Summary: Part twelve of A Battle of Wills
Word Count: 6150
A Battle of Wills
“Every time I close the door on reality it comes in through the windows.” Jennifer Unlimited
Boston 1871
The Coal Bin of the Stoddard House
As Ben Cartwright’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and he could make out a bit of the coal bin. It was mostly empty, being summer, and a small heap of shiny black coal were scattered in the corners. The walls were sturdy wooden partitions and the door was heavy and clearly bolted from the other side. Joe leaned against the battered wooden coal shoot that angled to the outside wall of the cellar.
Ben stood up and pushed with all his weight against the door panel. It didn’t budge. He and Joe were prisoners.
“Pa, Adam was here in this house. His hat was on the desk.” Joe repeated. “They have him here.”
“If they do, I’m going to find him.” Ben found him in this house when he was a baby and he would find him if he was in the house now.
Joe started to feel around the coal bin in the dark. He smoothed his hands along the filthy stone walls and eased his feet forward along the cellar floor. “Do you have any more matches?”
As Ben was feeling through is pockets, Joe’s stepped on something in the corner of the coal bin. They both heard a low moan and Joe bent down to touch what he stepped on. A man was lying crumbled on the floor.
“Adam!” Joe could barely make out his brother’s form in the slit of light coming from under the door.
Ben found another match and quickly lit it. Adam lay in a heap in the corner of the coal bin, his long legs sticking out from under the wooden coal shoot. Joe leaned over and touched his brother.
Opening his eyes slowly, Adam looked up at his brother and his father. For a moment, he looked confused, as if he wasn’t sure who they were. Pa should still be back on the Ponderosa, not in Boston. Then his expression cleared when he remembered that his father had been due to arrive the day Adam had been caught in the Stoddard house.
“Pa!” Adam could see his father in the flickering light of the match.
”You all right son?” He could see the bruises and dried blood on his son’s face but he was relieved to find him. The match burned down to Ben’s fingers and he dropped it to the cellar floor.
“It was Laura and Wilkes Harrison Smith, Pa. They know that I found out about them.” Adam whispered hoarsely. Ben helped him sit up. Adam coughed a few times and cleared his throat.
Joe smiled despite himself. “ We found that out too, when we came looking for you.”
”I found this upstairs in the library. Just like Will had said. Laura set him up.” Adam painfully sat up and in the darkness and pulled the pink note out of his vest pocket. It was too dark to read the writing but Joe knew exactly what it was.
”Laura’s note?”
Adam nodded. “We have to get this to the court. Will didn’t lie.”
“We have to get out of here and bring that note to the judge.” Ben kneeled down next to his son and smoothed his hands over him trying to judge how badly he was hurt. Adam winced when his father touched the lump on the back of his head. Ben felt the big lump and the crust of the dried blood from when Adam was hit over the head by the billy club wielding guard.
“That’s not all, Pa. In the box of papers you and Phil sent we found a letter sent to Foster Wallace years ago from his friend. Doctor Smith his name was. He wrote about the Sea Breeze. Remember Bob Harrison? The man who was trying to buy all that land near Cherry Creek? He sank the Sea Breeze, Pa. Wilkes is his nephew and knew all about it.”
“Bob Harrison?”
Adam coughed again. The dust of the coal bin was choking him.
“It wasn’t an accident like we always thought. Harrison killed the whole crew of a ship for the insurance money, for the phony cargo he was sending on the ship. Harrison robbed Charles Bruce. They sank his ship and killed his son and Captain O’Mara and almost drove Charles Bruce out of business.”
Ben opened his mouth in surprise. Someone had murdered Dennis and Emily’s father and Amanda’s brother ? All these years they thought it had been an accident. “Did Abel Stoddard … Did your grandfather have anything to do with this?”
In the darkness, Adam shook his head “No Pa. Abel was a bastard but he had nothing to do with this. He and Charles Bruce weren’t even in business together in those days. Abel stepped in and helped Charles Bruce stay in business in exchange for a long term piece of Bruce’s ships and everything else he had. He was greedy but all open and above board and no way killed anyone.”
