Chapter 7 "Jailhouse Rock"

Sheriff Miles Harmon ushered the three men into the jail cell. Standing in the door, he eyed the three as they each sat gingerly on the two cots in the cell. "Y'all mind telling me what on earth you were thinking when you busted up that saloon? We don't take kindly to strangers coming into our nice peaceful town and busting things up..."

He eyed each man individually and waited for a reply. Each man, however, had their eyes firmly focused on their boots, not ready to volunteer any information.

The Sheriff sighed, "All right, how about your names then?"

Still, much to the ire of the Sheriff, no one answered. He turned to the dirtiest of the three men and leveled an accusatory finger, "You, in the black shirt—name. Then I want you to tell me exactly what happened tonight. And, you better give me a straight answer or I'll let the saloon owner, Pete come in here and beat it out of ya. Last I saw, he was burnin' mad and I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to give you a good beating..."

Adam sighed and looked up at the sheriff, then turned his gaze back to the floor. "The name's Adam Cartwright, and these are my two brothers, Hoss and Joe Cartwright. The fight was caused because my youngest brother here lost all of our money, like the irresponsible fool he is."

Joe's head shot up, fury in his eyes. "Shut up Adam! If it wasn't for you we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place!"

Adam's eyes narrowed, pointing his finger at Joe he said angrily, "That was the last of our money Joe! You lost the last of our money, the money that was supposed to pay for our food and for our shelter! How much more irresponsible can you be than that?"

Joe stood up angrily and started to move toward Adam, intent on knocking him down a notch or two.

The sheriff saw the young man's advance and quickly stepped in between the kid and his older brother. "That's enough! I see I am going to have to separate you two," he grumbled. With a nod to Adam, he motioned for him to stand, "All right, you come with me..."

Adam stood up, grimacing from the pain the movement caused. He followed the Sheriff to the next cell. The sheriff opened the cell door, and Adam limped in. Turning to the form on the cell's bed, he yelled, "Hey! Frank, you got a new cell mate!"

The man on the bed stirred and lifted his head to take a look at his new companion. "Awe, come-on, sheriff; why'd you have to move him in here? He looks like he ain't bathed in a week!"

The sheriff couldn't help but smile when he saw Adam's eyes narrow at the comment. While Cartwright did look awfully dirty he felt inclined to defend the new prisoner with a witty retort of his own. "Now, Frank, I know you ain't bathed in at least two, so the smell can't be that bad."

Hoss and Joe both laughed at the last comment and earned their own deadly stare from their brother.

The Sheriff shook his head as he locked the door to the cell. He looked twice at the battered men in the cells and said, "I suppose I should get the doctor to see to those injuries y'all got durin' your fight; although I don't rightly think you deserve it. I ain't never seen men tear a place up like that..." Shaking his head, he started to walk back into his office. Stopping, he turned and spoke firmly to the new occupants of the town's jail, "And when I do bring the doctor I'll have some more questions for y'all, and this time I'll be expectin' some answers."

Hoss and Joe both sat down tiredly on the cots in their cell. Joe avoided looking over at Adam as he muttered, "I guess Pa's going to hear about all this..."

"Oh, rest assured, Pa is going to hear about this." Adam commented from the other cell. His aching head was cradled in his hands as he sat on his cot. "There's no way in hell he won't. We don't have enough money to make bail, and I have a feeling the Sheriff isn't going to let us leave this town without paying damages for the saloon, if that's all we get. We'll probably be prosecuted for public brawling."

Joe and Hoss frowned at the thought of facing their father after their recent fiascoes.

Frank, Adam's new cellmate listened to the three men as they contemplated their fate. He looked curiously at them. The two in the other cell appeared to be clean, well-off men, but his cellmate looked like he had just been picked up off the road. They were certain to have an interesting story.

Addressing his depressed cellmate, he asked, "Mind me asking where you fellas are from?"

"From around Virginia City, the Ponderosa Ranch." Adam did not lift his head as he spoke; it hurt too much to move.

"The Ponderosa Ranch?" Frank asked in surprise, "You fellas work there?"

"No, well, yes, in a way..." Adam replied, still not looking at Frank, "We live there. It's our Pa's ranch."

Frank nodded in disbelief, why he was sharing a cell with some of the richest men in Nevada! "You're kidding? Your Pa's Ben Cartwright? You sure don't look like no son of a rich man..." He scratched the stubble on his chin as he considered the new occupant of his cell.

Hoss and Joe began to snicker as they listened to Adam's interrogator balk at the very idea that their brother was not a Cartwright.

Adam lifted his head slightly and leveled an irritated gaze at his two brothers before he addressed his inquisitor. "Yes, well my story is sad and long, and unlike my two brothers, I have not been fortunate enough to get a bath or to have something to eat... Now, are you quite done?" Adam's voice was weary and bored.

Frank narrowed his eyes, "Yeah, I'm done. You don't have to be so snippy about it, I was only askin'."

