Part 4

Joe rode the rest of the day and through the night and arrived in Salt Flats early the next morning. He felt as if a fire burned inside him and as he traveled, he talked to Adam.

"I'm going to find those men, that Jim Gann and that Frank, and I swear to you, Adam, if I have to beat them to death, I will, but I'm going to find out what happened to you and where you are. You just wait for me, Adam. I'm coming to get you as soon as I can."

What was eating at Joe the most was when he had said, "I'll go with you as far as a hot bath…" He should have gone with Adam on the hunting trip. Together, they could have handled anything but he had let Adam go off into the wilderness alone and now Adam had been missing, had been gone for five days. Joe tried to tell himself Adam was still alive and images of a parched Adam dragging himself across hot rocks kept popping up in Joe's mind. He would try to chase away the pictures but they kept coming back, haunting him, along with an image of Adam lying in the dust while buzzards hopped around him, just waiting until he became too weak to swat them away. And then there would be nothing left of his brother.

"Just hold on, Adam. Just hold on. I'm coming to find you. Hold on."

It was dawn when Joe rode into Salt Flats; the streets were still quiet, no one out and about. He tied his horse outside the sheriff's office and walked in. A large man in a blue shirt had his back to the door as he was bent over a washstand.

"You the sheriff?" Joe asked.

The man turned around quickly; he was obviously startled. Joe noticed the tin badge on his shirt.

"Yeah, I'm the sheriff. Name's Smith. I guess I should move my washstand so my back's not to the door. The young man in front of him didn't smile; he had a serious expression and his eyes were sad. "Anything I can do for you?" He continued to wipe his wet face and then dried his hands.

"I hope so. I'm looking for two men; one named Jim Gann and the other named Frank."

"Frank Preston?"

"Could be."

"Well, you're too late. Last night they decided to shoot up the town and some of the good citizens, including me. I have them stretched out in the back room."

Joe let out a heavy sigh; he hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath. He was overwhelmed with lost hope—he would get no answers from Gann and Preston.

"What's your name, son?"

"Cartwright. Joe Cartwright."

The sheriff walked over to his desk, opened a drawer and took out a long, thin, black wallet that had a slight curve in it. Joe recognized it. The curve was from Adam putting it in his back pocket so often.

"They had quite a bit of money on them—close to four thousand between them. They'd already spent a good part of it gambling and drinking. I found this on them," The sheriff held up the wallet, "with a bill of sale for cattle made out to Adam Cartwright tucked inside."

"That's my brother Adam's wallet and he had just shy of five thousand on him when he left Eastgate. I think those two robbed him—they may have killed him."

"I'm sorry, son. Here. Just sign off on this form and the wallet and money is yours." The sheriff pulled out a form that had listed on it all the personal property of both dead men. Joe signed the form and Sheriff Smith handed the wallet to Joe. He held the smooth, leather wallet in his hand. He had seen Adam pull it out so many times and it was bent to the curve of his body.

"If I can help you with anything…"

Joe looked up and then tucked the wallet inside his shirt. "Where's the telegraph office?"

"Three doors down. Turn right. Why?"

"I need to wire my family that my brother-might be dead." And Joe walked out. He was sick to his stomach and ducked into an alley to vomit. He retched and since his stomach was empty, all that came up was bitter bile. But Adam, he thought, might still be alive. After all, what did he actually know about Adam's disappearance?

"No one knows anything," Adam said, his black hair tousled from sleep. "All we know is that Vannie Johnson was killed and three men were seen riding away. These may not even be the men and if they are, they may have comes across her dead body and just ridden off, afraid that they would be accused."

"But, Adam, what if they are the men?" Joe knew what he wanted Adam to say; that it is was all right to stand back and watch the three men hang if the posse caught up with them.