Adam thought of the boa constrictor he had once seen when he was in South America working on building railroad tunnels through the jungle. The snake was huge and frightening looking and squeezed the life out of a goat. Then the boa some how swallowed the entire animal. That was how Abel Stoddard did business, like a boa constrictor. His grandfather would squeeze the life out of something and then swallow it whole.
“I know every contract, file and deal Stoddard and Bruce ever did. Don’t forget how long I worked there and how long Dennis and I have been partners, No Pa, Abel was a snake but my grandfather had nothing to do with sinking the Sea Breeze. He just took advantage of Charles Bruce’s losses.”
”I’m glad for you son. There is no love lost between Abel and me but I would hate to think he had a ship sunk for the money. And killed all those people too.”
”Enough about that Adam. How do we get out of here and get Laura’s note to the courts?“ Joe looked around the coal bin.
From outside their trap, on the street above their heads, the Cartwrights could hear angry shouts “Joe Cartwright you get out here and fight like a man. You bloody royalist!”
“Get out here laddie!”a voice with a think Irish brogue bellowed.
Chapter 2
1850, Nevada Territory
Early fall was always a busy time at the Ponderosa and even more so the second year Adam was away at college. There had been big gold strikes in California and local men were all at once flocking further west in hope of getting rich quick. Many of the ranches and logging camps were very pressed for good hands and the Ponderosa was no exception to this difficulty. Ben had been forced to scrounge for even inexperienced cow hands and loggers and had to settle in many cases for raw green horns, men who were more interested in mining or farming or, by Ben’s estimation, a notch above being saddle tramps and common drunks. For the first time in many years, he was particularly glad he had the payroll gun kept in his desk on the ranch when it was payday. Ben and Hays had lost count of the drunken fights they had to break up and men that had to be fired and thrown off the ranch.
Most of the men he had been forced to hire had no idea how to tend a herd and were more used to plow horses than cowponies and were not used to being in the saddle for such long days. One man even accidentally branded himself when he tripped over his own feet. Few of them were able to rope more than a fence post but the Ponderosa had no other choice.
Ben had timber contracts due to be filled and a herd to bring to the lower pastures and horses that had to be broken and not really enough help to do any of the jobs with ease. Many late nights were spent at his desk rearranging work schedules and sorting through deadlines after long workdays. He sorely missed Adam’s help in these matters. More than once that fall, Little Joe or Hoss crept down the stairs late at night to find his him still working and struggling to keep awake.
There were so many things to do during roundup time. Cattle being herded in from all over the ranch, new calves being branded and the main herd being brought to market. In the past, Little Joe was too small to even think about asking to come with his father and had stayed behind with Rebecca Newkirk and her children while the men were away. Last year Joe had attempted to run off with Dean to find the round up and the two little boys wound up tearfully finding their way back home in the dark when he and Dean got frightened and lost. Fortunately, Little Joe had enough sense to realize their horse knew her way back to the barn. Joe told the horse to go home for dinner and the boys hung on until they found their way home in the moonlight. Rebecca Newkirk had almost sent out for Roy Coffee and a posse.
This fall, late one night, Little Joe had managed to get his weary father to relent and agree to bring him along on the drive. He convinced his father that he would be obedient and do what ever he was told to do. Tired as he was Ben Cartwright gave in to his youngest son and brought him along.
The early fall morning was hot and still. The trail was dusty and by the time lunch was served at the chuck wagon, most of the weary men and tired horses on cattle drive were thankful for the rest. The fall cattle drive was moving slowly towards its successful end despite the inexperienced crew.
The night before, long after everyone assumed he was asleep in his bedroll, Little Joe Cartwright had ridden out to where his Pa was on night watch. The boy intended to keep his Pa company and bring him some food. As joyful as Ben was to see his beloved little boy, Joe had disobeyed the rules that had been set for him about staying where he was put and not going off on his own. Ben had carried his little boy back to camp sleeping in the saddle in front of him.
