It was an anxious few hours that face the Cartwrights. Shortly after reuniting with Ben and his brothers Joe had passed out, the relief of being rescued causing him to relax. Joe felt like a rag doll in Ben's arms, the fever that raveged his body reached Ben through his coat. What was the most worriesome to both Adam and Ben though was the fact that the most active Cartwright was so still. And as they reached home he hadyet toregained conciseness.

Paul was waiting for them, having already been alerted to the problem by the returning posse men and then meeting Willy on his way out to the ranch. Hop-Sing had let Paul in and told him all that he knew. The two men had spent anxious few hours praying for the family's return and hoping that all was well.

Now Paul was relived to see the three men riding into the yard, but his reilfe was short lived and his hopes dashed. Adam was leading the way tight faced and tired, Paul could see the tension in him. Ben was following him, careful not to jar Joe, equaly as tenses, his eyes practicly glued to his son's face. "Paul," Ben called gratefully looking up as his horse stopped.

"Here Ben," Paul said as he approached them, "ease him on down. Adam help me." Adam did as he was told; taking charge of Joe's legs as the slid off the saddle, and helping Paul carry him up the stairs. "Let's get him straight to bed. I can already tell that I'm going to have to operate, and Hop-Sing has everything already up there."

Adam just nodded.

They made their way carefully up the stairs and as soon as they had Joe settled Paul had ordered both Adam and Ben out. Hop-Sing had shut and locked the door in his employers face while telling them that there was bath water waiting and food in the kitchen. Paul smiled briefly at the man he knew truly ran the Ponderosa and nodded his thanks.

Paul then turned his attention to Joe and frowned. There was no doubt in his mind that Joe had an infection for the boy was pale and covered in a shine of sweet. The energy that was ever present in the youngest seemed to be gone "It looks to me that the bleeding had stopped and I don't think Joe can stand to lose much more blood," Paul informed Hop-Sing who was studying the young man grim faced.

"I get scissors," he said racing away. He was back moments latter with the necessary tools.

With in moments Paul had carefully cut off Joe's cloths and socked the fabric that had clung to his skin. His efforts were rewarded when Joe's wounds did not start to bleed again. A quick examination told him that both bullets were still in Joe's body and the wounds were infected.

After Paul had checked to make sure he had everything, and that Joe was out for the count, he looked up at Hop-Sing, "shall we began?"