Completed April 2001
Chapter 1
"Oh, yeah, this is a bad one for sure!" Little Joe leaned across the desk to hand his brother Hoss a piece of paper. "What do you think? Horse thief, maybe?"
Hoss took the sheet from Joe's outstretched hand and studied it closely, brow furrowing in imitation of the scowling face drawn on the page. "Nah, I'd say this one is probably a stagecoach robber. He looks like the sort of a fella that'd make folks want to hand over all their valuables just by lookin' at 'em."
Joe took back the paper but did not bother scooting all the way back to his own place, instead lying atop the desk on his belly, making it easier to hand his brother another unsavory looking sketch. "Well, what about him? I think this one is a murderer for sure. Probably got hung and that's why this poster is out of circulation."
Hoss nodded. "Could be. He sure looks mean, don't he?"
"Little Joe, you mind getting off my desk before you scatter all my paperwork from here to China?" Roy Coffee took his place behind the sheriff's desk, shooing Hoss Cartwright out of it so he could have his chair back.
Joe grinned at the lawman and carefully levered himself up and off the surface. "Sorry, Roy. We're right though, aren't we? This was a murderer, huh?"
Roy glanced at the old Wanted poster in Joe's hand. "That? Why, heck no, Little Joe. That's Titus Morgan, used to be bank president of the First National in Carson about six or eight years ago until he embezzled money from half the town and skipped out with it. Took us about two months to catch up with him, but he's doing time now. Only thing he ever murdered was his reputation."
Hoss guffawed. "Yessir, little brother, you sure can spot 'em!" He took another look at the poster, and shook his head. "Come to think of it, though, if I had to see that face every time I went to put money in the bank I think I'd start burying my cash in the back yard."
"Sure don't look too friendly, that's for sure," Roy agreed amiably. "You boys want to take some of these with you? Maybe you can come up with a few more theories for me the next time you're in town."
Joe's green eyes lit up with interest. "Could we? You don't want to keep them around for evidence or anything like that?"
Roy scratched thoughtfully at his thinning grayish brown hair, then smiled at the eager face across from him and pushed a small stack of flyers over. "Help yourself, son. These are all old posters that have been out of circulation for some time now cause the fellas on them have been caught or killed. They're just cluttering up my office where they are."
"Gee, thanks!" Joe picked up the small sheaf and began flipping through them. He paused when he got near the bottom of the pile, whistling at the face staring up at him from the artist's rendering. He held it up to show to Roy and Hoss. "Now you can't tell me that this is the face of a bank clerk!"
Roy looked surprised as he took the sheet back. "Now, how did that get in there with those others? This here is Dan Briggs, and he's still a wanted man."
"He sure is a nasty looking piece of business all right." Hoss peered over Roy's shoulder at the poster. "What's he wanted for, Roy? He caused some big trouble for somebody, I'll bet."
"You got that right," Roy agreed emphatically. "Dan Briggs is about the biggest heap of trouble there is from what I hear. He's wanted for cattle rustling and murder. We figure he's robbed and killed his way across a couple of states by now, but we've only got eyewitness testimony for one crime. A while back in Monterey, Briggs hired on with a little outfit, then proceeded to rob them blind. His boss caught him red handed moving out a small herd of steers, and Briggs just pulled out his gun and shot the man and his son down in cold blood. Got clean away with the herd. Only reason we know that much is that the boy didn't die right away and managed to give the sheriff a statement first."
"He ever done anything in Nevada?" Joe asked curiously.
Roy shook his head. "Fortunately, no, but that don't mean he won't, which is why he's on Wanted posters in every town around. He's one mean desperado, and nobody's taking any chances, least of all me."
"Can I still have the poster?" Joe's voice was hopeful, and after a moment's consideration Roy handed it back to him. "Thanks, Sheriff. I want to show Pa. He'll be hiring a crew for the spring round up pretty soon and like you say, no point in taking chances. I'll bring it back next time."
"I've got me about a dozen of them posters, Little Joe," Coffee said with a smile. "Keep it. I'm glad to see you showing a sense of civic responsibility, but I really don't think Dan Briggs will be showing his face around here. He's got to know he's a wanted man."
"Yeah," Hoss agreed. "He's probably moved clear down to Texas by now. They've got them some prime stock and a lot of wide open spaces bound to attract a fella like him."
"S'pose you're right," Joe said, his voice holding a note of disappointment. Hoss and Roy exchanged an amused knowing look that the preoccupied teenager did not see. "Well, we'd best be going. Pa wanted us to pick up supplies at the mercantile before we head home."
"Nice to have you stop by, boys," the sheriff said amiably. "Come back anytime, and tell your Pa I've still got the checkerboard set up in the back whenever he wants to get beat."
The young men chuckled and waved as they departed, calls of 'Sure thing' and 'So long, Roy,' floating behind them.
Roy Coffee straightened up his scattered papers, grinning to himself as he thought about Little Joe's vivid imagination. The boy had loved coming into the jailhouse to visit with the sheriff since he was shorter than the big oak desk he'd just been sprawling across. He'd always been fascinated by the various aspects of catching 'bad guys', though Roy had no illusions of Ben Cartwright's youngest son wanting to follow his footsteps and become a lawman. He was too firmly entrenched in the day to day life on the Ponderosa for that, but he did love to speculate and he'd been volunteering to go on every posse Roy had organized since the day they'd met. It was only now that he'd turned 16 that anyone had even considered it. Joe had gone on his first posse just a couple of months ago after a neighbor had been murdered. The objective had been to find and capture the three suspects without any more blood being shed, but the outlaws had chosen not to go peaceably. One of them had been killed before the men consented to give up, and Joe had come back far more subdued than he'd started. Roy was frankly glad to see it. He worried over that boy's impulsive nature sometimes.
Picking up one of the posters the Cartwright boys had been looking at earlier, the sheriff chuckled. Joe's latest mania was trying to determine what a man was wanted for just by looking at the artist's sketch. As many of the posters had only a name and the amount of the reward written on them, there was plenty of room for speculation. He had so far had only slight success, but Joe was sure that he'd be able to figure it out if he tried hard enough. He'd gotten Hoss started on it not long ago, and now every chance they got, the two were poring over posters and creating fascinating scenarios to go with the pictures. The only problem with that was that Joe was so good at filling in the blanks that he often half believed the stories himself, and naturally Hoss just drank in every word his little brother said like it was gospel truth. Yes sir, that youngster sure could liven up a dull day. Still smiling, Roy got up and tacked a couple of the more recent flyers to his wall.
Chapter 2
"Hey, Hoss? You really think that's true, what Roy said about Desperado Dan moving clean out of the territory?" Little Joe had been thinking about nothing except that most interesting poster for the last hour, as he and his brother had gone to the store, loaded the supplies and started for home.
Hoss shrugged. "I reckon so. No sense in a man sticking around where he's likely to get caught is there?"
A disappointed sigh met the question. "Suppose not. He sure must be powerful ornery though, to just gun two men down in cold blood and get on with his business."
"Reckon so," Hoss agreed, shaking his head. Rather than exciting him, as it did his little brother, Hoss often found himself saddened and dismayed by news of such brutality and coldness in his fellow man. He just could not understand why anyone would want to be that way. "Say, what'd you call that fellow, Joe?"
Joe blinked. "Huh? Oh, you mean 'Desperado Dan'? I thought of that after Roy finished telling us about him. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Sounds a lot more exciting than just plain 'Briggs'."
"If you say so." The older of the two brothers squinted up at the sky and rubbed at his belly. "The only thing that sounds exciting to me right about now is making it home on time for supper. Loading all them supplies has given me a real appetite."
Joe laughed. "Aw, come on, now. You'd have the same amount of appetite if you hadn't lifted anything heavier than your hat all day."
Hoss grinned agreeably. "Maybe so, little brother, but you can't tell me that you ain't looking forward to that pot roast with potatoes and carrots that Hop Sing was planning when we left."
"Yeah, and that beautiful apple pie he was fixing up this morning," Joe agreed, smacking his lips. Hop Sing liked to alternate the favorite meal of each of the four Cartwrights from week to week, ensuring that each man got his favorite at least once every month. It made them happy and kept the compliments flowing, which in turn made Hop Sing happy. Of course, nearly every meal was Hoss' favorite, so he made no objection to whatever appeared on the table. Tonight, it was Little Joe's turn for the meal of honor, and the reminder of that had him urging the horses to go just a little faster as his own stomach began to growl in anticipation.