Hoss scowled at Adam. He didn't need to take his bad temper out on anyone else. "Awe, Mister, don't take my brother's bad mood too personal. He's had a rough week, and he's hungry; he gets real crabby if he ain't eaten in a while."

Adam rolled his eyes. Exhausted, he decided that sleep was his best option for the time being. He gently lay down, his muscles protesting from the effort. With one arm flung over his eyes he attempted to block out his unpleasant surroundings.

Soon after the town's doctor, Omer Fillmore, arrived. He first attended to Hoss and Joe. He gently cleaned their cuts and put a soothing salve on the bruises that had been steadily appeared since their fight.

When his ministrations were finished the kind, elderly Doctor looked at Adam who still slept in the next cell. "Well, I suppose I should wake that one up and give him a checkup...."

Joe nodded, "Yeah, just be careful with that one. He ain't been in the best of moods lately..."

The Doc Fillmore gave him a questioning look, "He isn't going to be violent is he?"

"Nah, I wouldn't worry about it; just be sure you stay out of his reach..." Joe replied with a wink.

Joe smiled triumphantly at the prank he had just set up. The Doctor carefully and slowly approached the unlocked cell door. The Sheriff had left it unlocked, as he didn't think any of his 'guests' would try to move, let alone escape in their current condition. The Doctor walked slowly into the cell, as he considered the best method to wake his patient without provocation. With pursed lips he made a decision and stood at the foot of the cot. He hesitated only slightly before he tugged the boot of the sleeping man in an effort to wake him.

Adam frowned as he felt the tug on his boot and his dreams of a pleasant evening at the opera with the beautiful Ann Pierson had been rudely interrupted. Lifting his head, he looked at the Doctor with a perplexed expression. "What on Earth are you doing?" he asked incredulously.

Joe clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle the giggle that had nearly escaped when the Doctor looked at Hoss and him for encouragement. Hoss winked, and with a nod urged him to proceed.

Dr. Fillmore nodded. Swallowing nervously, he turned back to Adam. "I just wanted to have a look at you, Mr. Cartwright. Fix up some of those scratches and bruises you got in that fight."

Adam nodded and began to sit up. As he did so, the doctor backed up nervously. Adam glanced at him, confused by the doctor's strange behavior. Once he had stopped moving, the doctor sidled closer. Carefully, he proceeded to take out a swab and pour alcohol on it. "I just need to disinfect some of those there scratches."

Adam nodded in acknowledgment. The doctor nervously approached him and began to tend to the scratches on his face. One particular gash above his eye made Adam breath in sharply. The doctor backed away, out of his reach. "I'm, I'm sorry...."

Adam looked at him his eyes full of question, "What for, you're just doing your job. It just stung a little that's all..." he said as he carefully fingered the cut above his right eye.

The doctor sighed with relief and stepped closer to finish his ministrations. He had to change swabs several times from the amount of filth that came off Adam's face. Giggles continued to emanate from the adjoining cell as the doctor finished. Adam cast his brothers a suspicious glance; he knew they were up to something but what, he wasn't sure. He suspected it had something to do with the doctor's strange behavior, it was almost as if he expected Adam to slug him at any moment.

Finished tending Adam's wounds the doctor put away the remaining bandages in his bag. Once done he stood up and appraised the condition of his last patient once more. Although Adam did look slightly better he was not pleased with his patients sallow complexion. He was about to comment when Adam let lose with a string of sneezes.

When the spasm ended, he tried to compose himself. His persistent headache pounded with renewed vigor. He moaned slightly. One more misery to deal with.

Dr. Fillmore looked at him with even more concern. "That's a nasty cold you got there..."

"Yes, it is..."

Dr. Fillmore took the admission as an invitation to proceed with further ministrations. He removed his stethoscope from his bag and began to prod Adam in attempt to listen to his chest. Adam, however, was not in the mood. He knew it was nothing more than an annoying cold, and the doctor's unneeded examination did nothing to help his sour mood.

In fact doctor's attempts to question and further examine him only made Adam's irritation grow. He continued to insist that it was nothing, but Dr. Fillmore was a stubborn man and pressed on with his examination. When the good doctor asked Adam to open his mouth and say "ahh", Adam lost the fragile hold on his temper.

"No! You've done enough! Now get out of here! I don't need anymore medicine!" he growled as he pushed the doctor away.

The doctor stepped back with shock at his patient's anger. With only a slight hesitation he grabbed his bag and backed out the cell, fearful of the man's temper. Howls of laughter escaped from the adjoining cell as Adam seethed. He knew then exactly what his brothers had done. Giving them an unappreciative stare, he snapped, "Why don't you two hyenas shut up for once!"

The remark only earned more laughter from Hoss and Little Joe. Adam rolled his eyes, not at all amused by his brothers' jubilance. Throwing one more disapproving glare at his brothers Adam lay down on the cot; he was exhausted.

