THREE

Adam knelt on the ground, fingering remnants of burnt and coffee-soaked wood. It was a habit of theirs, using the leftover coffee to put out the fire. Pa called it a waste, but the older man did it too.

Usually when Little Joe was making the coffee.

He was pretty sure the camp had been pitched by Hoss. It had all the earmarks of his teenage brother's occupation including several salvaged bird's nests, a beefed-up rabbit burrow, and an imprint of a body in the grass that could have been made by Jack's beanstalk giant when he fell.

Rising, Adam took a step toward Scout, intent on pursuing his brother, but stopped at the sound of someone working the lever on a rifle.

"You just stand still, mister. You hear?" the man ordered.

It was one of those edgy voices. Jittery. Nervous.

Young.

"Glad to oblige."

"And get your hands in the air!"

"Now which is it you want?" Adam asked calmly. "I can't stand still and put my hands in the air at the same time."

"No, but you can die for back-talking my little brother," a gruffer, older voice announced to the ominous sound of a pistol's safety catch being released. "Bullet in the brain. Bullet in the back. It's all the same to me."

Adam remained silent for a moment. "Is it all right if I say something?" he inquired as politely as if he were at the dinner table asking for salt.

'What you got to say?"

"That unless you have a very good reason, murdering me is probably not the way to start your day. Since I don't know you and you don't know me –"

"Who says we don't know you?" the older man countered.

He hadn't even considered it. Adam started to turn. "Who...?"

"You just keep your eyes lookin' south, Cartwright. You take a look at us and the next thing you'll see is a grave. One big enough for you and that brother of yours who is nosin' around."

He had to mean Hoss. "You haven't hurt him?"

"We ain't gone near him," the younger of the pair said, his voice pitched high. "He's got that bedeviled horse with him."

"Shut up, you idiot," the older man growled.

"I'm tellin' you, it's possessed. You seen the look out of those black eyes. That ain't no animal lookin' back at you, it's – "

"Shut up! Just shut up."

So, the mystery of Mystery begins to unravel, Adam thought. These two knew the black mare, but it didn't sound like she belonged to them. Maybe they were the ones who let her go. Or, perhaps, had stolen her and she escaped. Whatever it was, the younger one was scared of her and he didn't think the perceived threat was merely physical.

"Are you saying a spirit lives inside that horse?" Adam asked.

Apparently it was the wrong thing to ask as three seconds later he felt the barrel of a pistol parting the back of his black hair.

"You just keep your mouth shut, Cartwright. My brother's nervous enough without you feedin' his fancy. I keep tellin' him, that horse is just a horse. It's loco cause the woman who owned it was loco."

Was.

"She's dead then?"

He felt the man's breath on his cheek. "Dead as it gets."

Even as Adam opened his mouth to reply, the gun was withdrawn. That should have been a good thing.

It wasn't.

A second later it came down on his skull.

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Hoss followed the black mare for some time. Mystery led him on such a winding path that he had been lost for a bit, but now he knew where he was. He'd been in this area before as a little kid. It ran alongside a small lake whose surrounding hills were dotted with caves, and was known as a place where outlaws and renegade Indians often took refuge. Their pa always worried when they came this way, but both he and Little Joe had been fascinated by the caves and the drawings they found in them. They were high up on the walls and told bits and pieces of the story of the ancient people who had lived there long ago. He and Joe, they'd take turns finishin' up that story, fillin' in the gaps and comin' up with wild endin's – sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Every time they could, they'd get away from Pa and Adam and find a way in. One time they'd found a natural shaft cut into the hillside and had shinnied down it, and from there made their way to the bottom of a tall rocky tower. Little Joe'd gone lookin' for gold, but it was him that found somethin' – somethin' that scared him. It was white and moved like a vapor in the dark. At first he'd thought it was a wild animal, but then it up and reached for him. He'd yelped like a girl, grabbed Joe by the arm and practically shoved him up the shaft, and then the two of them had high-tailed it out of there faster than a man could say 'Jumpin' Jack Robinson'.

Little Joe'd asked, but they'd never gone back.

Hoss squinted against the sun, which was just topping the trees. It was almost noon and he'd been movin' for near five hours now. Since Mystery had backtracked, he figured the ranch house wasn't all that far away – two, maybe three hours on foot. As the teenager thought of home, a pang hit him like a hunger in the belly. He didn't know what he'd been thinkin'. He couldn't leave. He just couldn't. Adam would be all right if he did, but there weren't no tellin' what it would do to Little Joe. He'd lost so much already. Or to his pa.