“Don’t think we’re going to make too many miles today, Pa.” Hoss observed as he sat down with his plate of beans
“Not too many miles, Pa’ Little Joe agreed imitating his husky brother. He carefully juggled his tin plate of beans and his chunk of corn bread as he sat down on the ground at his father’s feet.
“That’s all right. We don’t want to run the weight off of them before we get the herd to market.” Ben wiped his grimy face with his bandanna. He took a swallow from of his coffee.
“Want me to get you more coffee Pa?” Joe was trying his best to show his father he was not a little baby and could be a big help on the drive and never be left behind with Mrs. Newkirk ever again. Little Joe dreamed that he would convince his father to take him to San Francisco on his next business trip and help him bring horses to the army. Then Joe could stop going to school forever.
“Not yet son, I still have some left.” Ben held up his tin cup to show his little boy. “You can help out by not roaming around like you did last night. The men have enough to move that herd with out watching out for my boy too. It doesn’t matter if your Pa is the boss. All my sons have to work as hard or harder than everyone else. Someday this ranch will belong to you boys, and the men have to respect you, not think it was just handed to you. You caused a lot of trouble for the hands when you turned up missing.”
”But I wasn’t missing, Pa. I knew just where I was. I was with you.”
“ I can’t have that, son. You have to follow orders.”
“That’s right Short Shanks. You scared the life out of me when I saw all there was in your bed roll was a bunched up jacket.” Hoss shoveled the rest of his corn bread into his mouth and got up to take a second portion from the chuck wagon. “You stay put where Pa tells you,” Hoss reprimanded over his shoulder.
”I did find a stray though.” Little Joe stuck out his lower lip and poked at his beans. “I roped it just like you showed me.”
Ben shook his head. There was absolutely no arguing with that boy when he had his mindset. He was the most stubborn eight year old in the territory.
Hays Newkirk walked over to the Cartwrights with his food and hunkered down near Ben.
“Look up to the west, Ben. Looks like some dark clouds gathering up there. “ He gestured with his spoon toward the darkening horizon.
”Maybe we are in for some rain.” Ben shook his head. As bad it was to be dealing with heat and dust, it was still better than driving cattle through mud and wet. Those ominous iron gray clouds looked like a bad storm, maybe even lightning. Nothing made a cowboy more nervous than the danger of lightening causing a stampede or range fire.
“Let’s hope it is just a little bitty storm, and moves through fast. I don’t want to be crossing any rain-swollen creeks with this herd, “ Hays took a swallow of his black coffee. “One of the Dayton hands drowned last spring just that way. His horse was fine though.”
Joe nodded at the story figuring the cowboy was pretty dumb and the horse was pretty smart.
Hoss looked at the gathering clouds and listened carefully to what his father would decide. Little Joe kept his eye on Ben’s blue enameled tin cup so that as soon as his Pa swallowed the last dregs, Joe could jump up and get him more hot coffee from the chuck wagon. That would prove to everyone that he was helping.
“I think we can get acrost before dark if we pick up the pace a bit.” Hays said as he chewed.
“I want to ford before the rain hits. It’s not the dark that worries me as much as the rain. And I sure don’t want to be dealing with lightning and thunder with a skittish herd like this one and a bunch of raw hands.”
“This herd would stampede if a butterfly landed on a blade of grass. Got some nervous high strung cattle there, Ben.”
“And a pretty poor bunch riding the herd,” Hoss added.
“There is a box canyon the other side of the river. We could push the herd that way and then move the men along the open side and keep them penned up. Even if they get stirred up, they won’t have much anywhere to go,” Ben picked up a twig and traced a map in the dirt. “ If we head them up this way, we should make it through the night pretty fine if we get hit by a storm.”
Hays nodded. “I’ll pass it on to the drovers. Looks like we should get a move on it though.” Hays poured the rest of his coffee into the dry dirt and headed back out to his horse.
Little Joe picked up a twig and imitated his father and drew his own map. Then he traced a picture of a horse in the dirt and wrote JOE next to it. It was a picture of the horse that could swim. He didn’t draw the man as he had already drowned.