Adam and Joe had left Virginia City a day earlier with a duly-sworn posse to bring back three men who had been seen leaving the Johnson's house. Vannie Johnson was found dead; she had been raped and strangled. A posse was formed and Adam and Joe had gone along, Adam, hoping to be the voice of reason. The group had been drinking that evening at a bar outside a lumber camp and were talking about lynching the men as soon as they found them, having already decided the men were guilty. So Joe, after waking up and realizing that it was Vannie's son's crying that had woken him, began to consider how he would feel were he in his place and his mother violated and killed.

What would his father have done in that situation? What would Adam have thought about lynching the suspected men? People's actions, Joe decided, depended on where they stood in relation to the crime. It was easy to be rational and to follow the letter of the law as long as the crime wasn't against your own blood. So Joe had woken up Adam and asked him about whether or not Adam would fight a whole posse or allow them to lynch the men.

"Maybe they are the men who did all that to Mrs. Johnson." Joe said.

"But what if they're not? What if they're innocent? Do you want to have a hand in hanging three innocent men?"

"I…I don't know, Adam. I mean, what if we knew? What if we knew they were guilty?"

"But we don't know. Joe—no one knows yet but God and unless you have a visiting angel to pass along a message to you, then you know nothing either. The men are innocent until it's proved they're not."

"But what if they confess? What then? Do we fight our friends? Do we pull guns on them to defend murderers?"

"Yes, Joe. If we have to fight our friends for what is right, then we will. And their guilt or innocence is a matter for the law to decide—not us. A man has a right to his day in court, to a proper defense."

"But Paiute says…"

"Don't listen to that blowhard. He doesn't know any more than you or me or anyone else. Now just go to sleep. We have an early start in the morning." Adam turned over placing his back to Joe and pulled his blanket back up around his ears.

Joe stared at Adam's back a few more seconds. "Adam, what if it was Pa? What if Pa had been killed and they were seen riding away from the Ponderosa? Would you feel the same way about bringing them in safe?"

Adam lay still and Joe waited, watching. He knew that Adam was considering his questions. Then quietly, Adam said, "Go to sleep, Joe. It's too late at night to be talking about such things."

And then Joe lay down, resting his head on his saddle, and pulled his blanket up to keep out the night chill. But he still had trouble sleeping.

Adam was right as usual; they didn't know anything except that they were after three men and their job was to deliver them safely to Virginia City for trial. Joe knew that he needed to listen to his older brother but yet…he knew that were it personal, Adam's decision wouldn't be so cut and dried. And Joe suddenly felt a closer kinship with his oldest brother; he knew that Adam struggled as well. But they were Cartwrights and no matter what, Cartwrights always attempted to do what was most honorable. And Joe decided that Adam was correct and there was no reason to have any more doubts that they were doing the right thing. He would stand alongside Adam even if it meant turning a gun on his neighbors. After all, the posse didn't know anything about the men's guilt; no one knew anything at all.

Joe didn't know how to word the telegram to his father and Hoss. He didn't know that Adam was dead and he wasn't sure that even if he did, he would send it in a telegram. Finally he wrote: Adam is missing five days. Meet me in Salt Flats.

And after Joe wrote it, he felt the tears well in his eyes; looking at the words on paper brought it home and made it more real, but he wiped his nose and tossed the money on the counter.

"My name's Joe Cartwright. When the wire comes for me, bring it to me immediately. I'll make it worth your time."

"Yes, sir. Where you gonna be?"

"Grabbing something to eat. If I'm not there, I'll be at a hotel. Which one do you recommend?"

"They's only one hotel and the restaurant's on the bottom floor. Can't miss it."

Joe nodded and left. "I don't know Adam's dead," Joe thought. "I don't really know anything except that two men are dead who sold Adam's horse and that they had Adam's wallet. But maybe Adam's horse was spooked and threw him and took off and those men found it and the wallet in the saddle bags." And Joe tried to convince himself that was a credible possibility. But he knew it wasn't. Maybe coffee would clear his head.

TBC