Mission to Colby
Joe sits in a bar playing cards with four other men. A saloon girl stands behind Gibbins, a rough-looking, stubbled man with a cigarette hanging from his lips, the apparent social ringleader of the group.
After a player shows his cards, Joe throws his down. "I can't help it if they butt their noses in my business," Joe said. "But don't worry. They'll be out of my hair in a few days."
"Why? Where're they going?" Gibbons said lazily, concentrating on his cards.
"Colby. Got to pick up a bank draft from the cattle drive," Joe answered.
"How come you ain't going?" Gibbons asked.
"Someone's gotta stay home and watch the fort," Joe replied.
"Ooh, big Joe Cartwright. What about your PA?" Gibbons quipped.
Everyone laughed.
The saloon girl chirped up. "Must be wonderful growing up with a rich daddy."
"Yeah. Someone to bail you out on all your losing streaks," Trevor, a card player sitting next to Gibbins, said.
Buddies laugh.
"The lily-livered coddled son of a rich old man," another card player, Lem, chimed in.
"Good one!" Trevor said.
"The spoiled rotten Cartwright punk who can get drunk on a Sarsaparilla!" another man cried.
People laugh. Joe sat with a stony expression as he took in the insults around him.
"The runt of the litter, hot-headed wolf-cub that's a half-breed to his brothers!" another roared.
Joe gets up and socks the guy. Women scream. Other guys jump into the fight. Chairs fly around.
Adam and Hoss happen to be walking past the saloon and hear the ruckus.
"You can set your clock by him," Adam commented.
A guy comes flying out of the saloon doors and tumbles into the street. He picks himself up and runs back in the saloon.
"Well, shall we get this over with?" Hoss said.
Adam put his hand up to hold back Hoss. "I got a hunch. Let's wait a while."
Sure enough, Joe comes tumbling through the saloon doors. He picks himself up and is about to run back in when Adam and Hoss block his way.
"Out of my way!" Joe cried.
"Now, little brother," Hoss began. "Pa wants to talk to you and we're not keeping him waiting."
Joe socks Hoss and gets free. He runs back into the saloon.
"Dagnab his ornery hide, the little cuss!" Hoss exclaimed rubbing his jaw. "What do you want to do?"
"Looks like this calls for an intervention," Adam replied.
They calmly enter the saloon. Raucous chaos presides.
The saloon owner approaches Adam. "Adam! That little brother of yours started this! Who's gonna pay—"
Adam sighed. "We'll take care of it."
Joe and another guy are belting each other surrounded by a crowd that's hooting and hollering. Adam and Hoss push through the crowd and get behind Joe. They wait. Joe is eventually socked right into them. They catch him and lift him up by the shoulders so his feet can't reach the floor. His feet flail. The patrons laugh.
"Let me go, let go!" Joe angrily pushed away.
"I said Pa wants to talk to you," Adam said.
Joe won't stop fighting them.
Hoss looked to Adam. "Do you want to do the honors, or shall I?"
"I think it's your turn."
Hoss socked Joe, who went down for the count.