“Pa I can help in the box canyon. I caught that stray last night too.” Little Joe looked hopefully at his father.
“Short Shanks you sure better stick by where Pa puts you.”
”Why?”
” Because I told you so, Boy.” Ben growled and gave him a threatening look that would have stopped even a stampeding herd. He was loosing patience with him and Little Joe knew he had pushed his father over the line and should silently eat his beans and do just what he was told.
“Joseph, I want you to tie your horse to the back of the chuck wagon, and ride with the cook. If we hit bad weather and the herd gets stirred up, I don’t want to be worrying where my little boy is and if he is trampled into pulp in a stampede. “ Ben was silently regretting his decision to bring Little Joe along. If Joe hadn’t wanted to stay with the Newkirks, maybe he should have stayed in town with Mim Wallace. No, the boy should just stay where he was told. Ben Cartwright was not in the habit of letting an eight-year-old boy make decisions for him. His older boys never defied him like Little Joe.
“Joseph, just do what I order you to do.”
For a minute Little Joe was about to protest that he wanted to ride with his Pa. Hoss shot him a warning look and Joe knew better than to argue with Pa if he ever wanted to come along again. “Yes sir.”
The afternoon dragged on very slowly for Little Joe riding in the chuck wagon. It was bumpy and boring and dusty and nowhere near as exciting as riding his own horse or looking for strays or listening to the stories the men told. The cook, Mickey Kilgore, hated children and hated cows, horses, beans and dust and only had signed on for the job to make enough money to grub stake him to go to the California Gold fields. Little Joe tried to get him to talk but he was dour and cranky and not the least bit charmed by the boy’s attempts.
Eventually Joe gave up trying to be sociable and left the wagon seat, much to Mickey’s relief. The boy squeezed in the back of the moving wagon and sat on a lumpy potato sack. He pulled off his boots and socks and scratched his hot feet. Joe tried balancing a tin spoon on the end of his nose. Then he sat at the back of the slow moving wagon and sang songs to himself and to his horse tied on the back. That was fine until Little Joe realized that Adam had taught him those tunes and he began to miss his oldest brother who was in college.
Joe tried to amuse himself by tossing dried red pinto beans into his boot one bean at a time. He tried to keep score on his bare toes. Each time he got 20 beans in a boot he emptied it and started again. Then he started tossing the beans one by one out the back through the round opening of the drawn canvass pretending that he was captured by Indians and he was leaving a trail behind for his Pa and brothers. Pa would save him from the Paiutes and then Joe would take the bad Indians pinto horse for his own.
Eventually he got bored with that game and tired of singing. He had been riding with his father late the night before and started to yawn. The heat and the rocking of the wagon made his eyes heavy and he put his head down on a sack of potatoes and fell asleep with his arm tossed across his eyes.
The stillness of the stopped wagon and the rumble of thunder woke Little Joe up. The chuck wagon had pulled up in a grove of pine trees and Mickey was starting to make supper for the men.
“Boy, you come out here and get me some kindling and earn your keep. We need to give these men their supper, “ ordered Kilgore.
Little Joe quickly put his socks and boots back on and found his hat under the seat where it had fallen. A few fat raindrops splattered into the dry dust around the wagon as the little boy jumped down and started to hunt for firewood.
Lightning flashed in the darkening sky over the hilltop and thunder boomed of the mountains in the distance. The rain barely dampened the dust before it stopped completely. By the time Little Joe came back to the chuck wagon with a double armload of twigs and branches the rain had totally ended. Off in the far distance, Joe could still see the flicker of silver lightning and the rolling rumble of thunder echoing across the prairie.
Hoss was standing by the cook stove wolfing down a plate of stew when Little Joe walked up to the wagon. “You being a good boy?” he asked with a full mouth.
“I’m gathering fire wood,” Joe answered.” The cook told me to do it so I could earn my keep. Why are you here?” Joe hoped Pa had changed his mind and decided he needed his help after all.
“Pa sent me in to get some supper and bring him and Hays some food and coffee.”