~*~*~*~*~
"So then, Desperado Dan just whips out his pistol faster than a striking rattler and guns them down in cold blood. They say he was actually whistling as he gathered up the rest of the dead rancher's herd and moved them out of the territory." Joe paused in his recital to lift up a heaping forkful of beef and potatoes and shovel it inside his mouth, then continued talking, unmindful of the grimaces of his family as they watched him chew and chatter at the same time. "He's just about the meanest danged outlaw that's ever lived and Roy wanted me to be sure and show you the poster so we can keep an eye out for him come roundup time."
Hoss' face twitched slightly as he listened to his younger brother's version of their conversation with the sheriff. This was the second time Joe had poured out the exciting tale of Dan Briggs in less than an hour, having first cornered Hop Sing as he was finishing dinner. With each new telling, the story seemed to be gaining more hair-raising detail. He was tempted to contradict when Joe began to reiterate a few points and the size of the stolen herd suddenly doubled, but then he dismissed the idea. It wasn't as if it really mattered, after all. Like Roy had said, Briggs was miles away by this time. Might as well leave Little Joe his fantasy.
"We'll be sure and keep a sharp eye out, son," Ben said seriously, though his dark eyes did twinkle a bit as he said it. He knew very well how his youngest son got when he had his imagination fired up by something. "Thank you for letting us know. Now, finish your meal so Hop Sing can start cleaning up in here, and we'll sample some of that fresh apple pie."
"Yes, sir!" A gleam filled the young man's eye at the reminder of dessert. Joe had been a somewhat picky eater during his childhood, not eating half as much as his father thought he ought to, but ever since he'd gotten well into his adolescence, Joe had become as much of an eating machine as any average teenage boy. Ben had been heard to remark to Adam that watching his two younger sons on opposite sides of a platter of food was like watching two young lions anticipating a kill. Anyone else at the table had better move fast and take as much as they wanted, or they'd be going hungry. Leftovers had become a thing of the past over the last year or so. Hop Sing, of course, was delighted.
Little Joe managed to forget about the adventures of outlaws and thieves for a few minutes as he polished off his dinner and attacked a large slice of pie. The minute he sat down in the living room with the rest of the family, however, he was off and running again.
"Hey, Adam, don't you want to get a look at the poster?" Joe waved the flyer under his oldest brother's nose, earning himself a look of warning as Adam snatched the paper out of his hand.
With greatly exaggerated care, Adam snapped the sheet a couple of times and studied it. Then, he handed it back and said, "There, I've looked. I'm sure that if Dan Briggs ever shows up here looking for a job we'll all be sure to recognize him right away. Now, can we change the subject?"
Joe scowled at his patronizing tone. Ben saw him gearing up for an argument and stepped in before it could start. "Joseph, I'm sure we all appreciate your efforts to keep us informed, and we certainly will stay alert, but I don't think there's any point in worrying about this Briggs character right now."
"But, Pa, supposing he does show up," Joe pressed. "Don't you think we ought to have a plan or something to capture him? You know, for the good of the community?"
Adam snorted a laugh. "The good of the community. Sure, Joe, and I'll bet it'll do them a lot of good to watch you receive a reward and a medal for heroism for saving the good people of Virginia City from the clutches of the evil Desperado Dan."
Choosing to ignore the snide tone, Joe's face took on a dreamy look as he settled back into the corner of the sofa and thought over the delightful possibilities in Adam's scenario. Adam saw it and shook his head, going back to the book he had been trying to read with a mumbled comment about fool kids.
"Tell you what, Joe." Hoss' voice jerked Joe back from his daydreams. "If'n we do come across him, you can be the one to ride into Virginia City and grab the sheriff. That way he'll be sure to know you were the one who spread the word and saved everybody."
Ben smothered a chuckle as he saw his youngest son's face light up. No doubt Joe was already picturing himself in the center of a throng of grateful citizens, modestly recalling how he'd captured the nefarious outlaw. What he did not seem to realize was that Hoss had very neatly suggested a plan that would keep his little brother out of danger's path should his imaginings ever come to light. Knowing how quickly Joe's interests could change from week to week, Ben felt relatively certain that the boy would forget all about Dan Briggs by the time a crew was hired for roundup. Joe came back to earth with a sigh. "I'll bet I could catch him if I really tried. I'm not afraid."
"Don't you think you have more important things to do than chase after outlaws, son?" Ben asked with a smile, used to his little boy's delusions of grandeur. "You'll be pretty busy getting ready for your first cattle drive as soon as the herd is fully rounded up."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Joe agreed cheerfully. He was quite proud to be going along on the drive this year. In his eyes it made him a man the same as his father and brothers, and he was not inclined to let anyone overlook that fact.
Silence reigned for a good ten minutes as Ben and Adam both read, and Joe and Hoss played checkers together. Then Joe's attention faded from the game as he spotted Hop Sing straightening up the dining room. An eager gleam filled his eyes as he stood from his cross legged position on the coffee table and walked toward the dining room.
"Hey, Little Joe, where you going?" Hoss blurted unhappily as Joe's motion upset the checkerboard. "I was winning!"
Joe barely paused long enough to shoot him an apologetic glance. "I'm going to see if I can get Hop Sing to give me some cookies."
Hoss forgot his ire and broke into a smile, falling into step behind his little brother. Ben shook his head, meeting Adam's amused look with an exasperated one of his own. "It's only been twenty minutes since we ate! How can those two be hungry again?"
"What are you complaining about, Pa?" Adam asked with a chuckle. "At least the prospect of food has dissuaded them from the idea of going out looking to catch rustlers in the dead of night."
Ben laughed. "Well, I'm sure something would have sooner or later. By this time tomorrow, I'm sure everyone will have forgotten all about the exploits of Desperado Dan."
Unfortunately, Ben Cartwright had underestimated both his son's stubborn will and the hand of fate.
Chapter 3
"So, what else did he do, Joe?"
Little Joe puffed up importantly at the interested question from the ranch hand on his left. He was sitting atop the corral fence, where he had been holding court for the last half-hour over the gathering of men his father had recently hired for roundup. Supposedly, he was there to help them work on a new string of horses his father wanted broken and gentled in time to use for remounts on next month's cattle drive, but so far nobody was doing a whole lot of work.
Another man spoke up. "Yeah, Joe. Is it true what I hear, that Desperado Dan backed down a whole posse who was on his tail and got clean away without firing a single shot?"
Joe did not recall ever having said anything of the kind, but it sounded good, just like something Dan would do, so he nodded solemnly. "Sure is. Why he's escaped so many gunfights and dates with the hangman by now that lawmen practically swear he's magic. They say no mortal man could steal that many cattle and horses in a lifetime. At least not without getting caught."
"I hear tell he's pretty slick with the ladies, too," the first cowboy, Rusty, said sagely, exchanging leering looks with the others. "Guess he knows more than just about anyone what a gal really wants, and he ain't afraid to give it to her neither!"
The men roared with laughter over his lascivious tone, elbowing each other knowingly. Joe laughed along with them. He was not at all sure what Rusty was talking about, but he wasn't about to admit his ignorance by asking anyone. They'd think he was just a wet-behind-the-ears kid if he did that! The fact that he was exactly that did not enter into his mind at all.
"Hey, what's going on here?" Hoss' voice loudly interrupted the playful banter and increasingly off-color remarks the wranglers were passing back and forth. Joe scowled at his older brother. Pa never allowed him to hear that kind of stuff, and Hoss had gone and ruined it just as things were getting good. Hoss knew exactly what he was doing by cutting in when he had, and showed it by giving Little Joe a scolding shake of his head. "Ain't nobody declared no holiday around here, far as I know. Let's get back to work!"
The men went back to their jobs with a good-natured grumble, and Little Joe hopped down off the fence to stand beside his brother. "What'd you have to do that for, Hoss? We were just having a little fun."
"Well, you can just have your fun after the work gets done, Shortshanks. What were you fellas all laughing about anyhow?" Hoss leaned against the fence to watch the men in the corral work a bad tempered roan mare into obedience, and Joe imitated his posture, leaning forward to rest his arms across the top fence rail.
Hoss called encouragement to the rider in the stubborn roan's saddle. "At a boy, Jimmy!"