Pa, who'd worry he'd driven him away with his anger.

Hoss looked at the mare again. He'd taken to callin' her simply 'Girl' since she seemed to have a problem with Mystery. "You sure do know what you're doin', don't you, Girl?" he asked as he and Chubb followed her up a rise. "You kept me wanderin' long enough that mad I had on just plain wore away to nothin'."

The horse turned back to look at him. She blew air through her nose and shook her long mane.

"If you don't mind, though, I'd be obliged if you would tell me just where is it you're takin' me." Hoss felt a shiver snake along his spine as he met her too-wise eyes. He didn't know how he knew but, suddenly, he did. "Not back to that cave where I saw that...thing?"

Mystery's black eyes narrowed as she approached, challenging him.

"It ain't that I'm afraid to go back," he told her. "Well, not much at least."

Pa'd told him once that horses weren't smart enough to get a joke.

This one was.

"Well, go on then," the teenager said with false bravado as she snorted and capered. "You take me wherever it is you need to take me, so's I can see whatever it is you want me to see."

Mystery struck the ground with her hoof. She nuzzled his shoulder and whinnied, and then began to walk.

Hoss was sure his pa would think him dumb as a cluck for lettin' a horse lead him into the unknown. Adam would roll his eyes and Joe, well, Little Joe would be laughin' so hard he'd split a gut.

He hoped Little Joe was okay. He hoped his baby brother would feel like laughin' again real soon.

He hoped he'd see his little brother again.

Mystery nickered, impatient.

"Ain't that just like a woman?" Hoss sighed.

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Adam awoke bound and gagged and slung over Scout's back. It was as undignified a position as it was uncomfortable. His face was turned into the horse's flesh, so all he could do was listen. Unfortunately, he could hear at least four horses besides his own, so his attackers had not been alone and he was definitely outnumbered and outgunned. His quick mind liked puzzles – in fact, they fascinated him. Still, he preferred solving them with a pencil on paper while sitting in the big blue velvet chair by the fireplace and not hanging upside-down over his horse's saddle! As Scout plodded on, he considered what he knew. He and Hoss had found the black mare wandering on the range and brought her home. All of them, from Pa to Little Joe, found her both intriguing and just a little dangerous. Joe fell in love with her at first sight, of course, and Hoss, pampering their younger brother as usual, defied their father and kept her in the corral so he could tame her. Little Joe had done something while sitting on the corral fence, accidentally no doubt, to spook her and the mare had dragged and nearly killed him. Pa had blamed Hoss and Hoss had run away. He'd come looking for the teenager, to bring him back home, and accidentally stumbled into a nest of somewhat brutish outlaws who had some connection to the mare. One of them at least thought the horse was housing the spirit of a woman who had died.

Or more likely been murdered.

It was a conundrum worthy of a cliffhanger in one of those dreadful dime novels Little Joe hid under his pillows.

Adam shifted so he could lift his head and look around. They were still on Ponderosa land, down near one of the smaller lakes that was ringed by hills that contained a myriad of caves. The caves were the favorite haunts of outlaws and brigands since there were so many of them the law simply lacked the manpower to search every one.

They had also been a favorite haunt of his younger brothers up until about two years ago.

"Cartwright's awake," one of the outlaws announced.

Damn. He should have kept his head down.

"Don't make no difference. He can't do anythin'," the older man groused.

"What if he tells someone what we're doin'?"

The elder of the pair snorted. "There ain't gonna be no one for him to tell by the time we're done. Him, or that younger brother of his."

The outlaws were threatening Hoss again. Adam hoped they didn't already have him held captive somewhere.

A sudden thought struck him, sending a shudder along his spine. They did mean Hoss, didn't they?

Or did the outlaws have Little Joe too?

No. That was crazy. Joe was home. He was half-blind. Pa wouldn't let a twelve-year-old half-blind boy out of the house.

Would he?

The younger outlaw cleared his throat. "How long until we're there, Earl?"

"Shut up," the other one snarled. "I told you not to use my name."

"Sorry."

Earl?