”And me too?” Joe tossed the firewood in a heap and wiped his hands on his trousers.
“Just some food, Little Joe.”
”Did he say don’t bring me? Did Pa say, ‘Hoss, my obedient son, don’t bring Little Joe to help me out’?” Joe closed one eye pointed his index finger at his large brother. “Did he, Hoss?”
”Well no he didn’t say that but..”
”He said that I should ride up with the chuck wagon and now the wagon is not moving so that means I did what Pa said. Right?”
Hoss put down his empty tin plate and wiped his chin on his sleeve. “No, Pa didn’t say not to bring you.”
”See, I was right. He needs my help and sent you to show me where he is. You just misunderstood what Pa wanted you to do. Did he say that I should cook the dinner or peel potatoes or take care of the horses or even gather firewood? No, Pa said ride up with the chuck wagon.”
Hoss nodded.
Joe knew he had him now. “So, big brother, let’s ride.” He smiled triumphantly. Little Joe swept off his hat and gestured in the direction of the herd. “Pa needs my help.”
At some level, Hoss Cartwright knew his baby brother had out foxed him and Pa had not intended for Joe to ride out to the herd in the storm. On the other hand the rain had stopped and Little Joe had done just what his father had spelled out for him to do.
“Hoss, I miss my Pa so much. My heart is breaking in two, maybe even breaking in three. Can’t I go?” Little Joe went directly for Hoss’s heart. He made his lips tremble and sniffled like he was about to cry.
Hoss melted. He could never resist his little brother and Joe knew it. “You ride behind me, Short Shanks and if Pa gets mad…”
“Pa won’t get mad. Let’s go.” Joe shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Hoss picked up the burlap sack of food the cook had packed and pushed his hat down on his head. He tied the bag across the front of his saddle and climbed up on his horse.” OK, Little Brother get over here and climb on behind me.”
”No sir. I have my own horse. Can’t work a herd too well if I don’t have my own horse. What if you have to ride down a stampede? Can’t do that if you are worrying about me hanging on behind you. Hoss.”
”What’s wrong with how you are walking, Little Joe?” Hoss asked him as his brother climbed onto his own horse and rode along next to his brother. “You hurt yourself or did you put your boots on the wrong feet.”
”These are the only feet I got, Hoss. Maybe there are still some beans in my boots.”
”Beans?” Hoss didn’t even want to find out how his brother got beans in his boots. He kicked his horse in to a trot and headed up towards the canyon with Joe following.
Chapter 3
Although the rain had barely wet the dry dust at the camp, a few miles away in the canyon the rain had been heavier and the storm trapped between the rocky hills. Lighting had lashed out and in a brief instant, a cowhand and a dozen full an explosive flash hit grown head of cattle. The fire started in the dry grass was quickly put out by the rain and stamped on and beaten down by the cowhands. A black smoldering scar remained from the lightning strike.
The cowboy, Tuffy Jakes, was knocked out of the saddle and had a bad burn down one side going from his spurs to his gun. He hadn’t known that he was supposed to get rid of any metal when a lighting storm approached like a more experienced cowboy would know. Tuffy’s ears were ringing. Two other men were dispatched to bring him down to the chuck wagon to be cleaned up and bandaged. His horse was totally unscathed but ready to bolt for the hills. Five white-faced cows were killed out right and two others had to be shot where they lay. The balance was sent back to the herd.
“Good thing we bottled the cattle up in this canyon, Ben. Between the storm and shooting those hurt cattle we would have had even more trouble than these raw men could have handled.”
Ben agreed. A horse approached over the hill from the chuck wagon.
”Looks like Hoss brought us some dinner, Hays. We can stay up here and send some of the men down to eat when the herd settles down a bit.”
”Looks like Hoss brought us something more than just dinner.” Another horse came over the rise behind Hoss.
“Hey Pa! I came to help out!” A little voice piped. “We brought you some food and coffee too.”
“Looks like we got a better hand coming up than half the fool men up here. At least he knows how to stay on a horse and throw a rope.” Hays told Ben.
