing all right, then pushed open the door. Entering the room, Maggie set the lamp on a table next to a bed. Another lamp was on the table, and Maggie quickly lit it, making the room seem even brighter than before. Joe struggled in behind Maggie and made his way straight to the bed. He sat down quickly on the edge of the bed, sighing with relief. Beads of sweat were visible on Joe's face as he rubbed his aching thigh. Ben, Adam and Hoss followed Joe and Maggie into the room.

Pulling the saddlebags off his shoulder, Hoss walked to the end of the bed.. "This is really nice," he commented,  looking around at the well furnished room. A dresser was pushed against the back wall, and a desk and chair were against the wall to the right. An overstuffed chair was positioned near the bed. A pitcher and basin were on top of a small table next to the dresser, and fresh towels hung over a bar attached to the side of the table. Several pictures dotted the walls. "Looks like you're going to be living in the lap of luxury, little brother," Hoss continued.

"Glad you approve," said Maggie with satisfaction. "When my husband was alive, he often had the men he was doing business with stay in this room. Said it  made them easier to deal with than if they were staying over at the hotel."

Ben walked over to Joe, and put his hand lightly on his son's shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

Joe took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine," he answered with a small smile. "Just a little tired."

"I'll let you get Joe settled and into bed," said Maggie, picking up the first lamp. "I've got some coffee brewing in the kitchen if you want some."

Fore the next few minutes, Maggie busied herself in the kitchen. She took the coffee pot off the stove and put it on the center of the wooden table in the middle of the room. She was taking some cups out of a cupboard when she heard footsteps coming down the hallway. She was surprised to see Ben walking into the kitchen.

"Joe kicked me out," Ben explained with a smile. "Said I was hovering. He said he could manage fine with Adam and Hoss to help him."

Maggie nodded. "Well, sit down and have a cup of coffee," she offered as she placed the cups on the table.

With a nod of gratitude, Ben sat at the table and poured a cup of coffee. “Maggie, I can't thank you enough for doing this," he said with a sober expression.

"Pish," replied Maggie briskly as she sat down at the table also. "Anything I can do to help get Brady and his men out of this town is fine with me. Besides, you know how I feel about Joe." Maggie looked at Ben for a minute. "Are you sure he's going to be all right?" she asked. "He looked awfully pale."

"He's not as strong as he thinks he is," admitted Ben. "You're going to have to watch him to make sure he doesn't try to do to much."

"I'll watch over him, Ben," Maggie said in a reassuring voice. "Don't worry." She chuckled suddenly. "Remember the first time he asked me to marry him?"

 Ben smiled. "He was about seven or eight, wasn't he?"

"Something like that," replied Maggie. "I found him in an alley next to the general store, crying his eyes out. His shirt was torn and his face was bruised. He told me he had gotten into a fight with one of the other boys at  school."

"As I recall, the boy made fun of Hop Sing when Hop Sing brought the lunch Joe had forgotten to school," said Ben. "When the boy repeated what he said after school, Joe really lit into him."

"When I found him, Joe was afraid to go home," Maggie continued with a smile. "He was afraid that you would be mad at him for fighting, even though he gave that other boy a good licking. I brought him here, cleaned him up, and fed him cookies while I mended his shirt. I finally convinced him that I would make things right with you so he would agree to go home." Maggie's face softened. "On the way to the Ponderosa, Joe said wanted to marry me. I'm not sure if it was me or my cookies he liked. But he was terribly disappointed when I explained I already had a husband."

Ben laughed softly. "You were always his first love, Maggie."

"When my husband died, Joe stopped by the house every day for almost a month," recalled Maggie. "He always had some excuse but I knew he was just trying to help me get through it. I don't know if I could have managed without him."

Ben sipped his coffee. "Maggie," he said in a serious voice. "You need to be very careful. If Brady finds out Joe is here, he'll do anything to get to him. He's liable to harm anyone who gets in his way."

"I know that, Ben," Maggie replied in an equally serious voice. "And I know how hard it must be for you to leave him here. Don't worry. I'll watch over him as if he were my own. I'm honored you think enough of me to trust one of your sons to me. I know how much they mean to you."

Ben reached out and covered Maggie's hand with his own. "I can't think of anyone I would trust more," he said.