Did he know anyone called Earl? Adam racked his brain for a moment. The name was familiar. Recently familiar. It took a minute or two, but then he had it. A pair of disgruntled brothers, one older than him and the other about Hoss' age. They'd signed on at the ranch about a week before Mystery arrived. Pa had fired them a few days back. He'd never explained why.

Virgil Stanley and his older brother, Earl.

Adam continued to think things through as best he could as he bounced along on Scout's back. He'd shifted enough that he could watch the landscape pass by so he also made sure to note any unusual trees or rock formations. He was hoping against hope that, when he found a way to escape, he would be able to locate Hoss and the two of them would return home and lead their father and a posse back into the hills to take these men. It was Hoss the men were talking about. It had to be. Little Joe was safe. He was sure of that. Joe wouldn't be stupid enough to try to follow them when he couldn't see.

Adam groaned.

It was Joe he was thinking about, after all.

"God," he muttered under his breath, "wherever that little scamp is, keep him safe."

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Little Joe Cartwright crouched down behind a scrubby bush. His fingers were entwined in the rumpled fur of his dog's neck and he clung to Rogue like a lifeline. All around him were the sounds of late afternoon – wind rushing through the trees, predatory birds calling to one another as they wheeled through the sky, water crashing over rocks, cows lowing and horses neighing. As he couldn't really see – the light kind of blinded him – he found all the noise a little bit overwhelming. More than once he'd thought of turning back, but he just couldn't. He had to find Hoss – had to make his brother know it was okay. As soon as he'd given Hop Sing the slip, he'd held a piece of Hoss' clothing under Rogue's nose and told him to 'seek'. The dog had taken off like a shot, leading him straight into the woods behind the house and then into the trees. He felt bad about tricking Hop Sing – he'd told the Chinese man that he and Rogue were going fishing for the day and that he'd got permission from his father before he left. Hop Sing was busy dealing with a man who had come by the house with a wagonload of goods to trade and he'd just nodded his head and wished him out of his way. He'd have to think of some way to make it up to his friend. Maybe he could do all of Hop Sing's fetching for a month or so.

If he made it back home, that was.

As he and Rogue had moved through the woods, searching for his middle brother, Joe couldn't help but think about Mystery. He was sure she hadn't meant to hurt him. From the first time he'd seen her, he was certain that the mare had wanted to be friends. It was funny, her being bothered by her name. He wondered if it was the actual word that upset her or just the sound of it. Mystery. Could've been 'history' or maybe, 'misery'.

Whatever it was, she sure wasn't happy about it.

As Joe sat there, considering what it all meant, Rogue growled low in his throat. The boy caught the dog around the middle and pulled him in close and remained stock-still. Since his eyes had been damaged, Joe's other senses had increased. He heard it too – the sound of men moving through the trees a little ways off to their left. Whispering in Rogue's ear, Joe told the dog to be quiet and then retreated further into the underbrush.

"I thought Earl didn't believe in that mumbo-jumbo you're always spouting, Virg What's this about taking that Cartwright kid and leaving him in the cave with the others?" a man asked.

"Earl believes it, all right. He just pretends he don't. He's seen her same as me and he knows there's only one way to get rid of her."

The horses appeared suddenly. Their riders were almost on him.

Joe didn't breath.

"What makes Earl think this one's gonna satisfy her?"

"He don't. It's that little one she wants. You saw how she took to him. Earl says since we got this one, we'll use him as bait to get the other one."

"What about their pa? Old man Cartwright watches them boys of his like a hawk."

"You just don't get it, do you, Thom? That's where Earl was right smart," Virgil answered. "He took out that lumberjack. Ben Cartwright ain't home. He's heading north to the camp to deal with the trouble. There's no one with the kid but the Chink."

Chink?

A hollow pit opened in Joe's stomach. They were talking about him! But also someone else.

Just who were they going to use as bait?

Still holding Rogue, Joe inched forward, narrowing his eyes and willing them to work. The sun was nearly down and the twilight didn't hurt them as much as the day and so he was able to see. Sort of. There was a third horse stopped just behind the two men who were talking. Someone was bound and slung over its back. A man. A thin man with...black hair. A thin familiar man.

Adam.

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Hoss swallowed hard over the apple-sized lump in his throat. It was late afternoon and the light was dyin', but he could see clear enough where Mystery had led him. It was that lake cave. The one he and Little Joe had played in.

The one he'd run screamin' from after seein' somethin' white movin' in the dark.