Little Joe shrilly whistled his approval as Jimmy rode the horse to a standstill, then turned back to answer his brother's question. "Rusty was talking about Desperado Dan's way with women. He sure is something, ain't he? Never met a woman he couldn't charm, a poker game he couldn't win, or a man he couldn't back down with a look or a gun."
Hoss nodded admiringly. "Yeah, he's a powerful talented feller all right. Mean as a snake one minute and charming as an Eastern dude the next. I sure had no idea when you first got that poster from Roy that so many folks knew all about him, or that he'd done so many things."
A small pang of discomfort stabbed at Little Joe and he absent-mindedly rubbed his stomach, vaguely supposing it to be indigestion or something. If he had bothered to analyze the feeling closely, he might have recognized it as the scolding of his conscience, but that was a thing he had long since learned to suppress when it got in the way of a good time.
Joe had told everyone he knew all about the exploits of Dan Briggs, blithely expanding the story with each telling, and growing more and more convincing each time due to the fact that he had begun to believe it all himself. Those people had told other people, who had told still more, until now everyone in the whole territory seemed to know the story. Desperado Dan had become a local legend inside of a month's time. Little Joe could no longer remember which facts he had heard from Roy and which ones he had made up himself. The fact that other people claimed to have heard the stories and often added new and interesting details only fueled his belief. Everyone far and wide was caught up in the legend, including Hoss. He seemed to have completely forgotten that he'd been with his brother the day he'd picked up that wanted poster, and was halfway convinced that he'd actually seen Briggs someplace one time, if he could only remember where it had been.
"Do you think all that stuff they say about Dan is really real?" the boy wondered aloud. "It seems like he's been an awful lot of places and done an awful lot of bad things for just one man."
"I dunno," Hoss said, shrugging the question off. "If he's as crafty as they say, maybe he's got a whole gang that works with him and they just use his name to scare folks."
"Maybe." That sounded like a good idea, so Joe automatically filed it away to add to his store of knowledge on the outlaw. "You suppose he'll ever get one of those dime novels written about him? Bet it would sell a million copies."
Hoss laughed. "That's silly, Joe. There ain't enough folks around to buy up a million copies of anything. Besides, I think you have to be dead or near to it before they write one of them things about you."
Joe frowned. "Why?"
"I suppose it's so you can't make a big fuss if the writer gets one of the facts wrong," Hoss decided. That sounded like a good reason to him. "That's enough about that for now, little brother. Let's see you get yourself up on that chestnut and give him a try."
With a cheery grin, Joe dismissed their speculations from his mind and went to do his other most favorite thing in the world.
~*~*~*~*~
The entire hubbub over Desperado Dan would likely have died out in good time had it not been for a badly timed outbreak of rustling in the area. The local paper had run a front-page story on the thefts, with a reprint of the wanted poster of Briggs in bold ink in the corner. Gossip had been claiming for weeks that he had been spotted heading for Virginia City and the coincidence was too much for most people. Ben Cartwright reminded himself sternly at least once per day that he had never even heard of Dan Briggs until his sons had mentioned him. Still, it was hard to ignore the general opinion of his neighbors.
"Hey, Pa! Pa?" Adam's voice called loudly from the front entry, bringing his father hurrying downstairs, a look of concern upon his face.
"What's the matter, son?" There was no mistaking the urgency in Adam's call.
Adam's face was grim. "We just did a complete survey of the south pasture, two sweeps so there'd be no mistake. We're missing fifty head of our best cattle. Up to now I thought Joe's theories about Dan Briggs were just so much fairy dust and nonsense, but now I'm starting to wonder."
Ben tried to be reasonable. "Now, son, just because we've got rustlers on our hands, doesn't mean this has anything to do with Briggs." Still Ben was not so sure. It seemed like an awfully big coincidence, and certainly it seemed that a lot of people had heard the same stories Joe had been spouting, so surely there was some truth to them. "We'd better go talk to Roy Coffee about this right away."
~*~*~*~*~
"Now Ben, just hold on a minute," Roy said calmly. "You're the fifth rancher in these parts to have their cattle rustled in the last two weeks. So far we ain't found a trace of the thieves, but we will. There's no need to go stirring up trouble over a rumor."
Ben's heavy brows lowered unhappily. "Roy, it was not a rumor that stole 50 head of cattle off my property this morning. Someone is out there helping himself to our prime stock and I want it stopped! I'm not saying that there's any truth to these rumors about Desperado Dan, or whatever fool name he calls himself, but the fact remains that he was reported to be in this area, and immediately afterward, cattle began to disappear."
"I know that Ben," Roy said, his voice calm in an effort to get his old friend to simmer down. "I've heard all the talk, same as you have, but the fact is, that's all it's been up to now. Talk! I can hardly form a posse to go chasing down an outlaw nobody has actually seen. Supposing it's somebody else who's just using all this speculation to throw off suspicion and pick your land clean while we're all off on a wild goose chase looking for this fella Briggs?"
Ben responded to the reasonability of the sheriff's argument and nodded grimly. "You're right. I guess I've gotten just as caught up in my youngest son's absolute certainty of the rustler's identity as everyone else has."
Roy nodded. "Funny thing about that. I hadn't heard anything about Briggs in a couple of months. Then Joe starts askin' me about him and pretty soon it seems like I'm not hearing anything else!"
"Timing, I guess," Ben said. "Just a coincidence." His expression darkened for a moment as he thought about just how much of a coincidence it really was. Then Ben abruptly dismissed his suspicions. Not even Little Joe's imagination could run away with an entire town!
Chapter 4
"What in blazes do you two think you are doing?"
Hoss and Little Joe froze in the doorway, identical guilty expressions on their faces as they beheld their irate father standing in the entry waiting for them; arms crossed and steam practically curling out of his ears.
"Oh, uh, hi Pa," Hoss stammered, trying to smile. "What are you doing up this early?"
"We were j-just in the barn, Pa," Little Joe tried, "brushing d-down the horses."
"Really?" That one word question, spoken in an all too calm and quiet tone made both young men jump. "And were you perhaps combing those horses at 3:30 in the morning because you'd had them out all night long searching lord only knows where for rustlers?"
Joe blinked innocently. "Rustlers? W-why would we do that, Pa? You told us to leave the r-rustlers to the sheriff."
"Well, it's nice to know you were actually listening to me, Joseph," his father snapped, pinning him in place with a glare. "It would have been even nicer if you had done as I said!"
Hoss tried to divert some of the attention from his quaking sibling, and said, "Well, Pa, it's like this. Y'see we was just. Uh, that is we thought that."
Ben held up a hand, cutting him off mid-word. "Never mind what you thought. The point is you disobeyed. I very clearly told you, both of you, the last time you went out on one of these little odysseys of yours that I did not want you trying to do Roy's job for him! It's very dangerous, not to mention foolhardy. I appreciate the fact that you want to help stop the rustling, but getting yourselves killed will not accomplish anything. If you see anything suspicious, you are to come to me or report it to the sheriff, and that is all you are to do. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," they mumbled in unison.
The sporadic disappearance of more cattle in the weeks since he had first gone to Roy did nothing to sweeten the disposition of Ben Cartwright or his neighbors. By the time they had pulled together what was left of their herds, more than 200 cattle had disappeared from the area. It was not the thought of losing money that irritated Ben the most; he had a good-sized herd and had not intended to drive more than a third of them to market at this time anyway. It was the principal of the thing, the idea that someone could sneak in and do that much damage without a trace. He had quite enough problems without dealing with two sons who were hell-bent on putting themselves in danger to catch the thieves.
Joe, of course, did not see it that way. He was absolutely certain he knew who had stolen the livestock. He had been secretly on the lookout ever since the first theft, and he was not ready to give up, no matter what anyone said. A posse had been organized in town to comb the area in search of any new evidence, and Joe felt it supremely unfair that he was not allowed to join the manhunt for Desperado Dan, particularly since it was his idea in the first place. Was it his fault that the last two times he had obeyed his father and pointed out suspicious behavior, the men turned out to be innocent? The fact that the second man, whom he and Hoss had captured yesterday morning, the one who had looked like a mean, ornery murdering thief for sure, had turned out to be the sheriff's own visiting nephew was not his fault either. No one had bothered to mention that Roy even HAD a nephew, much less that he was visiting! They hadn't needed to laugh when Hoss and Joe had captured the stranger lurking around the border of the Ponderosa, and had dragged him into town bound and gagged and delivered him to the sheriff. Roy's nephew had laughed louder than anybody else when he found out that he'd been mistaken for a famous outlaw, and had been very forgiving, but it was still humiliating to have been so mistaken. How was he supposed to know that Roy's own kin didn't have the sense to know which way was north and had taken the wrong fork on his way to Virginia City? Too bad Pa hadn't thought it was funny.