“Guess we have to take the help we can get.” Ben smiled happy to see his youngest boy despite himself.
Chapter 4
Virginia City
1871
Doctor Foster brought Philip Bartlett back to Kate and Adam’s empty house with a firm warning that he should lie down for the balance of the day.
”I don’t care how hard you think your head is, Phil. You got quite a lump there and a bit of a concussion. The Enterprise can manage until tomorrow without you. ”
Somewhere around sunset, there was a knock at the front door. When Philip answered the door he saw Miss Barbara of the Altamont Saloon standing on the door step holding a basket on her arm.”
”I heard about your mishap, Philip. I brought you some dinner,” she smiled warmly and lifted the edge of the flowered cloth covering the basket. A delicious buttery warm smell wafted out. “Kugel! You can eat it hot or just at room temperature.”
”Kugel?”
”My dear mother’s recipe. Kugel is noodle pudding. Noodles, cheese curds, butter, eggs. All good healthy delicious things. And there is enough for you to have tomorrow too. It is so good for making you feel better. I brought a few other things too.”
Phil invited her in and in less than half an hour the two of them were seated at the dining room table enjoying a light supper. Miss B looked up at the fine painting of fruit hanging on the paneled wall.
“Lovely painting. Italian I am sure. Adam found it when he was traveling in Europe. He and Kate recently met the same art dealer again at a dinner party in Boston. Lovely woman.”
Philip was always amazed at how Miss Barbara knew all the bits and pieces of everyone’s lives especially the Cartwrights.
“Norm and Bob, the carpenters, will be putting in the stained glass window over here next week. They had it shipped from the man in New York who made it from Adam’s sketches.“ Phil gestured to the wall opposite the painting. “This noodle dish is very good, B. Thanks for bringing me dinner.”
“Phil, please make sure all the Cartwrights watch out. A lot of powerful politicians were involved with all this Cherry Creek business. More than you can imagine. A lot of what was blamed on Ka-Pusta was orchestrated by these men.”
“How do you know?
”Ka-Pusta told me himself. “
Phil’s jaw dropped and he put his fork down noisily on the dinner plate.
“When?”
”More recently than you could imagine. Ka-Pusta may speak in riddles but he didn’t lie about this. Remember what the Paiute word Ka-Pusta means Philip. It means “Green Leaf who makes Big Wind”.
“There was big money to be made on all that land. But Miss B. but it was close to fifteen years ago. Katie and Little Joe were just kids when Foster got killed and that whole thing had been going on long before that. I bet I was a kid myself when this whole thing began.”
”When was Merle Dayton shot?”
”Merle Dayton? I was just a kid, maybe fourteen years old. About the same age as Frank Dayton when his father died. The murder was never solved. What does Dayton have to do with all this?”
”Philip, just eat your kugel and let me make you some tea. You need to rest up a bit and not think too much after that knock to your head. Are you feeling a bit better? I even brought you some cookies for dessert.” Miss Barbara abruptly changed the topic of discussion. She stood up and walked into Katie’s kitchen to heat up the kettle.
Philip tried to piece together what Miss Barbara was telling him. Who were the politicians involved? And why was this still going on for more than two decades?
“I want to go up to Elm Creek, to the Massey auction with you.” Miss Barbara told Phil as she walked back into the dining room holding a tray with the tea and cookies.
“To the Massey Ranch?” Phil adjusted his bent glasses to look up at her as she poured his tea. “Why?”
”Well Philip darling, over the years I have been watching carefully as to the climate of this town and the opportunities it afforded me. I also watched for the lack of opportunities as times changed. Levi Victor warned me that I should always plan for situations to change. Ever since Stanley Fischer passed away and the church ladies have gained such strength, I have been considering retiring and selling the Altamont Saloon. I have some money put aside and Ben Cartwright, and some other fine gentlemen have been advising me on my investments over the years. Perhaps purchasing a ranch would be a good investment for me. Or a peaceful place to live far away from prying eyes and gossip.”
”I’d be glad to have the company. “ Phil smiled warmly. “We’d have more time to talk too on the way there and back.”