Hearing a door close softly, Ben turned to see Adam and Hoss walking into the kitchen. "You get Joe settled all right?" he asked.

Adam nodded. "He's fine," said Adam. "We got him into bed."

"He was pretty much asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow," added Hoss.

"We'd better get going, then," said Ben, getting to his feet. "I want to be back to the Ponderosa before it gets light." Ben turned to Maggie. "Thank you again. I'll stop by this afternoon like we planned."

Maggie nodded and followed the Cartwrights to the door. She stood at the door for a minute and watched as Adam and Hoss mounted their horses and Ben climbed into the buggy. Then she closed the door, and, with a loud click, slammed home the lock on the door.

Joe woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. As he woke, for a moment, he was disoriented, trying to figure out where he was. Then he remembered he was at Maggie's house. He remembered Hoss helping undress and get into his nightshirt  as Adam stored his things in the dresser. Joe looked around the room. The crutches were leaning on the wall next to the bed. His gunbelt with his pistol  were hanging on the bedpost at the top of the bed. Joe shifted his weight on the bed, wincing as he moved. His leg hurt a lot more than he was willing to admit, and all that walking he had done hadn't helped things.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then the door opened. Maggie walked in with a smile on her face. "Well, sleepy head, I see you're finally awake," she said briskly.

"Morning, Maggie," Joe replied. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine," Maggie told him.

"Nine o'clock?" said Joe. "I must have been more tired than I thought." He started to pull the bed covers off.

Quickly Maggie walked to the bed and gently but firmly pushed Joe back. "You stay where you are," she ordered in a stern voice. "I'll bring your breakfast in here."

"I can get up," Joe protested.

"You're spending today in bed, no arguments," declared Maggie. "I told your Pa that I'd take care of you, and that's just what I mean to do."

"I'm all right," Joe said for what seemed the hundredth time.

"And you're going to stay that way," replied  Maggie. "A day in bed won't hurt you. Now, I'm going to get your breakfast."

Laying back against the pillows, Joe smiled as Maggie left the room. The truth was that a day in bed sounded awfully good. He still felt tired and his leg ached. He was happy to let Maggie order him around, at least for now.

Only a few minutes passed until Maggie brought Joe a tray of bacon, eggs, toast and coffee. As Joe ate, Maggie sat in the chair  and chatted idly with him. When Joe was finished, Maggie stood and took the tray. "It must be getting close to ten," she stated. "I've got to get over to the doc's."

"The doc's?" Joe said in alarm. "You're not sick or anything, are you?"

"No, I'm not sick or anything," replied Maggie with a smile. "But I've figured out a way to get the doc over here to check on you without anyone getting suspicious. But to do it, I've got to be over at the doc's at ten, when Mary Wilson gets there."

"What's wrong with Mrs. Wilson?" asked Joe curiously.

“Nothing, except having too much time on her hands," answered Maggie with a snort. "She imagines all kinds of aches and pains. So every Friday at ten o'clock, she shows up at the doc's. Doc Martin listens to her complaints and gives her a tonic. Probably just sugar and water. Anyway, that keeps her satisfied until the next Friday, when they go through the whole thing again."

"I still don't get it," said Joe. "What does Mrs. Wilson have to do with the doctor coming here."

"Mary Wilson is also the biggest gossip in Virginia City," explained Maggie. "I'm going to make sure she knows the doc has a good reason to be visiting here. Because if she knows, then half Virginia City will know by noon."

"And what will be the reason?" asked Joe, his curiosity growing.

"I'm going to cut my hand," replied Maggie. "Only not really…just a little chicken blood on a cloth wrapped around it. I'll go rushing over to the doc's while Mary is there. She'll spread the word about the accident all over Virginia City. Probably add that I'm getting senile, too."

Joe laughed. "Maggie, you're a lot of things," he said. "But senile ain't one of them."

Maggie smiled then sobered quickly. "I'm locking up the house when I leave, Joe," she stated. "If anyone comes by, don't answer the door. In fact, it probably would be best if you don't leave this room. Just stay in bed, like I said."

"You don't really think Brady would try anything here?" said Joe. "In the middle of Virginia City?"

