"Take another look, Hop Sing. Is he the man who shot Ben Cartwright?" Roy Coffee stood with Hop Sing outside the cell where Uriah Sawyer half-reclined on his cot, glaring at the small Chinese man.

"Not sure. Hop Sing not see man too good."

Sawyer swung his legs around and stood up. "I told you I didn't do it and since you have no evidence against me, I'd appreciate if you'd let me go. I am so damn sick and tired of this place…" He picked up his hat and put it on.

"Now settle down, Sawyer. I'll release you in due time. Give me a few minutes to fill out the paperwork first. C'mon, Hop Sing." Roy led Hop Sing out who glanced back at Sawyer before the double doors were shut.

"Well?" Adam asked, looking to Hop Sing and Roy. Roy had asked Adam to wait in the outer office while he took Hop Sing to the cells—"…just to eliminate any undue influence."

Hop Sing shook his head. "Not sure, Mistah Adam. Cannot say if that the man or not."

Adam gave a sigh of frustration and turned halfway on his heel. "What about the clothes? Are those the clothes the man was wearing?"

"Adam," Roy said, "you need to back down from this accusation. I know that you've been right before and you may be right about Sawyer but legally, I have to let him go—and return his gun. Just because your father was shot by a .45, well, you carry a .45, I carry a .45 and most 'bout everyone does. And if you want my advice…"

"I don't." Adam stood with his hands on his hips. He was frustrated and felt like a fool and that made him sour. He knew from the start that by bringing in Sawyer, he was acting without sound evidence and knew that the whole case against Sawyer would collapse because it had no foundation. He wasn't really angry with Roy or Hop Sing but with himself for acting too soon. What would Matilda think of him?

"I'm going to give it to you anyway—stay away from Sawyer. You'll be lucky if he doesn't press charges against you for his…accident. Now take Hop Sing home. I have to return Sawyer's .45 and if he's the cold-blooded killer you think he is, you need to put quite a bit of gone between you and him before I release him. It'll take about ten minutes to complete the evidence form, that is if I work slower than usual."

"Didn't know that was possible," Adam said and then he regretted his comment. Adam had a long-standing respect for Roy, actually loved the man who had been a family friend for so long and who had vouched for him and his integrity so many times in the past. "I'm sorry, Roy. I didn't…"

"Don't worry about it," Roy said placing a firm hand on Adam's shoulder. "Your pa up for visitors? I'd like to see him."

"Give him another day. He's still on laudanum and spends most of his time sleeping."

"Okay. I'll come out and visit your pa tomorrow-Tuesday night." Roy turned to Hop Sing. "I was hoping that maybe you'd make your chicken and dumplings if I visit around dinner time."

Hop Sing grinned and even Adam had to smile at the sudden joy that spread across the cook's face. "I cook three chickens and big pot of dumplings! Maybe Mistah Roy like berry pie?"

"I love berry pie—any kind of berry pie with that flaky crust you make." Hop Sing and Adam turned to leave and Roy sent them on their way with his regards for Hoss and Joe and especially Ben.

~ 0 ~

Early that morning before he had driven Hop Sing into town, before it was obvious that there was no evidence against the man, Adam had arrived at the Rocking G. There were lights on in the house and in the bunkhouse but all was quiet until a man stepped out from the dark holding a rifle.

"Oh, it's you," the man said. "Grady said you were here yesterday—told him to stand guard. I relieved him at 1:00."

Adam dismounted. "Any disturbance last night?"

"Nope. Quiet as a whorehouse on Sunday."

Adam smiled. "Good. They serving up breakfast?" Adam motioned toward the bunkhouse with his head. "I swear I smell fatback frying."

"That, biscuits and coffee. Funny how smells'll get your stomach going."

"Let's go eat then. I promised Mrs. Gregson that I'd set up the jobs for today."

Adam led his horse to the bunkhouse and the ranch hand named Walker strolled beside him, his rifle over his arm. "Heard about your pa bein' shot. How is he?"

"He had a good night—on the mend." They had reached the hitching rail outside the bunkhouse and Adam tied his horse. "I could sure use some coffee. I left before it was made."

The ranch hands ate their breakfast at a long trestle table and they listened to their jobs during the meal but Adam had first asked them what they felt needed doing. It seemed to make the men more affable and willing to follow direction. Adam also knew that sharing a meal helped form a relationship and so he laughed along with them as they insulted the hand who cooked while the whole time they ate the buttered biscuits crispy fat back and scrambled eggs.

"Mind if I ask why you're here and not on your own place?" one of the men asked.

"I told Mrs. Gregson that I'd help out while Sawyer's gone."

"From what I heard, you're the reason Sawyer's not here." The men looked surreptitiously at one another as Adam toyed with his coffee mug, spinning it around on the table top.

'That's true. I took him into Sheriff Coffee. I suspect he may have shot my father." Adam downed the rest of his coffee.

"What if Sawyer don't come back?" one of the men asked

Adam looked around the table at the men. "Then Mrs. Gregson will have to appoint another foreman. Now that everyone knows how they're going to spend their day, I have to get about mine." He stood up and picked up his hat from the bunk post on which he had hung it. "If you need anything, just send word to the Ponderosa. Anyone there will help you." Adam left the men to head for home.

"What do you think about that?" one of the men said to the others at the table. "He takes Sawyer in to jail and then the Missus puts him in charge."

Rudy, the oldest hand who now did the cooking due to his arthritis said, "You haven't been here all that long—none of you have 'cept me so you don't remember, but before he left for duty, Adam Cartwright and the Missus were on their way to marriage; he was sure sweet on her."

"I can understand why," Grady said. "Damn but she's one good-lookin' woman. Always wondered about her and Sawyer with him sleepin' in the shed aside the house. Wondered if he didn't sneak upstairs to see her now that her husband's dead."

"Naw," Noah, a ranch hand no more than twenty, said, "women ain't got the same needs as men. "Sides, if she was gonna take anyone in, it'd be a handsome young cuss like me who could go all night! Not an old ugly cuss like Sawyer." He grinned and the others groaned in derision while the man sitting next to him ruffled his hair.

"She wouldn't want a boy when she could have a man," another man said. "And I'd volunteer."

They all laughed but then quiet settled over them as they finished their meal.

"Rudy," Grady asked, "Since they was sweet on each other, Mrs. Gregson and Cartwright, why do you think she didn't ask him to service her once she was, you know, alone? Widowed?"

"I don't think she's like that. Besides Paul Gregson had a real good hate for Adam. Guess he was jealous of Adam or something since he and Mrs. Gregson, well, like I said, they were headin' for marriage and such but Gregson always talked bad about him and all the other Cartwrights too. Said that Ben Cartwright had stolen most of his land, that they think they're the lords of the west, that they're God's chosen and all sorts of trash like that. I think that he would've even slandered Adam when it came to her—would've said awful things about Adam's relationship with Mrs. Gregson just to make people think bad about him, if she hadn't been his wife. Don't know that anyone believed what Gregson had to say—it was ugly stuff and you don't know the half of it—especially when he was drunk-but you know how people are, they love a good story and as nice as the Cartwrights are, well, it makes it easy to hate them. No man wants to be beholden to another and them Cartwrights, they're always so generous that it makes a man feel like he's a pitiful creature. You want to make a man hate you? Do him a favor, bail him out, help him through hard times and then ask for nothing in return. I guarantee he'll hate you."