”Wonderful. Do you like the cookies? I baked them myself from Mim Wallace’s recipe.”
Phil nodded and reached for another one. He was dying to hear more about Cherry Creek and Ka-Pusta but as a good reporter he knew he just had to bide his time and follow his leads. He would have more than enough time to get her to talk on the trip to Elm Grove.
Chapter 5
Boston, 1871
The Stoddard House
The men stood and looked at each other, seemingly not knowing how to proceed. Their initial plan had changed drastically in a matter of days. What should’ve been a simple business of roughing up a prisoner and making a few dollars under the table was now something much more. It was clear to them now that Wilkes Harrison Smith hiring the guards to beat on Will Cartwright had little to do with him murdering Smith’s wife. At first both Oakland and Simone thought it was Smith’s revenge on the prisoner for his of murdering Louella Smith. The guards were more than happy to deal out a bit of premature justice on the prisoner. Matter of fact, they would have done most of it for free. All the prisoners in the Municipal jail claimed to be innocent, so there was no difference in Will Cartwright’s saying that he was set up. The guards just slapped him around more each time he did. He said that he was innocent and they smacked him around.
Smith gave each of them a nice crisp white envelop of cash just this week instructing them to dish him out a good thrashing when the prisoner’s wife came to visit. Both the guards assumed that it was just to intimidate the attractive blonde wife. Then Mrs. William Cartwright would convince her battered husband to change his innocent plea to a guilty plea and end the long drawn out trial. But the strange part was that pretty Mrs. Will Cartwright wasn’t concerned much when the prisoner got hurt pretty badly. Matter of fact she seemed to enjoy watching her husband get worked over.
This morning, more of those damn Cartwrights showed up at the jail with the lawyer and the judge and made a big fuss. Will Cartwright was moved back to his old cell and Simone and Oakland were told to check out for the day pending a judicial investigation of the beating. Both guards knew they were in bad trouble now if the truth came out.
Wilkes Smith was having the two guards hold this Adam Cartwright prisoner in his fancy big house. There was a witness and that was something they could not afford. Adam Cartwright was a fancy gent and had come poking his nose around Smith in the Stoddard house.
The next thing the two guards found out was that Smith two more men were stuffed into the coal bin in the cellar. It was more of Will Cartwright’s kin, an older man with white hair and the younger fellow with the cast on his arm who had made such a fuss visiting the jail that morning.
“This damn house is getting busier than the Boston Central Rail Station. First Smith has Adam Cartwright tossed into the cellar. Now we just shoved the other two fellows in the coal bin. We don’t have enough men to keep track of all those Cartwrights. We need to stick them all in one place.”
”What do you mean, one place? They are all tucked away nice and neat in the coal bin.”
“I’m talking of one place like the grave yard.”
“We can kill them all now too. That would be easy enough.” Oakland didn’t think too hard about killing someone who could cause him a problem. Simone didn’t agree.
“Let’s wait on that. We may be in deep but so far we ain’t killed no one.”
”So far. Did you see who was sitting with Mr. Smith all hugging up to him in the study?” Oakland asked his pal.
“That blonde hussy. Will Cartwright’s wife. Son of a gun, Maybe Will Cartwright was telling the truth. He kept on that he was innocent and he was set up by his wife.”
”Well, Oakland, maybe so but its too late now.”
”What do you mean?”
”We got tied up with this deal and Smith said we better keep our mouths shut or we will go to jail too for our part. You know what would happen to us guards if they locked us up in the same jail with the prisoners we have been beating on?”
Simone’s eyes widened at the image. “We would be praying to be dead.”
Oakland made the decision for both of them.” Dead men bear no witness. Neither do dead women.”
As the two guards spoke they heard heavy foot steps come up to the front steps. Angry fists pounded furiously on the front door.
“Joe Cartwright! You come out and fight like a man! “ Loud voices demanded. “Get out here and fight Joe Cartwright!”
A brick crashed against Captain Stoddard’s ornately carved front door.
Continue on to Battle of Wills Part 13
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