"Walter Brady is a desperate man," Maggie answered. "And desperate men are dangerous men. I'm not taking any chances."

"I'm not sure who's in jail any more…Marsh or me," Joe complained.

"Well, at least you have the nicer prison," Maggie said with a grin. "Now, take a nap while I go see the doc."

Ben rode into Virginia City in the early afternoon. He was leading a horse that had a body wrapped in canvas slung over the saddle. Two ranch hands were following him into town again. A crowd of curious townspeople began to follow the men down the Virginia City street. Ben rode slowly but looked straight ahead, his expression grim. He rode straight to the sheriff's office.

Ben halted the horses in front of Roy Coffee's office and dismounted. The two hands sat in their saddles as Ben climbed the steps to the office. The crowd around  the office was growing watching curiously as Ben knocked on the door. "Roy, it's me, Ben Cartwright," he yelled as he knocked. "Can you come out here a minute."

Roy Coffee opened the door and stepped outside. "What can I do for you, Ben?"  he said. Coffee's eyes caught the body over the saddle. He looked quickly at Ben and swallowed hard. "Who's that?" he asked.

"That," Ben answered in a loud voice, "is a man who tried to shoot my son, Joseph. I'm sure he's one of Brady's men." Ben turned to face the crowd. "I wanted all f you to see what happens to anyone who tries to harm a Cartwright. I wanted everyone to know so that the next time Walter Brady tries to get one of you to come after Joe, you'll know what's going to happen."

"Is Joe all right?" asked Coffee anxiously.

Ignoring the sheriff's question, Ben continued to address the crowd. "Joe's no longer at the Ponderosa. He's somewhere safe so he'll be able to testify at that trial on Monday. You've let Walter Brady walk all over you. And the result is that my son has been threatened and forced to leave his home. My son is sacrificing everything to try and save this town. He thinks you are worth it. I hope he's right."

A murmur went through the crowd. Most of the people lowered their eyes and looked away from Ben.

Ben turned back to Coffee. "What time does the trial start on Monday?" he asked.

"Ten o'clock sharp," answered the sheriff. "The judge arrives late Sunday night."

Ben nodded. "Joe will be at the Virginia City courthouse at ten o'clock," he said. Ben gestured toward the body on the horse. "Will you take care of things?" he asked. "I'll come by later and write out what happened." Coffee nodded and moved toward the body.

Moving his head, Ben scanned the crowd of people who were slowly drifting away. He saw Maggie standing in the crowd with her hand heavily bandaged. Ben hurried down the steps to  Maggie. "Maggie, what happened?" he asked in a low voice.

"Oh, I just cut my hand," Maggie said in a loud voice as she looked Ben straight in the eye. "The doc patched it up this morning. But he said he would stop by and check on me later today, and probably for the next few days. Wants to make sure there's no infection. He also said something about having to take out stitches.

A smile twitched at Ben's mouth. "Nothing seriously wrong, then, I presume?"

"Nothing wrong at all," Maggie answered, continuing to look at Ben.

"I'll walk you home," Ben said, taking Maggie gently by the arm. He started to ask something more, but Maggie quickly quieted him with a shake of her head.

Ben walked with Maggie down the streets of Virginia City until they reached her house. Maggie pulled a key from the purse hanging from her arm and handed it to Ben. "Been keeping the house locked since all this trouble began," she explained. Ben nodded and unlocked the door. He held it open to let Maggie enter first.

Maggie waited until Ben had closed the door behind them before saying anything. "Joe, it's me," she announced in a loud voice. There was no answer. "Probably asleep," said Maggie. "He's been sleeping most of the day."

His eyes searching the room for any sign of a disturbance, Ben nodded slowly. The house seemed awfully quiet. Ben walked to Joe's room and slowly opened the door. As he did so, Ben heard the click of a gun being cocked.

Quickly, Ben pushed the door open quickly, his hand on his gun, ready to draw. As he burst into the room, he saw Joe sitting up in bed, with a pistol aimed at the door.

"Sorry, Pa," Joe said ruefully, as he uncocked the pistol and lowered the gun. "I was asleep and something woke me. I heard you coming, but I wasn't sure who it was."