It seemed a lifetime ago, but in reality it had been, maybe, two years. Adam had been finishin' up college just about the time it happened. That would of made him about the age Little Joe was now. He'd asked around after they got back to the ranch, but none of the hands seemed to know much of anythin' about it except that there was a rumor that a ghost haunted at least one of the caves. He'd kept askin' all kinds of questions, makin' a nuisance of himself, until his pa caught him at it one day and was mad enough to threaten to tan his hide if he didn't forget about it and get back to work.

The mare was standin' in front of the cave now, waitin'. She'd been all restless energy as they climbed the hill in front of it. Now she was still as one of them statues in San Francisco; the ones that looked so real you checked 'em every so often just to see whether or not they was breathin'.

"What's in there, girl?" Hoss asked, his voice crackin' like it hadn't done since he'd been his little brother's age.

The mare didn't answer, of course. Instead, she shook her thick mane and pinned him with those big black eyes of hers. It kind of reminded him of baby brother pullin' one of his faces. Not the kind that was meant to charm your socks off so he could get what he wanted, but the kind where Little Joe was genuinely troubled and pert near to tears.

There was somethin' in that look of a creature that was livin' a nightmare and just wanted it to end.

"I sure wish you could talk, girl," Hoss said. "I ain't sayin' you ain't got a good reason for me to go in there, but I can tell you, I'd just as soon not."

Still, even as he said it, Hoss' feet were movin'. Land's sake, he was almost eighteen! Old enough to know better than to believe that what he saw in the bowels of that cave all those years ago was anythin' other than somethin' conjured up by his imagination, or maybe just a piles of bones left when some old prospector died in the dark.

Hoss shivered. Maybe that was what Mystery wanted.

Someone to find out which it was.

He was standin' next to the mare now and he looked right at her. "You comin' with me?" the teenager asked, half in jest and half hopin' she was.

Mystery nudged him forward and then turned and disappeared into the shadows cast by the high hill that were as dark as her coat.

Hoss shrugged and moved Chubb into the trees so she was hidden. After he tethered her, he lifted his rifle from the holster, returned to the entrance, and stepped in.

No sooner had the teenager entered the darkness then he heard a horse snort and the sound of multiple riders arriving. As several of them dismounted, he retreated farther into the cave. It had a sort of natural foyer at the front – a space about six feet deep and eight feet wide that was separated from the rest of it by a low-hanging ridge of rock. The opening under the ridge was high enough for a man to walk under, but not by much. Behind it was the bulk of the cave and it quickly plunged down into the earth. Hoss searched the front area quickly and found an outcropping of rock that was big enough for him to hide behind. Then he listened.

"You seen any sign of that loco mare?" a gruff-voiced man asked. "Them tracks of hers was leadin' this way."

"Not a lick or hair. Ain't seen that other Cartwright kid either," a younger voice answered. The man paused and then added, his voice low, "I'm tellin' you, Earl. She's here somewhere. She's gotta be. She's always watchin'."

"OH, she's here all right." The older man paused and then he said, his tone hard. "It won't be long, bitch."

"How come you ain't just shot that animal, Earl?" a third man asked. "A dead horse ain't no threat."

"Don't you think I tried!" Earl all but screamed. "The damn thing won't die!"

"You're crazy as a shithouse rat, Earl."

"And your gonna be dead, Thom!" the older man snapped. "Why don't you just shut up and do what you were hired to do. Then you can take your part of the loot and high-tail it back to Virginny and that ugly woman of yours."

"What I was hired to do? I didn't sign on to kill a kid," Thom countered sharply.

Earl's voice took on an ominous tone. "We ain't gonna kill him. We're just gonna make a nice cozy home for him down there in the dark and leave him there to rot along with that loco horse." There was a pause. "Now get Cartwright off of that horse and make him write that letter!"

Hoss stiffened. Cartwright? He shifted forward so he could follow Thom's movement and saw him go over to a pack horse. Once there the outlaw cut something loose. It fell to the ground with a grunt and a thud. At first, from what the men had said, he feared it was Little Joe. Then he realized the man was too big.

It had to be Adam!

As Thom dealt with Adam, who struggled against him, Earl and Virgil turned and headed for the cave. Hoss look into the darkness behind him, half expectin' to see a white vapor risin' up and swirlin' around.

