While he was tossing hay into the horses' feedracks Adam heard his father speaking with Charlie outside the barn.
"Sure, boss, I'll keep an eye on your wife. Don't matter to me it's Sunday. Too bad the boys ain't back from town, but they'd be maybe too hung over to help, I guess. If there weren't so much work with the new pasture in the north I'd say you should fire them, too. But I'm sure you will find Hoss, maybe better without them."
"I hope so!"
"Sure you will, boss. Good luck and God's blessing with you!"
The ache in Adam's stomach lessened as he heard the certainty in his experienced friend's voice.
By the time he and his father had eaten their hasty breakfast three of the neighbors had arrived, and Marie carried mugs of coffee for them all out to the yard where they waited for the other two to arrive.
A few minutes later they heard approaching hoofbeats and swallowed their last gulps of coffee quickly, but the arrival wasn't one of the latecoming neighbors. Instead, a middle-aged stranger in fancy clothes came riding into the yard.
"Good morning, gentlemen, ma'am!" The man touched the brim of his hat courteously as he greeted them. "Please, excuse me for interrupting, but have you seen a canvas-covered wagon with a pinto horse pulling it? My wife...well, it's been five days since I've seen her. Has she come this way?"
"I'm sorry," his father answered. "My little son has been missing, too, since yesterday. We're forming a posse to look for him-there are the last ones coming-and we have to leave now. But if we should meet with a wagon like that, well..."
Adam stopped listening to his father's speech. He didn't like how the stranger was watching him so intensely.
"Your missing son-does he look like this one?" the stranger asked, still staring hard at Adam.
"No, Eric is blond and has blue eyes. You'd never take them for brothers."
"And this...Eric...how old is he?"
"Now just why are you asking so many questions about my boy? And may I ask your name?"
To Adam's relief, his father had come to stand beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. The stranger, a big man with light gray hair, nodded and said in a calmer voice, "I'm sorry for being so abrupt. My name is Baker, John Baker, and I think I may be able to help you."
Adam could feel his father's impatience as he responded, "I'm Ben Cartwright. Help how?"
"Is your missing boy around seven or eight?"
"No, only five-but he's big for his age. And what has that to do with anything?"
"It's very possible that we have the same problem. I think your boy may be with my wife."
Marie's shrill voice broke into their conversation. "Mon dieu! Ben, this woman has kidnapped Hoss!"
"Ma'am, please don't worry..."
"He says his wife kidnapped our son and I'm not to worry!" Even though Marie's voice hurt Adam's ears he found himself agreeing with her completely.
"Ma'am, I...please let me explain..."
Ben put an arm around the trembling Marie, while Adam glared at the stammering man, full of suspicion. What could this man know about Hoss?
"My wife is, let us say, a troubled woman." John Baker licked his lips. "In the spring...well, the last few years it hasn't happened, but when it does, it's always in the spring...it was spring when we lost our little boy. Norman died of fever when we were crossing the prairie. He was only two years old...he'd be eight now." The man had to clear his throat before continuing. "We have two daughters still. The oldest one is preparing for her wedding; she and her sister are staying with her fiance's family. I was away on a business trip and my wife was at home alone. She must have had a new exacerbation." Adam had never heard the word before but guessed its meaning, especially when Mr. Baker continued, "She took our old wagon and started to search for her boy again. Once a few years ago she had come across a little blond boy." With a look at Marie he went on hastily, "She didn't harm him at all. The boy was happy with her; I don't think he ever realized she had kidnapped him. It's just...Gloria has never gotten over Norman's death." The man's voice grew even lower. "Her soul has been damaged somehow ever since."
Watching his father and Marie, Adam was surprised to see Marie's face soften. Could the story of a woman losing her son be somehow more important to her than her fears for Hoss?
But when she spoke, Adam decided she was still worried. "She wouldn't hurt Hoss?"
"No, she wouldn't. I promise you."
"But where is she, then? Because we haven't seen her!" Marie's voice was getting shrill again.
"At least it's easier to find a wagon than a little boy," his father said. Adam knew Ben was trying to sound optimistic to calm his wife down-but was she really as upset as his father thought?