"It's all right, Joe," replied Ben as he moved his hand from his gun. "We're all a little nervous. I'll tell Maggie to yell a little louder next time."

With a sigh, Joe put his gun back in the holster hanging on the bedpost, then laid back against the pillows. "Three more days," he said.  "This could be a longest three days of my life."

Brady paced back and forth in his office as four of his men watched. "Fred's dead and the Cartwright kid is hidden away," he said angrily. "We've really botched this up. We've got to find that kid before the trial starts on Monday."

"We can always get him on Monday," said one of the men.

"On the steps of the courthouse? With half of Virginia City watching?" Brady answered angrily. "Your showing about as much sense as Marsh."

"Mr. Brady, we've talked to just about everyone in this town. Made it real clear what would happen if they didn't tell us where young Cartwright was," said another man.  "Every one of them swears they don't know where he is. I believe them. These folks are too scared to lie to us."

"We've got to find him," Brady told his men. "Billy, you and Peters start checking around the Ponderosa. Be careful. I don't want Ben Cartwright or any of his men to see you. Check the line shacks and the cabins. He can't have gone too far. Not with the trial starting on Monday." Brady pointed at the other two men. "You two start asking around town again. Keep your ears open. Anyone even mentions the name of Joe Cartwright, I want to know about it."

The four men nodded and started for the door. "And don't forget," called Brady as the men headed out the door. “You see Cartwright, you kill him.”

Maggie walked into Perkins' store with an empty basket. Her hand was still bandaged; the doctor had remembered to re-do the bandage when he came by to  check on Joe. Maggie was concerned about Joe. He seemed too quiet, and still looked pale to her. The doctor had assured her that there was nothing wrong that rest and some nourishing food wouldn't cure. So while Joe was getting some rest, Maggie was determined to buy some tempting morsels to improve his appetite.

"Afternoon, Maggie," said Mr. Perkins in greeting as she walked into the store. "I heard about your accident. How's your hand feel?"

"It's fine, Mr. Perkins," replied Maggie as she placed her basket on the counter. "I need a few things."

"Sure, Maggie, what can I get you?" Perkins asked.

Before Perkins could answer, Maggie heard the door behind her open. She turned and saw one of Brady's men stroll in. Maggie frowned at the sight of him. Quickly, she turned back to the store owner. "I'll sure be happy when that trial starts on Monday," she said in a loud voice. "I can't imagine what poor Joe Cartwright must be going through."

Perkins looked nervously at the man standing behind Maggie. "I think we'll all be happy when that trial starts," agreed Perkins. "Now what can I get you?"

“I want a jar of peaches," Maggie told the store owner.  "And some of that ham you just got in. Throw in six of those potatoes, also."

Nodding, Perkins began reaching for the items. "Planning to cook for something special?" he asked. "This is an awful lot for one person."

“Maybe," answered Maggie with a distracted air as she looked around. "Do you have any of any saltwater taffy?"

“I'll have to look," said Perkins. "Don't sell much of that except to the Cartwrights. Joe Cartwright can't get enough that stuff. Eats it every chance he gets. Didn't know you like it, though."

From the corner of her eye, Maggie saw Brady’s man come to attention. She berated herself silently  for asking about the taffy. "Just acquired a taste for it," Maggie answered quickly. "But never mind. I'll come back later for it."

"I can look; it'll only take me a minute," said Perkins, heading into the back of the store.

Maggie stood nervously at counter as she waited for Perkins to return.  The man behind her was staring at her thoughtfully. Maggie wanted to turn and walk out the door, but felt that would just add to the man's suspicions. It seemed forever before Mr. Perkins came out of the back room. "Sorry, Maggie," he said. "I seem to be out. Joe Cartwright must have cleaned me out."

"That's all right," Maggie replied. She picked up her basket which Perkins had filled. "Just put this on my bill, please." With a brief nod, Maggie turned and hurried out the door.

Maggie tried to walk down the street to her house at a normal pace, but she glanced over her shoulder as she walked. The man from the store was following her. She hurried her pace a bit, wanting to get home as soon as possible. When she reached the house, Maggie nervously fumbled with the key to her door.  She finally got the door unlocked. As she entered the house, she looked over her shoulder again. The man was standing a few feet away, watching her carefully. Maggie slammed the door shut behind her.