Sucking it in, he slipped past the rocky outcropping and moved farther into the cave's interior.

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Adam had been unceremoniously dropped on the ground and then rather roughly thrust up against a tree. Both his hands and feet were tied and he was gagged. He'd tried the ropes, but the knots were expertly done and there was nothing he could do to loosen them. The black-haired man watched the outlaws who were with the Stanleys move about, all busy with various chores. The one who was fixing their supper, he noticed, stopped several time to throw a handful of salt over his shoulder as if to ward of evil spirits. Criminals were, for the most part, cowards and often prone to superstition. Something had Earl Stanley convinced that the black mare he and Hoss had brought home was possessed by some sort of malevolent spirit. These men were terrified. So terrified that they were willing to sacrifice the life of a little boy to break free of its spell.

His brother's life.

From what Earl said it seemed the outlaws had meant to kidnap Little Joe, but for some reason the plan had fallen through. In a way, the reason might have been Mystery herself. Joe was obsessed with the horse and he had begged their father to let him do all the barn and stable chores instead of working out in the field so he could be close to her. For some reason, their pa had given in even though he didn't like the mare. Now that he thought about it, his father had kept a pretty close watch on Little Joe the last few days and had seemed nervous when one or the other of them couldn't immediately tell him where he was.

Now he understood why.

Leaning his head back, Adam pretended to close his eyes but in reality studied the men holding him. One was still working on the meal. Earl and the man named Thom stood off to the left of the cave, arguing. Virgil was pacing back and forth in front the opening, while the two remaining outlaws were moving in and out of the brush surrounding the cave mouth. Adam concentrated on the one closest to hand, trying to make out what it was the man carried. It looked like a rope, or maybe a –

Adam froze.

Something that felt like a wet rug had rubbed against his bound hands.

"What the Devil...?" he mumbled into the rag that was tied around his mouth.

Adam felt fingers move through his hair and the rag dipped a bit. "It ain't the devil, Adam," a hushed voice replied as he felt those fingers move to the ropes that bound his wrists. "It's me. Little Joe."

Adam's eyes closed for real this time. In prayer.

Dear God.

Little Joe.

No...

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Danged if it weren't big brother Adam out there, tied up under a tree! When the two men had come and gone, Hoss had slowly and carefully worked his way back toward the front of the cave until he was about ten feet from the opening. It wasn't easy, since the sun had set, but he'd identified them as the mean-looking pair of hands Pa had hired and fired within the last fortnight. Pa wouldn't say why, so he'd asked Jim Appleby. Jim had stumbled around but finally admitted that one of the men had caught the pair trailing Little Joe home from school one day. So it was funny that it was Adam who was trussed up. But then, if all the outlaws wanted was ransom money, one Cartwright son would do as good as the other. They'd probably thought Little Joe would be less trouble to take since he was just twelve.

Hoss snorted. Showed what them two knowed!

As the teenager watched, his brother Adam shifted, lifting his body up a little higher. Then he seemed to say somethin', even though there was nobody to hear. Big brother had a gag in his mouth but it was a right funny one, with its ends trailin' down on either side of his face like he was grippin' it with his teeth and fightin' to keep it in place. Hoss growled low in his throat as he watched Adam struggle. Trapped as he was in the cave, there weren't much he could do to help. There were just too many men in front of it for him to try slippin' out. All he could do was wait and hope they brung Adam into the cave. Then maybe he could free him and they could overpower the men, jump a couple of horses, and head back to the house to warn Hop Sing and Little Joe. They might even run into Pa on the road. If he knew his father, the older man was probably on the road. His pa would have come lookin' for him, ridin' through the night if he had to, in order to make things right.

Hoss frowned as he saw Adam jerk. Then he understood why. Adam was rubbin' his wrist with his fingers. Big brother's hands were free.

Problem was, the outlaws saw it too.

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"He's escaping!" Thom shouted as he drew his pistol.

Earl Stanley whipped around to look at the tree where he'd left Ben Cartwright's eldest son trussed up. Damn! if that boy hadn't worked his hands free and was reaching for the ropes on his feet. The older man palmed his own weapon and started to run as Adam rose and turned toward the trees.

"I got you in my sights, Cartwright," he shouted. "Don't be stupid!"

The dark-haired youth halted and turned back, his hands up. "Don't shoot. You caught me."