"I'm sorry we disobeyed, Pa," he tried, flashing his glowering father a winning smile, "but we had to go after it got dark. I think that's when the herds are getting stolen. I told Roy that and he said there was nothing the posse could do in the dark, but I figured if the rustlers could work at night, so could we."
Ben rubbed his forehead, as if he had a headache coming on. "And you couldn't have explained that logic to Roy and I? It's certainly within the reach of your persuasive powers, Joseph. Roy's men could have staked a few places out and captured the outlaws perfectly well without your help."
"But then we wouldn't get any of the reward money!" Joe squawked. Hoss placed a warning hand on his arm, but it was too late. The words were already out.
"Oh, really." The quiet tone was back, and the Cartwright boys knew they were doomed.
~*~*~*~*~
Nearly an hour later, both Hoss and Joe slunk to their rooms, having received one of the longest lectures of their lives. Pa's anger had not been a pretty thing to witness. It seemed as though the more he scolded, the more hopping mad he got. He had ranted for a solid 45 minutes, then he had ordered them both out of his sight, and had assigned them a handful of extra chores designed to keep them too busy for hunting outlaws over the next several days. Night stalking being decidedly not on the agenda for a while, it was time to think of a new plan...
Chapter 5
"Hey, Hoss, did you hear the news?" Joe came charging up at a full gallop to where his brother was mending fences, skidding his horse to a halt so suddenly that he kicked up a cloud of dust right in Hoss' face.
"Little Joe, how many times we told you not to do that?" Hoss demanded, spitting and waving his hands to dispel the dust. "What's the matter with you?"
"I just came from Virginia City, and you'll never believe it! Pa let me go into town to get the mail, even though he told us last night that he didn't want us anywhere near Roy's office for a while. I was kind of surprised when he sent me, but I guess he didn't have time to go himself, and I think he kind of felt bad about all the yelling he did last night or something, but anyway, I was in town and I ran into Seth. Seth had just talked to Steve, who had just come from Roy's office, and you'll never guess what they said." Joe was talking so fast; Hoss could barely keep up. He did not bother trying to interrupt with a guess, knowing his brother would just keep talking until he'd revealed it anyway. He was correct. "The posse didn't find anything, and the people are so upset about it that they held a meeting. The reward for the capture of Desperado Dan has gone up to two THOUSAND dollars! Did you ever hear the like?"
Hoss whistled, his blue eyes going wide as he took in the incredible sum. "What happened, Joe? Did somebody see him, finally?"
"I don't know, but from what I heard the ranchers are so mad about what's been going on, they demanded a raise in the bounty and put up the money themselves!" Joe took another longing look at the now worn and crumpled wanted poster he'd just pulled out of his saddlebag. "That sure is a lot of money. Just think of all the things we could do with it, not to mention how impressed everyone would be if we brought him in."
"Wait a minute, there. You just leave me out of this!" Hoss narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Weren't you listening to a single word Pa said last night? We promised him we was gonna give up this foolishness, remember?"
Joe waved his protest away. "Aw, come on, Hoss. This is different! We won't have to worry about what Pa says. He's gonna be away on the drive in two days."
Hoss blinked, uncertain he'd heard correctly. "What about you, Little Joe? You ain't talked about nothing else but going on your first big cattle drive since you was just a bit of a thing, and as far as I remember, Pa didn't say anything to you last night about being restricted to home. Don't you want to go no more?"
"Well, sure I do, " he said regretfully. "It's awful unfair that I can't be in both places at the same time, but this is more important. I'm just gonna have to tell Pa that I've decided to stay behind and help you instead of going with him."
"And you think he'll let you do that?" Hoss laughed. "I'm staying home cause somebody's got to be in charge of the ranch while Pa and Adam are gone, but you ain't gonna fool Pa into thinking you've suddenly become too fond of the sight of the ranch to be away from it for a couple of weeks. He knows how crazy you are to get the drop on that outlaw feller."
"But, Hoss!" Little Joe began, pulling out his best wheedling tone. "You need me!"
Hoss was having none of it. "No, I don't. Not that bad, I don't. The only way you're gonna convince Pa to let you stay home is if you're too sick to leave the house, and if you're that poorly you know what he'll do, don't you? He'll send me on ahead with Adam, and stay behind to look after you. I'm sorry, little buddy, but Desperado Dan will just have to put up with being caught by somebody other than you. You're going on that cattle drive!"
"But Hoss, two thousand dollars!" Joe tried again.
Hoss eyed the poster in his brother's hand with a long tempted gaze, and Little Joe's face took on an expression of hope, but then the big man shook his head and took the paper, crumpling it up into a ball and tossing it back, effectively squelching his brother's enthusiasm. He then, very deliberately, picked up the hammer he had dropped when Joe came charging up to him, and returned to rebuilding the section of broken fence he'd been working on without another word. Secretly, he was afraid that if he kept listening to his persuasive little brother, he'd find himself volunteering to go along with another one of his crazy schemes. One blistering lecture in a week was enough! Hoss had no desire for another and knew that the best thing to do now was feign disinterest.
Joe spent a few minutes watching him work, scowling darkly at his uncooperative sibling in hopes that he would see how much his traitorous behavior had wounded him. Hoss continued to ignore him, and finally, Little Joe sighed and picked up the spare hammer lying in the grass.
Chapter 6
"Well, sir, I've been working on ranches all my life, in one place or another. The last was the Triple J up by Placerville. They had some hard times and had to let most of us go, and I've been looking for work ever since." The cowboy finished his speech in a rush, shuffling warily, as though he had delivered it many times and was already prepared to be turned down and start moving again.
Ben nodded thoughtfully. He knew of the Triple J, and knew that they had indeed fallen on hard times, just as the young drifter had said. He had a full crew for the drive by now, but figured there might be a few jobs around the ranch that could use an extra hand. "We might be able to use you," he said slowly. "What did you say your name was again?"
"Daniel, sir, Daniel Freeman," the man offered eagerly, perking up a bit at the news that he might be allowed to stay. "I can do most anything you need, Mr. Cartwright. Rope, brand, ride fence, chop wood, anything at all!"
The hasty offer was met with an understanding smile. Ben had found himself in this young man's shoes a few times in his life. Willing to do anything that needed doing, so long as it was a real job and not a hand out. "The fences out in the south pasture are in pretty bad shape. We've been fixing them up whenever we get a little free time, but there's still a lot to do. How about we start you out there and see how things go?"
"That'd be just fine," Freeman agreed gratefully. "When do I start?"
"Tomorrow morning," Ben told him, shaking his newest employee's hand. They spent a few minutes talking over necessary things like salary, working hours and where Daniel could stow his gear, and then Ben offered a warning he'd issued to every man on his payroll as of late. "You should know that we've had a rash of rustling in the area lately, so if you come across anything you feel is suspicious, let one of us know right away. Don't try to confront anyone on your own."
"No, sir, I won't," Freeman promised, tipping his hat as he grabbed his gear and went back outside to put his things in the bunkhouse.
"Hey, Pa, who was that?" Joe had been listening to part of his father's conversation from the stair landing, and he had been checking out the new man with the same suspicious eyes with which he viewed all strangers these days.
Ben looked up from his desk and smiled as his son approached. "New man I just hired. He's going to fix that line of busted fence in the south."
Joe frowned. "Kind of late in the day to be coming looking for work, isn't it? It's almost quitting time."
"I suppose so," Ben said, "but he seems like a good man, and he needs the work. Now, why don't you ride out and find your brothers. Supper will be ready in an hour."
"Okay," he agreed. Joe stayed where he was for a moment longer, craning his neck to see what name his father had written on the payroll column, then moved out quickly when Ben raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll just go find Hoss and Adam. See you later, Pa."
Ben watched him go with a shake of his head. Sometime he just didn't know about that boy.
