Chapter 4: The ledge

Author's Note: I had some trouble here, but it all seemed to work out. Thanks to everyone who reviews. I apologize if there are any mistakes.

"Boss Hogg!" Bo and Luke said simultaneously.

"Boss Hogg's that money grubbin' county commissioner, ain't he?" Wes asked.

"Sure is. Face it boys," Bo said. "You might as well give up, 'cuz Roscoe is Boss's right hand man, and you've already been fooled."

Hank's eyes narrowed at this and he raised the gun higher.

"Let's hope for your sakes, and for that sheriff's, that you're wrong."

Balladeer: Meanwhile, back in town, Boss Hogg was in a rare mood – a happy one.

He sat back in his office chair, feet propped up on the desk and hands folded contentedly on his chest, grinning from ear to ear. Then Roscoe walked.

"Boss? Oh…ooooeee, you got that look on your face again! Did you get one of them spare rib bones stuck sideways in your mouth?" Instantly the smile left Boss's face.

"No, you idiot! I was smilin'!"

"Well, what would you have to smile about Boss? Unless you found those extra spare ribs Enos hid in the refrigerator."

"Forget the ribs!" Boss yelled impatiently. "I have better news!"

"What's that?" Roscoe asked.

"I'm gonna be rich! Rich!" Boss laughed maniacally.

"Ooooeee that's…wait a minute. How?"

"Remember them Milton boys I had you talk to over the phone the other day?"

"You mean when you made me pose as a civilian named Roscoe Gimble and made me say all that stuff you'd written on that paper?" Roscoe said with a hint of accusation in his voice.

"That's right," answered Boss.

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, they jist got into town yesterday an' I gave them a signed permit to excavate that mine. Which is what they're doin' as we speak," Boss explained excitedly.

"Well, how's them excavating that coal mine gonna make you rich, Boss? Seein' as I'm the one they promised half of their findings to."

"Because you'll be ex-sheriff if you don't bring me every cent!" Boss shouted.

"Oooo – igit! No need to yell! Come on Flash," Roscoe picked up his beloved hound and left Boss's office.

"Hey, don't go too far, now!" Boss called after the bumbling sheriff. "I may need ya in a couple hours!" Then he reached in his desk and pulled out a jar of pickles and began to stuff his face.

"Hank! We got ourselves a problem," Joe called, walking back from where he'd been investigating the other side of the wall of dirt Bo and Luke had dug through. It had taken them nearly an hour to get through all that mud and rock, and they were physically exhausted. Luke was sitting on a boulder, his head leaned back against the cold mine wall. Bo was sitting on the ground, leaning up against his older cousin's body. Wes stood nearby, gun in hand, standing guard over the boys.

"Now what?" he whined as Joe walked up.

"What's goin' on?" asked Hank, slightly annoyed that there was yet another inconvenience.

"Well, there's a narrow ledge leadin' to the other end of the mine. Only looks big enough for one person to cross at a time. If somebody falls, well, it's a near hundred foot drop to the bottom," Joe said somberly.

"Isn't there another way across?" Wes asked.

"Not that I can see. Look Hank, I don't know about this. That ledge looks pretty unstable."

Hank's face broke into an evil grin.

"That's okay," he said. "We'll send them across first, then if it gives way…I guess we won't have to worry about them snitchin' on us, will we? Get up." The boys did as they were told; there was nothing else they could do.

"Why are you so worried about people knowin' you're here, seein' as the law's on your side?" Asked Luke, stalling for time.

"Because the conditions for excavating this mine were that we bring half the money to town and give it to that Roscoe Gimble. An' of course, we ain't gonna do that. An' seein' that that Roscoe fellow is a few beers short of six pack, the only possible flaw in our slaw would be if somebody went back an' told the nitwit our plan. Which ain't gonna happen. Now get!"

Balladeer: Did y'all catch that?

As they followed the Miltons back further into the dark mine, Bo whispered, "Hey, you got a plan yet? Now'd be real swell time." Luke shook his head.

"The odds are against us. They got guns. We just gotta hope that uncle Jesse an' Daisy have realized we've been gone too long." They came upon the rocky ledge, which was about fifty feet across and two feet wide. In the dim light the boys could just make out the edges of the pathway, and the dark chasm beneath.

"Well, get goin'. When you reach the other end, holler, and no funny stuff. Remember, these guns are loaded," warned Hank, forcing the boys forward.

"Unless they got a death wish," Wes joked. Luke and Bo just glared at him, and began to make their way across the ledge. Luke moved in front of Bo protectively, thinking that if the ledge did happen to give way, he'd fall instead of Bo. He inched out slowly onto the narrow land bridge, easing one foot, then the other. Bo followed close behind, concentrating on nothing else but Luke's cautious steps in front of him, and his own beating heart.

They were about 5 feet from the other side when it caved in. Luke jumped to the edge, barely making it, but quickly finding a secure foothold. Bo, on the other hand, had nowhere to go but down. He fell some thirty feet onto another rocky ledge, where he lay motionless. Luke whipped around and gazed down at his unconscious cousin with his heart in his throat.

"Bo!" he called, but got no answer. He glanced back where the Milton clan stood, obviously shocked by what had transpired. "Throw me a rope," he demanded, gruff emotion evident in his voice. Wes, who had been carrying the rope looped over his shoulder, was about to oblige when Hank stopped him.

"Leave him, if we help him it'll just waste time." Fury burned in Luke's gut.

"You toss me that rope right now or you'll have to shoot me, 'cuz you won't get no more help from me." Wordlessly Wes tossed Luke the rope.

"No funny stuff, boy. You just remember that we got the guns," threatened Hank. Luke just ignored him, tied one end of the rope around his waist and the other, around a large boulder. Then he shimmied down to the ledge where Bo lay.

When his feet touched the ledge he knelt down and felt Bo's neck for a pulse. When he found a steady one, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Bo. Bo, come on, buddy. Open your eyes."

Bo moaned at the sound of his cousin's voice, and slowly came to.

"Luke?" he whispered hoarsely. "What happened?"

"The ledge gave way," said Luke, helping Bo to a sitting position. "You fell. Anything hurt?"

"Not really, just my head is all," Bo said, his voice getting stronger. Luke gently turned Bo's head to the side, noticing blood matting his cousin's blonde hair from a gash near his temple.

"Got a pretty nasty gash there," he commented, and started to tear part of his left shirt sleeve off, just below the elbow.

"What are you doing?" Bo asked.

"What's it look like I'm doin'."

"Well, ya don't gotta go ripping up your shirt; shoot, it ain't that bad," Bo scoffed. "You know how mad Daisy's gonna be when she has to fix that?"

"Well, I gotta stop the bleeding, all right?" said Luke, a bit exasperated. "Now hold still." Just then Hank yelled down.

"Well, is he alive?" Luke was disgusted by the casual way the question was put, and struggled to control his temper.

"Yes, he's alive, but he's hurt," he shouted back.

"Hurt how?"

"He's got a bad cut on his head and probably a concussion." Luke frowned as he heard Hank chuckle.

"Well, good then. We won't have to worry about a dead body," he said. "Bring him up." Luke sighed and pressed the fabric against Bo's wound.

"I gotta get us out of here. I'm gonna try somethin'," he said quietly.

"What?" Bo asked.

"I'm not sure yet, just be ready."

Balladeer: Now I don't know about y'all, but if one of them Dukes ever told me to "be ready", I'd be ready for anything.

Whew! That took forever! I'm sorry it took so long, hope you're still interested. Any suggestions for how the story should go are welcome. Please review!