Earl scowled. He was givin' in too easy. The outlaw began to move again even as his brother Virgil called out, "There's another one, Earl! In the trees... I think it's the kid!"

Well, he'd be hornswoggled! No wonder Adam Cartwright had his hands free and no wonder he'd been makin' for the trees. With his gun trained on his former employer's oldest son, Earl shouted, "You come on out, boy! I know you're there!"

Adam's skin paled to match the light color of his shirt. "Little Joe run!" he cried. "Run, now!"

"You run, boy, and I'll shoot your brother between the eyes," Earl countered, meaning it. "You got five seconds to surrender, you hear me, boy? On six, your brother Adam's dead. One!'

"Joe, don't do it! Run! That's an order!" Adam shouted.

There was movement behind him. Leaves rustled and a dog yapped.

"Two. Three."

"Adam, he'll kill you!" a small voice cried.

"It's you they want, Joe. Run! Go get Pa!"

Earl took another step toward him. His gun never waivered.

"Four, Little Joe," he said. "Five."

The outlaw put his finger on the trigger and aimed.

"You can just drop that, mister," a quiet, fierce voice spoke from behind him.

The older man pivoted on his feet.

Damned if wasn't the other one!

"Adam, I got him covered," Hoss Cartwright said as he advanced to the outside of the cave carrying a rifle and aiming it at his heart. The teenager remained close to the hill, careful to remain sheltered from his other men.

"Put your hands up!" he ordered.

"There's five of us, boy," Earl drawled. "All armed. Think about what you're doin'. You shoot me and one of them is gonna take out your big brother there before you can make a move to save him."

"But you'll be dead," the giant teen snarled. "Just you think about that."

The oldest Cartwright son was on the move. Earl watched him stumble due to poor circulation. The boy headed for their cook, who was frozen to the spot, and pulled the gun from his holster.

"Now its two to five," Adam breathed.

"Adam! I only count four men!" Hoss shouted. "There's five outlaws! One of them's missin'!" He looked around, panicked. "Where's Joe? Joe! Come out! Little Joe!"

Earl scoffed as the teenager's eyes widened. The brat came out all right – in Thom's arms with the barrel of a pistol pressed into his prissy pampered curls.

"I'd drop your weapons," Earl said, his voice low and sinister. "Unless you want to see your little brother's brains splashed halfway across the Nevada territory."

The eldest boy went limp. The pistol dropped from his fingers to the ground. "Do as he says, Hoss."

The teenager hesitated. Earl could see it in his eyes. The boy was weighing the threat. He simply couldn't believe a grown man would kill a child in cold blood.

Little did he know.

"Hoss! Drop it now!" Adam Cartwright ordered. "He'll kill Little Joe!"

'Little Joe' was squirmin' like the little monster he was, tryin' to break free. Earl scoffed. The kid had better watch it. For all he'd protested, Thom had killed plenty and he had an itchy finger.

With a sigh, Hoss lowered his rifle and tossed it on the ground.

Earl sneered. It was over. They had all three of Ben Cartwright's boys, but most of all they had the little one. Now that bitch would be satisfied. Now –

Thom yelped.

The brat had bit him!

Thom let out a whoop as he dropped his gun. It went off as it hit the ground, sendin' gun-smoke back into the man's eyes. Earl growled as the idiot flailed around, trying to catch the kid who was slipperier than snot. He'd just have to do it himself! Turning his gun butt first, Earl Stanley charged toward the Cartwright kid.

He was gonna use it to knock some sense into that little son-of-a-bitch's head!

As the outlaw advanced, there was a sound. A shrill scream such as he had only heard one other time in his life. Rising out of the gun-smoke like a wraith, the black mare appeared. She reared up on her back legs and then struck the ground with the sound of thunder. Little Joe Cartwright was on the move. The boy's fingers gripped the horse's black mane as she came down and he swung onto her back easy an aerialist took to the trapeze. The mare reared again, almost throwing the kid off her back and then, to the surprise of them all, plunged into the cave and disappeared.

Adam Cartwright was running too. He shot past shoutin' out something to his brother. The teenager, who was standing by the cave mouth, pivoted on his heel and followed him in.

Earl Stanley's lips curled with satisfaction.

Signaling the man who held the trigger for the charges they had laid along the opening into the hill, the grizzled outlaw told him to let it blow.

He'd be damned if that black bitch hadn't done his work for him!