Sheriff Dawon entered the cell area and smiled as he saw the two clean men in hysterics. From the look of the doctor they had pulled off some trick to make him high tail it out of the jail. He glanced at the brooding, dirty tenant in the adjoining cell. It was time to get that information he needed.

"All right, boys. I've given you plenty of time and even let the doctor take a look at you... Now, how bout telling me where you're from and how you're going to pay for the damages at the saloon and for yer bail...."

Adam threw his arm over his eyes, he was determined not to say another word. All week he had been tried to solve the problems that had been popped up, and all he got for it was a headache. This time his brothers were going to do some explaining.

Hoss glanced to Joe, who quickly looked away, and then to Adam, who looked like he was sleeping. It was clear that his brothers were not about to volunteer their usually silver toungs. Swallowing hard, he started to speak. "Well.... Sheriff.... we're from the Ponderosa Ranch near Virginia City.... We ahh... We, ah... well we're not really sure how we're going to pay for everything... ya see... we're kinda broke. We ain't got no more money at all... We was plannin' on sending our Pa a telegram asking for some money but... well it didn't work out that way...."

The Sheriff nodded. "Well...I guess we got a problem here don't we."

"That's an understatement," Adam mumbled from the other cell.

Sheriff Harmon pushed back his hat as he considered the three men before him. "Yup, I don't rightly know what we're going to do…"

"You... You could send a telegram to our Pa, Sheriff. He'd pay for everything." Joe suggested.

Harmon scratched his chin as he thought his options over. "Yeah, I guess that's what I'll have to do... It'll have to wait till morning though... I'll also have to get Matt Thompson to open up the office; he usually closes the office on a Sunday…"

With a clap, Harmon smiled at the Cartwright brothers, "Well boys it's been a long night. I'm going to hit the sack. See y'all in the morning!"

Hoss and Joe mubled good nights as Harmon blew out his latern and cast the two jail cells, and its occupants, into darkness.

With little else to keep the three brothers occupied they were soon fast asleep.

Chapter 8 "Bad News on a Nice Day"

"Mr. Cartwright! Mr. Cartwright! There's a telegram for ya, Sir!" Young Paul Ward came running down the street as Ben walked towards the Sheriff's office to have a chat with his friend Roy Coffee.

He turned around with a smile on his face he was expecting his sons on the stage that day. They had been gone for five weeks now on a trip to San Jose. He had let them all go on the trip so they could have a nice little vacation after the long hard summer. He had stayed behind to get some rest himself and to get away from his sons for awhile. He loved them to death but they had been getting on his nerves and each others before the trip. He had hoped the trip would be enough to calm them down and let them make peace again.

Ben took the note from Paul, handing him a nickel for his troubles, "Thank you Paul." He said cheerfully.

Paul smiled appreciatively at the gentleman, "No, thank you Mr. Cartwright!" with that he ran back to the telegraph office.

Ben continued on his way to the sheriff's office as he opened the telegram. He entered the office, smiling at Roy, "Howdy Roy!"

Roy looked up from his desk, pleased to see his friend. "Why, howdy Ben. What brings you in here? Nothing bad I hope..."

Ben smiled, "No... Just thought I would stop by and see how you've been."

"Been good, real good Ben. How bout yourself? Those boys of yours come home yet?"

Ben grinned widely at the mention of his sons, "They're supposed to arrive today on the stage. I came to pick them up actually and as it is I am rather early..."

Roy smiled, "Well that's good news."

"Yeah" Ben said absently as he began to read the telegram. The smile fell from his face as he read.

Roy, noticed the change in Ben's composure, "Something wrong Ben?"

Ben re-read the telegram not trusting his eyes at first. Finishing it and finding it came out the same way, he looked up angrily at Roy. "Yes. There is definitely something wrong Roy. Seems those sons of mine are in jail in the small town of Springfield and they are not going to be released until I settle the damages they inflicted on a local saloon!"

Roy frowned. "Are you sure it isn't a mistake Ben?"

Ben showed the telegram to Roy. "There's no mistake about it. This is from the sheriff of Springfield. Seems they're out of money and can't settle this up themselves."

Roy shook his head, feeling sorry for Ben. "Well I know this fella, Sheriff Ed Harmon. Nice fella and a good lawman too."

Ben's face was colored with anger. "Well, I guess I won't be seeing those boys of mine today. I better get some supplies it seems I'll be making a trip to Springfield."

Roy, smiled slightly, he could just imagine the look on the Cartwright boys faces when their Pa came to bail them out. It was not going to be a pretty sight. Slapping Ben on the shoulder he followed him to the door. "Good luck Ben, I hope you get everything straightened out!"

"Oh you bet I'm going to get this settled! Of all the confounded things... when I get my hands on those boys…" Ben replied.

He didn't finish a complete sentence on his way to the mercantile—he was too infuriated. Within an hour and a half Ben Cartwright was on the road, making the two-day trek to Springfield.