~*~*~*~*~
"It's him, I'm telling you!" Joe raised his hands in an imploring gesture as he trailed his two disinterested brothers into the barn. "I got a real good look at him while Pa was hiring him on, and I'd bet my bottom dollar that it was him."
"Joe, will you come off it?" Adam demanded grumpily. He'd had a long hard day in the saddle and was in no mood to hear his younger brother's newest selection for the role of the mysterious Desperado Dan. "You've been seeing that outlaw behind every rock and bush for weeks now, and frankly I'm tired of it! If Dan Briggs was going to come looking to steal any more cattle from us, do you really think he'd be stupid enough to walk right up to his intended victims in broad daylight and demand a job from them?"
"Adam's right, Joe," Hoss told him, as he stripped the tack from his horse and began to brush the big black down. "Ain't no more cattle disappeared in days, and now that everyone is on to him, don't you think Desperado Dan has probably moved on to fresh territory?"
"Maybe that's just what he wants us to think," Joe said, lowering his voice as though one of the horses might overhear and spread the word. "I think Dan is just biding his time until the Ponderosa is undefended. Pa isn't moving out more than a few hundred head this time of year and that leaves an awful lot of prime stock that's going to be easy pickings. What better way to divert suspicion than to hire on as a new worker, especially doing something as remote as line riding?"
Adam and Hoss looked at each other, both silently asking each other if the kid could be right. It did sound like an awfully clever plan when Joe mapped it all out that way. Hoss laughed, but the sound was just a bit hollow. "That's silly, Joe. This fella is probably just doing what he told Pa. Looking for work to tide him over. Not a lot of ranches would be hiring right now, since the roundup crews are all on board. He just came here cause there was no place else. Besides, you said his name was Freeman."
Though he had not fully swallowed his youngest brother's latest theory, Adam could not help chuckling over Hoss' argument. "Well, if I was a famous outlaw and I was infiltrating someplace, I'd probably use another name, just to be safe. I sure wouldn't walk right up to Pa and say, "Hi there, Mr. Cartwright. My name is Dan Briggs. Perhaps you know me better as Desperado Dan? I'm rustling cattle in the area and wondered if you'd like to make a donation."
Joe and Hoss both laughed at Adam's dead-on imitation of the solicitors who were always approaching their father hoping for charitable donations to one 'very-worthy' cause or another.
"Maybe you're right about that," Hoss conceded "but what makes you so sure the fella Pa just hired is Dan?"
"All you gotta do is take a good look at him," Little Joe begged. "He don't look exactly like that poster, but nobody ever does look exactly like the artist draws them. Remember Jim Blevins?"
Adam shook his head a bit as he fed and watered both tired horses. "I thought there must have been a mistake when I compared the man Roy arrested with that poster you'd shown me, Joe. Worst artist's rendering I've ever seen."
"That's right, and I'm telling you, this man Freeman, is a much closer match," Joe insisted. "All I'm asking you to do is come up with some excuse to talk to one of the men in the bunkhouse and get a look for yourselves. If you still think I'm crazy after you've seen him, I promise I'll drop it without another word."
Adam looked closely at his little brother's earnest face and nodded slowly. "I guess that's not too much to ask, considering what's at stake here, but you have to promise to abide by our decision. If Hoss and I don't see the resemblance, you'll let it be. Promise?"
Joe grinned, clapping them both on the back as they headed for the barn doors. "I promise!"
~*~*~*~*~
"Well?" Joe demanded intently, staring at the two men sitting on the sofa from his vantagepoint atop the coffee table. "You went out to talk to the men about the drive, so that means you had plenty of time. Did you see him?"
Joe had been dying to ask them for their verdict all evening, but after dinner Pa had gotten into one of his rare story telling moods, where he would begin reminiscing about his youth. Usually, the boys found those times interesting, as their father had led a very adventurous life and had many good tales to share, but sometimes the stories were pure torture. Tonight was one of the latter; however, there was no getting away from him in those moods, so Joe had done his best to sit patiently and listen. Finally, Ben had wound down and declared the need to get some rest. He had gone to bed and his youngest son had pretended to do the same. The moment he heard Pa's door close, however, Joe was out of bed and back downstairs like a shot.
Adam shifted in his seat, reluctant to answer the question. He looked at Hoss and saw no help coming from there. The younger man had an expectant expression on his face that was very like the one Little Joe was aiming at him. "I suppose there is something of a resemblance," he admitted at last.
Little Joe whooped, then clapped a hand over his mouth and looked nervously toward the stairs when both of his brothers instantly shushed him. There was no sound from upstairs to indicate that their father had been disturbed, and all three breathed sighs of relief. Joe lowered his voice, but his eyes were shining with excitement. "What did I tell you?"
Holding up a forbearing hand, Adam said, "Hold it. All I said is that there's a resemblance. I did not say that our newest ranch hand is really Desperado Dan."
"But, Adam, I saw just as plain as you did the way that feller's attention got real sharp all of a sudden when you mentioned where you wanted the rest of the cattle moved until you get back from the drive," Hoss protested.
Adam looked annoyed at Hoss' words. Joe looked confused. "Why did you do that, Adam? Isn't it kinda risky to tell him exactly where to find more of our stock to steal?"
"Maybe," he said tersely, shaking his head at Hoss for revealing what he had done in front of their eagerly listening little brother. "It was a calculated risk, designed to see if anyone took any more interest than they should."
"And Freeman did?" Joe looked back and forth between his brothers.
Hoss grinned, ignoring Adam's sour expression. He knew perfectly well that Adam had not wanted to add any unnecessary fuel to fire Joe's imagination, but dadburnit, the kid deserved to know! "He sure did. We both pretended not to notice, but he was drinking in every word we said."
Little Joe drew himself up, proud to have been the first person to notice the truth. "So, what do we do now? Do you think we ought to tell Pa and Roy?"
"No," Adam said, surprising both his siblings. He saw their disbelieving looks and explained. "Freeman hasn't done anything worse than listen to what I had to say. He's supposed to do that, remember? Just because he was interested in what we planned to do with those cattle doesn't make him a rustler."
"I guess not," Hoss acknowledged reluctantly. "Come to think of it, a few of the other fellas looked pretty interested too. Dadburn, I was sure we had Desperado Dan right where we wanted him."
Joe's mouth had dropped open as he listened to his brother talk himself out of pursuing their new information. "Hoss, come on! We do. All we gotta do is stake those cattle out wherever Adam said, then keep a watch out and see if Dan takes the bait."
"And what if he doesn't?" Adam asked him patiently. "What if he waits until we're gone to make his move. I know I would. Hoss is going to be too busy to spend all his days staking out the north rim, waiting for something that may never happen. Joe, we did as we promised. We took a look at the drifter Pa hired, and we admitted that he does bear some similarity to that wanted poster of yours, but not enough to go making accusations that would probably just get an innocent man in trouble. I'm sorry, Joe. I think you're wrong about him."
"Hoss?" Joe's tone was pleading. Surely Hoss would still be on his side!
The big man shook his head. "Sorry, little brother. I guess I was about to let my heart rule my head again. Adam's right. We can't ruin a man's life just because he looks a little bit like that poster. I don't think it's him."
"You promised you would let this drop," Adam reminded him, when Joe began to utter more protest. "You said that if Hoss and I didn't agree that Dan Freeman and Dan Briggs were the same man, that you would go along with our judgment and not say another word about it."
With Adam's unflinching eyes boring into him, Little Joe was forced to agree. Unfortunately, he had said exactly that. He slumped down, resting his chin in his palm dejectedly. "All right. I won't say anything else about it," he mumbled.
Adam clapped him on the shoulder, his touch revealing more sympathy than Joe had expected. "You did the right thing by coming to us first, Joe. Now, why don't you forget about catching Dan for a while and go get some sleep. Go dream about all the things we'll do together on the drive instead, okay?"
Little Joe lifted his downcast eyes to Adam's face and smiled a little in response to the encouraging smile his dark-haired brother was giving him. "Can I at least help the men move the rest of the cattle to the north rim, tomorrow? I want to make sure it's a good safe place."
Adam chuckled. "You don't give up, do you? All right, you can help out, but let's let the subject of Desperado Dan drop, okay?"
The boy nodded and uncurled his legs from under him as he got off the coffee table. "See you in the morning," he said, then turned away and trudged up the stairs to bed without another word.