Joe was sitting in a chair in the living room, his injured leg propped on a footstool. He put down the newspaper he was reading when Maggie walked in. He was surprised at the look on her face.

“Is something wrong?" Joe asked as Maggie sagged against the front door.

"I don't know," Maggie admitted. "Joe, I was such a fool. I went to Perkins and bought enough food for the two of us…more than I usually buy. And I tried to get some of that taffy you like."

Joe grinned. "I hardly think that's something to get upset about," he said.

"Yes, it is," replied Maggie. "One of Brady's men was in the store and heard everything I said. He followed me home."

Alarmed, Joe tried to get to his feet quickly, but his injured leg wouldn't support him. He fell back into the chair, with a grimace of pain on his face.

Her face showing concern, Maggie rushed to the chair. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "You want to break open that wound? You do and your Pa'll never forgive me!"

"Sorry," Joe mumbled as he rubbed his sore leg. "I keep forgetting. I was just going to see if Brady's man was still hanging around."

"Well, in that case, I'm glad you can't walk," said Maggie with a shake of her head. "You're even a bigger fool than I am. If you start peeking out windows and Brady's man sees you, he'll know for sure you're here."

A small smile crossed Joe's face. "You're right, Maggie," he agreed. "We're not very good at this, are we?"

Maggie smiled back at him. "I guess not," she said. "Sneaking around has never been one of the things I do well."

Joe turned serious. "What do you think we should do?" he asked.

Maggie thought for a moment, then sighed. "I think the best thing to do is nothing," she said. "Your Pa or Adam will be by later today. We can ask them what they think. In the meantime, Brady can't be sure you're here. Let's see if we can keep him guessing for a while longer."

Ben filled his saddlebags with the slices of pie and cookies that Hop Sing insisted he take to Joe. Ben knew Maggie was probably feeding Joe well, but Hop Sing was convinced that Joe would starve without some of his delicacies. Ben knew there was no way to talk the Chinese cook out of sending the food; it was easier just to agree to take them along.

Ben was buckling the saddlebags closed when Adam and Hoss walked into the house.  He was surprised to see the look of concern on their faces. "What's wrong?" asked Ben.

"Well, Pa, there's nothing exactly wrong," answered Hoss with an uncomfortable look on his face.

"What Hoss means is we saw some strangers over by the line shacks on Willow Ridge," explained Adam. "They were looking around. We think they were Brady's men, looking for Joe."

"What did you do?" asked Ben.

Nothing," Hoss replied. "We watched them for a while and they rode off. We decided we'd better let you know."

Ben nodded in satisfaction. "Good," he said. "If Brady's men are up here checking the line shacks, that means they have no idea where Joe is."

"Yeah, but Pa, how long is it going to take them to figure out Joe's not on the Ponderosa?" said Hoss.

"Probably not much longer," admitted Ben. "But it's Saturday, and the trial starts on Monday. We only have to keep them guessing for another day or so. After that, it'll be too late."

Making sure he was seen, Ben rode through Virginia City slowly. The plan was to ride boldly to Maggie's house, and not to sneak into town. He, Adam and Hoss were convinced that no one would suspect Maggie of hiding Joe if Ben was open about visiting her.
Two hands from the Ponderosa were following Ben once more. Both men were alert, looking for trouble. Adam had made it very clear to them that he would hold them responsible if anything happened to his father.

Stopping his horse in front of the saloon, Ben looked around carefully. The streets of the town seemed quiet as usual. Ben could see nothing which would cause him alarm. "You boys go get a beer," he said over his shoulder to the two ranch hands. "I'll meet you here later."

"No sir, Mr. Cartwright," replied one of the hands. "Adam told us not to let you out of our sight."

"Adam is not the boss," Ben said firmly. "I am. And I will be perfectly all right. You get yourselves a beer."

The two hands looked at each other in confusion. There was no question that Ben Cartwright ran the Ponderosa. But they also took Adam's warning seriously. Finally, one of the them shrugged. "All right, boss," the man said, dismounting. "As along as you explain things to Adam…."

 Ben grinned. "Don't worry. I'll tell Adam you did your job well.”

The men sighed in relief, then grinned. They