Without losing any more time, Ben divided the posse into two groups and gave out his orders. "If anyone finds Hoss, fire three shots, and if the wagon is there too, fire another three times after that."
"Please," the stranger begged. "Give a signal if anyone finds my wife but not the boy."
That made Adam feel uncomfortable again and his father also glared briefly at the man before saying, "Four shots in that case. We'll meet here again at dusk if no one finds anything. Mr. Baker, Adam, we'll go back and search the creek again. If there was someone with Hoss, maybe carrying him, the thorny bushes wouldn't be a problem for him."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Adam reached the riverside before the others and dismounted quickly to begin his search through the bushes. He was sure there had to be a trail to show where Hoss had gone, but even wearing sturdy boots it was difficult going, and soon his legs, bare under his baggy trousers, were badly scratched. He could hear his father and the stranger, both examining the far side of the creek, so Adam knew he had to be very thorough in searching this bank by himself. The closest he came to finding a sign of Hoss was some pellets of rabbit scat, though, and he had to admit it looked more like what an adult wild one would make. Adam tried to keep from being frustrated. There had to be some trace of his brother; he had to find it!
"Adam, come here! I need to show you something!"
The shout from the other side of the creek sent him leaping upright and splashing at top speed through the water towards the other bank. He reached his father wet to the waist and out of breath.
"Is this Hoss's?" His father was holding out a blue-banded marble on the palm of his hand.
For a moment he could only nod and gasp for air, but he recognized it at once; he himself had given that marble to his brother the previous Christmas.
"It's Hoss's second best marble, Pa. He must have been here and lost it."
Ben looked back at the rocky edge of the creek. "This would be a good place to get fresh water. Maybe a person...maybe that man's wife was here after all. But on this stony ground, tracking's so difficult..."
"Mr. Cartwright, look!" Mr. Baker yelled from a dozen yards away. He was holding something between his thumb and forefinger that glittered. Another marble! "Could your boy be marking a trail on purpose? It would be very clever for a five-year-old."
"My brother's very clever, Mr. Baker," Adam shouted back. "Plenty clever enough for that!"
It didn't take them long to find a third and a fourth marble, leading them through the thorny undergrowth into more open grassland. They remounted their horses and rode slowly along the faint indications of a trail, keeping their eyes on the ground. The grass was bent down in places and there were even a few adult-sized footprints, but the colorful balls of glass were the only sign that Hoss had come that way. Adam carefully gathered them all up. Except for his rabbits, his pocketful of marbles was what Hoss had always treasured most.
After riding for about half a mile, they found a large ruby marble. "His favorite!" Adam declared, rolling it between his fingers.
But however diligently they searched they couldn't find any more. "He must have saved his favorite for last," Adam's father decided. "He's run out of marbles."
"What now, Pa?" Adam felt his hope ebb away.
His father looked uphill in the direction they'd been riding. "We haven't seen any hoof prints or ruts from wagon wheels, so they-I'm guessing Hoss and that woman were together-they must have been walking. If they are still walking, we have horses and can catch up to them, and if they get back to her wagon there will be more of a trail to follow. We'll have to split up so we can cover more ground."
Adam could tell his father wasn't just saying something to comfort him, and began to feel hopeful again.
Ben continued planning aloud. "I'll turn off to the left here. Mr. Baker, would you take the right side?" Mr. Baker nodded agreement. "And you, Adam, continue straight ahead. Fanning out like that we're sure to find something. After half an hour we'll come back here and compare notes. Adam, can you hold the direction and know when you'll have to turn back?"
Typically Pa, Adam thought to himself. "Sure, Pa. You taught me how to follow a straight bearing when I was a baby."
"Adam!" came a snapped retort. Pa didn't like that sort of remark, Adam knew, and he was bracing for a reprimand about his disrespect when his father surprised him by giving him a lopsided smile instead. "Sorry, son. Sometimes I forget you grew up in a wagon. I know you won't have any problems, but be careful! Let's go!"
Pa must be really worried about Hoss to let something like that pass, Adam thought. I should be more considerate and not anger him. Feeling a solemn responsibility for the task before him, he spurred his pony and rode on up the hill.