Hoss waited until he heard the door to Joe's room close, then looked back at his older brother. "Adam, do you really think there's nothing to Joe's theory about Freeman?"
"I don't know, but I think the man deserves the benefit of the doubt," Adam said reasonably. "I'll ask Mike to help him out on those fences, though, just to keep an eye on him. It wouldn't hurt to be careful, and those fences are more of a two-man job anyway."
Hoss was satisfied with that. Mike was an older man who had been hiring on for roundup season for the last 15 years. He was really too old for the long hard journey to the cattle markets now, and he had a bum leg that made riding herd hard on him, but Ben felt that he could not turn away such a loyal worker and had given him the job again anyway. It wouldn’t be too hard to convince either man to leave Mike behind to help out, Hoss decided. "That's a good idea. Well, I'm for bed. How about you?"
"Me too," Adam said, stretching as he stood. He grinned at Hoss as he glanced up at the stairs. "He sure does keep life interesting, doesn't he?"
There was no need to ask whom Adam meant. Hoss laughed. "He sure does."
Chapter 7
The hand of fate took an unexpected interest in Little Joe Cartwright the next day. He spent all of the afternoon following his conversation with his brothers, moving cattle to a protected area low on the north rim of the Ponderosa. It would be a good spot for them. The animals would have water, good grazing enough for a couple of weeks and shelter from any bad weather that might arise. Joe was therefore rather surprised to see how low the grass and water in that area were, when he and the drovers arrived with the bulk of the herd. The area would do for a few days, but then the cattle would need to be moved again.
After a certain amount of discussion, Joe decided that the best thing to do would be to inform his brother Hoss later. Hoss could decide where he wanted the cattle moved while the rest of the family was off on the drive. The rest of the men seemed happy with that solution, so Joe offered to check around for any strays and get them in with the others, while the rest of the men went back to work. It was a suggestion gratefully accepted by the busy wranglers, and Joe soon found himself alone, with lots of time to himself to lie in wait and watch for rustlers. He did make a cursory check for strays first, but then he tied up Cochise and hunkered down on a bluff overlooking the herd to wait.
Nervously expecting to be set upon by rustlers any second, Joe was tense and highly alert at first, but as time wore on and nothing more dangerous than ragweed came by to attack him, Joe's sharp attention wandered. Joe stayed where he was, trying his best to keep quiet and not sneeze in case the outlaws were nearby, but soon he began to grow sleepy, finally drifting into sleep in the tall sunwarmed grass.
The sunny day grew cool and cloudy as the boy napped, and his first awareness of it came with the soaking of raindrops into his hair and clothing. Joe blinked in confusion, then scrambled to his feet in alarm as he realized that hours had passed while he slept and that it was moving on toward dusk. Joe untied his horse, ready to swing into the saddle and get home out of the rain. His mind was changed very suddenly by the unexpected click of a gun hammer being pulled back directly behind his head.
"Look what we have here," a voice said coldly. "A little spy. Thought it was time to run home and report us to your Pa, did you, boy?"
Joe gulped and put his hands up at his sides. His gaze strayed down to the herd and Joe nearly groaned out loud when he saw that a discernible gap had been made in their number while he, their erstwhile guard, had happily slumbered the day away. "You won't get away with this," he said, hoping he sounded brave and menacing, but fearing that he probably sounded more like the scared kid he really was. "I told my brothers you'd try to steal this herd and they'll come looking for me here."
A second voice laughed unpleasantly. "I doubt that, son. I told your brother Adam that you'd volunteered to help us get those fences started. They think you're a long way from here."
Joe spun around with a gasp, not even considering that it might be a bad idea until three more guns clicked into readiness, obviously thinking the boy had a sidearm hidden and was going to use it. He froze, eyes going wide as he took in the unfriendly faces surrounding him. "Mike?" he squeaked, identifying the man whom had spoken last. "You're one of the rustlers? But how could you be? You've been coming to work for us ever since I can remember." His eyes strayed to the others, his heart aching a little bit more with every recognizable face. Frank had been coming to the Ponderosa at roundup time for nearly as many years as old Mike. The other two, Bert and Jimmy, had been working on the Ponderosa for the last six months. He had thought of them as loyal, hardworking men, and what was far worse, as friends.
Frank's eyes were cold and unsympathetic as he looked at the distraught boy. "We don't owe you or your Pa anything at all, boy. Why should we slave for the chicken shit wage he gives us, when there's so many easier ways to make money? You folks just provided us a nice place to stay while we took turns picking off a few of these prime beeves from all your neighbors."
Little Joe felt sick. He understood immediately what the man meant. The reason no one had been able to find the rustlers was that a different man would do the job each time, just a few cattle at a stretch, so that even if one of them was spotted, he would have a valid alibi the next time a herd disappeared. "What did you do with them?" he couldn't help asking.
Jimmy and Bert both started laughing at the question. "You're so smart, little man. You tell us," Jimmy said. "We been listening to your stories about that wanted desperado for the last month, so I figure you must already know the answer." He winked broadly at Bert. "Course, we did sort of help you liven those stories up just a little bit to get everyone looking the other way."
The tightening in the pit of Joe's stomach got worse. He suddenly remembered all the times he had chattered away to these men about Desperado Dan, embellishing the story over and over to make it more interesting. When had he lost control of them and started adding in details the cowboys provided for him? Little Joe's face went pale as he recognized the truth. He had actually provided cover for the real rustlers to rob everyone in the area blind, by distracting his family and neighbors with what was essentially just a pack of lies! A soft moan was his only answer, and the outlaws roared with amusement at the small stricken sound. Joe's gaze drifted back down to what remained of the cattle and he realized that he did, in fact, have the answer to his question of a moment ago. "You've been moving all the stolen cattle right here, haven't you?" he blurted out. "That's why the grazing is so worn out!"
The faces of the men darkened. It was one thing to tease this kid with the knowledge, it was another to have him piece everything together. "What should we do with him, Mike?" Bert asked, grabbing Joe by the shirt collar, so tight he nearly choked.
Mike stared at Joe coldly. "We can't ransom him back to his Pa if we want to get away with all those cattle, especially since he can identify all of us. I can't just kill him, either. I might be a lot of things, but a child killer, I ain't." Little Joe relaxed a little at hearing him say that. He had been afraid the rustlers would do exactly that to keep him quiet. Then he tensed again as Mike said, "I reckon we'll have to keep him with us for a while."
Frank scowled. "I don't like it. Kidnapping is risky, and the minute Cartwright notices his boy is gone, he ain't gonna have far to look to figure out who's missing from his pay roster."
"He doesn't have to know it's us," Jimmy offered. "All we need to do is stash the kid for a while and go back to the bunkhouse. Cartwright can't afford not to start that cattle drive on time. Even if he stays behind to search for Joe, you can just help him look in all the wrong places. Then Bert and I can get caught drinking on the job, Adam will fire us, and we can meet you two back here, smuggle the kid out and nobody will ever be the wiser."
Mike thought it over; nodding slowly as the plan began to appeal to him. "That just might work."
Bert repeated his earlier question a bit more forcefully. "What do we do with him after we get away? You don't want to kill him, you don't want to let him go, and you don't want to ransom him. So, what does that leave? We can't just drag him along with us from here on out!"
"Why don't you let me take care of that?" Frank said, smiling coldly at Joe. "If he was to run away from home to try and collect the bounty on a certain notorious rustler, Little Joe just might have himself an accident. It wouldn't be your fault if the kid was to get himself shot in a fair gunfight, now would it, Mike?"
Mike smiled. "Guess it wouldn't, at that. Better wait until we're far out of this territory, though. I hear tell old Desperado Dan likes Arizona this time of year. Reckon we can hang onto the boy for a couple of weeks?"
Frank grinned. "Shouldn't be too tough."
Jimmy rummaged in Joe's saddlebags, coming up with an old handgun, the one his father permitted him to carry just to signal for help if need be. Joe wished desperately that he'd had time to use it. Though he was proficient with a sidearm, Ben Cartwright did not consider his youngest son old enough to wear a gunbelt yet, so that old pistol was all the protection he had. Jimmy tossed the gun to Frank and pulled away the rope that had been neatly curled over Joe's saddle horn. Little Joe was hoisted up into Cochise's saddle and the gang used the rope to tie his hands tightly to the saddle horn, looping an extra length of it beneath the horse's belly to tie Joe's feet together. Evidently they were taking no chances. Little Joe looked down at the four grinning faces, his heart sinking lower by the second. Why hadn't he listened when his father told him to leave this whole mess to the law? What was he supposed to do now?
Chapter 8
Little Joe soon found himself right where he had dreamed of being for weeks on end, the middle of the rustler's secret hideout. Unfortunately, unlike his imaginings, where he would be triumphantly holding said rustlers bravely and single-handedly at bay until help arrived, Joe was at the thieves' mercy, and now longed to be anywhere else. They had led his horse through a small draw at the opposite end of the meadow, a spot the boy vaguely recalled having found for himself years ago when he and his friends had come out here playing hide and seek. With despair he remembered winning every one of those games when he had used this place to hide in, because it was so very well concealed.
"How long are you going to keep me tied up here?" he demanded, after waiting for over an hour for something to happen. The outlaws had stashed him in the corner of a small rock wall depression, not even deep enough to deserve the title of cave, and had left him there, trussed like a Christmas goose, while they discussed their plans in private. "It's not like I'm gonna go anywhere with all of you standing around watching me!"
"Shut up, kid!" Jimmy's voice called back, looking up just long enough to shoot him a warning look.
Joe scowled. His fear was still there, but it was quickly giving way to anger and irritation. He was not supposed to be here, a victim of his own stupid overactive imagination. How could these men have been doing something so underhanded and selfish all this time, while his family had trusted them and treated them so well? The whole idea rankled at Joe's ingrained sense of fair play. Clearly he had never really known any of them. Then, a thought came to interrupt the barrage of self-recrimination that had been playing in a litany through the boy's mind. If he did not know these men well, then perhaps they did not truly know him either. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. There were people in Virginia City, the ones with no sense of humor in his opinion, who were happy to tell anyone who would listen that Joe Cartwright was a trouble-maker, a spoiled rich brat, a monster with a cherub's face. Not that he had ever done anything particularly worthy of all those titles, but play one or two pranks on the wrong person and you earned a reputation. 'If I could get the whole town believing in an outlaw no one has ever seen, then maybe I can get a few outlaws to believe in a reputation I never earned,' he mused. 'What the heck, I already know they don't plan to kill me yet.'
"Hey!" he shouted again. "My arms are falling asleep, and I ain't had anything to eat all day! Come on and untie me a while, huh?"
Frank came over to see him, glowering at him with a look that Joe was sure was intended to frighten him back into silence. Instead, Joe turned his obnoxious tone up a notch.
"It's about time! You know, even guys in prison get out of their chains once in a while, and they do get bread and water." He scowled at the man, pleased when his empty stomach gave off with a well-timed growl at the mention of food. "There, you see? I'm hungry!"
The man waved a fist under his nose. "Maybe I ought to feed this to you, boy! Think that would do you for a while?"
Little Joe's insides quaked at the thought of the much larger cowboy beating him into pulp if he didn't shut up, but decided to push his luck just a bit. "No, thanks. I don't bother eating garbage."
Purple veins stood out on Frank's forehead at the insult and he reared his fist back, but before he could deliver it, the laughter of the other men brought him up short. Mike sauntered up, a grin on his lined face. "You got a lot of spunk, kid. I've always said that about you. Not a hell of a lot of sense, but a lot of spunk." He clapped Frank on the back. "Don't let him rile you. Feed him, then maybe he'll give us some peace and quiet. Jim and me are heading back to the bunkhouse. Get him some food and water, then gag him and leave him in that cave where nobody can see him tonight, then come on back and join us. Gotta make this look good, after all."
Joe's green eyes went wide as he took in the news that the outlaws planned to leave him here, tied up alone and helpless all night long.
"Maybe I ought to just gag him now and save us all a lot of trouble," Frank growled, but went to get some hard tack and jerky out of a supply sack anyway. He untied Joe's hands and handed him the food and a canteen. "Don't get any funny ideas, kid. I'm not about to take my eyes off of you until you're tied up tight again."
He kept his word, watching Joe like a hawk the entire time he nibbled his way through the unappetizing meal, doing his best to eat slowly and put off having his bonds restored. The first bite of food made him realize just how hungry he truly was, and as he gnawed the stiff meat and hard bread, Little Joe thought with longing of the fried chicken and mashed potatoes Hop Sing had promised to serve for dinner back home.
Finally, no matter how slowly he ate; Joe could not help swallowing the last few bites. "All right, that's enough. Hold out your hands, so I can tie you back up," Bert ordered, coming over to relieve the bored Frank, a fresh rope in his hands.
Joe's mind scrambled to come up with a delaying tactic. He needed to get a good look around. It seemed to him that there was another way out of this little pocket of ground, other than the way they had come in and the more obvious way the cattle were clearly going to take out. "Not yet!" he snapped. "I don't know about you fellas; maybe you ain't human enough to bother, but I've gotta pee something awful, and I can't do it with my hands trussed together." That was a lie. He probably could do an adequate job with his hands tied, but fortunately, Bert and Frank did not test him. They merely muttered something Joe did not understand, then Bert grabbed him by the arm and steered him a few yards away from the main campsite. Joe frantically searched the area with his eyes, but was unable to spot the extra way in and out. Slumping in defeat, he nearly forgot his excuse for coming out here.
"Well?" his guard demanded, when the boy merely stood there staring into the night for several minutes. "You gotta go, or don't you? I ain't got all night."
A startled jerk was Joe's only response as he mentally rejoined the party. It was rather difficult to make anything happen with a fella standing right there looking at him, but with a small sigh, Joe turned his back and went about his business. "Done," he said reluctantly a moment later. Bert spun him back around toward camp without a word and shoved him forward. Joe began to move, then stopped so suddenly he nearly got run over as he spotted what he had been looking for. It was on the opposite side of the camp! A tiny clearing, just a clump of shrubbery to the untrained eye, which Joe knew hid an old deer trail.
Bert cursed at him and shoved him forward so hard that Joe nearly fell on his face, but managed to stumble and stay erect. The way Joe saw it he had two choices. It would be difficult to get to the hidden trail without being spotted while the gang was still around, but if he could talk them into leaving the ropes off for a while longer, that would make escape easier. On the other hand, if he waited until his two remaining guards left for the night, he would have to escape the ropes, but would have a much better chance of getting help. He would be able to get to his horse, and ride out, rather than trying to travel several miles in the dark, on foot, to get home. Joe decided to bide his time.
"I'm headed back," Frank grunted to his cohort, as the two came back into sight. "We weren't supposed to be working together today so it'd probably look better if we got in separately." Without waiting to see if his partner approved or not, the man swung up on his horse and kneed it into motion. "Don't forget to tie him up tight, and gag him!" he shouted as he rode out.
Bert grumbled a bit, clearly not liking having been left behind to take care of Little Joe, even for a few minutes, but he obeyed. The captive was dragged roughly back to the rock depression and shoved down hard onto the mossy seat naturally formed in the stones. When Joe's back hit the wall, a scattering of weeds and dust flew up at the impact. His sinuses instantly went on the warpath and the boy began to sneeze violently. Bert watched him, standing there with a rope in one hand and a bandanna gag in the other, clearly not sure what to do. Joe saw his opportunity and grabbed it. He bent forward with another sneeze, tensed his legs and charged forward, head-butting the surprised rustler in the gut as hard as he could. Everyone in the family liked to joke about Joe having a hard head, and for once it came in handy. Bert fell to the ground, wind completely knocked out of him and the boy snatched the rope and hog-tied him with lightning speed. Not for nothing had Joe won the Founders Day roping and tying contest two years running! He used the furious outlaw's own neck cloth to gag him with, then swiftly removed his gunbelt. Unfortunately, it was made for a right-hander, but the boy simply made do, cinching the belt as tight as it would go and turning it around backward. "That ought to hold you," he said with a huge satisfied grin. "At least until the law can come and get you."
Little Joe ran over to retrieve his horse and grabbed the reins of Bert's horse just for good measure. After a moment's debate, he decided not to use the hidden trail as he had planned to. Bert could still see him from here, and if anything went wrong and it became necessary to sneak up on this camp again, it would be best to have the deer trail as a backup. As he rode out, careful not to go too fast lest he run into Frank, a full-blown daydream flashed into Joe's mind. He could see himself bravely leading Roy and a posse back to camp, only to find that the whole gang had come back, and was ready to shoot it out to prevent prison or the rope. He, of course, would valiantly capture at least two outlaws himself, leaving the other two for Roy and his deputies, just so they would feel needed. Afterward, he would tell his family and the grateful citizens of Virginia City how he had planned it this way all along, starting the rumors about Desperado Dan just to lull the real rustlers into a false sense of security.
Joe's first inkling that things might not be going his way after all came at that moment. He passed the remainder of the herd, the ones the rustler had not had time to grab yet and pulled up short. Hadn't there been about twice that many steers the last time he had seen them? The click of a rifle sounded to Joe's left and he pulled his gun. It was awkward to pull the backward pistol, but he managed to get it turned around and cocked before a shot rang out. Joe hit the ground, and Cochise and the other horse took off toward the hills.
Chapter 9
"Where in tarnation can he be?" Hoss was the first to speak the words every member of the Cartwright family had been thinking for the last three hours. "First he missed one of his favorite suppers, and now it's almost time to turn in and he still ain't showed up."
"You don't suppose the little scalawag headed into town to have a last night of fun before the drive starts tomorrow, do you?" Adam did not sound any too sure of his theory, but it was worth a try to deflect the anxious expression in his father's eyes. "Figures he's a big man now, so he talked Sam into serving him a few beers and went to do a little bragging with his buddies."
Ben considered it, then shook his head. "He promised he'd be home early for dinner so we could discuss all the last minute arrangements for tomorrow," he reminded them. "As excited as he's been about this trip, I just don't see your brother doing anything to jeopardize his chances of going."
Hoss reluctantly spoke up. "He didn't seem as keen about the drive yesterday morning, Pa. Joe was trying to talk me into letting him stay behind and stake out the north rim looking for Desperado Dan. I talked him out of it, though." That last was tacked on in a hurry when both Adam and Ben reared up in their seats, identical expressions of irritation stealing across their faces.
"Joe was headed up that way today to help the men move the remainder of the herd," Ben said slowly. "You don't suppose he actually found anything dangerous, do you?"
"Of course not," Adam stated flatly. "He just went out and had a look around while he was doing something useful, for a change. I ran into Mike after Joe left, and he told me the kid was going up to help him and that new fella you hired get started on those busted fences after the herd was moved."
"I saw Mike ride in a little while ago when I was out in the barn," Hoss remembered. He had made several trips out there after dinner, hoping to intercept his wayward sibling and warn him before Pa got his hands on him. "He put up his horse and said howdy to me before he went into the bunkhouse with a couple of the others."
The three men rose as one, headed for the bunkhouse.
~*~*~*~*~
Ben slumped, realizing that his youngest son had quite possibly been missing for far longer than he had first suspected. Ignoring the question, he looked around at the rest of the gathered hands and raised his voice to be heard by all of them. "Has anyone here seen my son Joseph today, following this morning's round up of the north rim section?"
There were murmurs of dissent all over the room. Nobody remembered seeing him after Joe had volunteered to gather those last few strays. One of the men offered, "Maybe Daniel seen him after Mike left, and they're doing something together. He ain't back either."
That statement seemed to catch quite a few of the men by surprise as they looked around and realized that Daniel Freeman had never made it back to the bunkhouse.
"Desperado Dan!" Hoss exclaimed loudly, his eyes going round with alarm. "Joe thought sure that new fella was actually Desperado Dan in disguise. Golly, Pa, what if he was right?"
"Oh, Hoss, don't be ridiculous," Ben snapped. He looked at Adam, expecting him to also chide his younger brother and offer up a more rational explanation. To his surprise, Adam did nothing of the kind. Instead he looked nervous and did not say a word. "Adam, surely you don't believe that!"
"Well, Pa, I don't know." Adam's voice was quietly tense. "He asked Hoss and me to have a look and we couldn't entirely dispute that Freeman looked a lot like that poster Joe's been carrying around of Dan Briggs. I told him it was just a coincidence, but now I'm not so sure."
Another of the men stepped forward, his face a bit pale. "Mr. Cartwright, I thought the same thing. You know we always like to give the new men a little razzing, just to make them feel welcome? Well, sir, this morning I was teasing Freeman about how much he looked like Desperado Dan. I told him to watch out or I'd turn him in for that fat reward they're offering in town. I was only kidding, Mr. Cartwright, honest, but he got kinda mad. Told me to shut up and mind my own business."
The din of conversation that statement caused made it impossible to make any sense of what was going on. Apparently several of the hands had been in on the teasing, and agreed that the new hand had not taken it with as much sense of humor as they'd expected. He had seemed downright steamed about it, and now both he and the famous outlaw's most dedicated hunter were both missing. Three men backed stealthily away from the others to where they would not be overheard, as the Cartwrights tried to quiet the rest back down.
"Mike, is what he says true?" Frank hissed. "Did Freeman really show up to work today or were you just saying that? Was he riled about the teasing this morning?"
"I saw him, just like I said," Mike replied. "I left a mite earlier than I claimed, but Freeman was still hard at work at the time. He didn't say a thing about this morning. Matter of fact, he didn't say anything at all, hardly."
"You don't suppose," Jimmy whispered nervously.
"No I don't!" snapped Mike. "This is the perfect cover for us, though, don't you see that? Maybe Dan just figured he wasn't welcome here and lit out. Anyhow, it don't matter, cause this is better than we could've asked for. Anyone asks us any questions, we just shift the suspicion all onto him."
"What about Bert?" Frank muttered. "He should've been back here an hour ago. You think something happened?"
"I think maybe we'd best go find out as soon as everyone else goes to sleep," Mike growled. "It's getting a little hot around here all of a sudden, and I'd just as soon make sure. If anyone asks, we can say we got worried and went looking for the kid and Dan." The other two smiled and rejoined the rest of the men as the talk finally died.
"Let's not jump to any conclusions," Ben ordered. "Let's just stick with the facts. Joseph is a few hours late and so is Mr. Freeman. That may mean nothing more serious than that one of their horses pulled up lame and they ran into each other and are making their way back more slowly than usual. It does not mean that Freeman is a rustler, or that Joe is in any danger."
Hoss and Adam glanced at each other. Their father sounded as if he was trying to convince himself right along with the ranch hands. Adam chimed in. "My father is right! All we came out here for was to find out if anyone had seen Little Joe, not to accuse anyone of anything. I'm sure that Joe will turn up in just a little while with a good excuse. Now, we've still got a cattle drive to start in the morning, so I want all you men to turn in."
"What if Little Joe ain't back by first light?" The question came from Rusty, one of Joe's best friends among the hands. "You want a couple of us to stay behind and help you look for him, Mr. Cartwright? I'm volunteering, if you are." It was clear that he was not expecting Ben Cartwright to ride out with the rest in the morning if his son was still missing. The men all knew their employer far too well for that.
Ben smiled tightly. "I'm sure he'll be back any minute, but if he's not, then I'll accept your offer. Thank you, Rusty."
The man nodded, looking a little worried as he slowly moved back to sit on his bunk. The rest of the men also drifted back to their places as the Cartwright family left them, whispered conversations beginning again all across the room. The rumor mill would be working overtime that night.
~*~*~*~*~
A little after midnight, the sound of a galloping horse entering the yard caused a minor stampede. Ben, Hoss and Adam had all, at one time or another, urged each other to turn in for the night, or expressed the intention of doing so themselves. Nobody had moved from his chair, however. Now, as the sound of hooves got louder, they rushed toward the door, relief, worry, and anger warring for domination in each of their hearts.
Ben flung open the door and marched outside. The sight that met his eyes sent a cold chill through him. It was Cochise and another horse, but no riders. Both animals were saddled and their flanks heaved, sweat dripping off their coats in foamy droplets. Cochise shied when Hoss tried to grab his reins, but the big man got a good hold on the halter and calmed him down. Adam checked the saddles for blood or any other sign of trouble. There were none.
"Who was riding this other horse today? Was it Dan Freeman?" Ben demanded.
"No, sir, it was Bert Cooper," the voice that answered the question startled the Cartwrights, as they had not heard Rusty emerge from the bunkhouse. He shrugged when he saw their surprise at finding him still up. "I've been waiting around, hoping Joe would make it home. Nobody mentioned it, but I noticed a while back that Bert was gone too.