CHAPTER EIGHT

That afternoon, Ben, Hoss, Josie, and Little Joe tried retracing Joe's tracks from his previous search in hopes they'd find some sign Joe had missed. As they approached the large boulder where, unbeknownst to them, Adam had been held up, Pip's nose hit the dirt, and he began sniffing furiously. He followed the scent to a clump of scrub brush and barked. Ben slid from Buck and walked over to the dog, where he discovered a black gun belt nearly hidden by the bush. He knew even before he examined it that it was Adam's. He cradled it against his chest and took it to Hoss.

"Adam's," Hoss confirmed.

"Yeah," Ben said, his voice shot through with exhaustion. "Tracks show three horses, one man on foot. Tracks peter out there by the rocks." He gestured in the direction Adam had traveled. "We'll have to spread out, cover every direction."

Little Joe and Hoss shared a glance. They were all drained, and Ben looked ready to drop. The younger Cartwrights hadn't been sleeping well the past several nights, but Ben hadn't been sleeping at all. Josie was amazed her uncle hadn't started hallucinating.

"Pa," Hoss said gently. "You need to get some rest. You ain't had no sleep in three days."

"Not 'til we find him," Ben said. Hoss looked at Josie, hoping she'd support his efforts to force Ben to rest, but Josie shook her head. She, too, would drive herself into the ground to find Adam. "Not 'til we find him," Ben repeated. He gestured behind him. "Hoss, you go around by these rocks. Joe, go in that direction." He pointed off to his left. "Josie and I are following this trail," he finished, indicating Adam's tracks. He hauled himself wearily back onto Buck, and the four of them rode on.

Adam lit another charge in the mine and staggered to the entrance, hoping the sound of the blast might alert his family and bring them back. As the smoke cleared, he turned toward his captor.

"Well that's it, Kane. Now let's see what you've got in that stinkin' pit!" he shouted. Kane stared at him in hatred as Adam wobbled back into the mine. He was dizzy from hunger and his head pounded from dehydration. Kane was growing fatigued, too, and sat down heavily at his table, his revolver in his hand. He stared at it for a moment, then unloaded the rounds and put them into the rifle. He tossed the now-useless Colt aside as Adam emerged from the mine with a rock in each hand. Seeing the malice in Adam's eyes, Kane cocked the rifle.

Adam held the rocks up for Kane to see. "All there is, Kane," Adam growled. "Just rocks! There's no vein in there."

"I know, Cartwright. I've known for some time."

Adam stared in disbelief. This man had enslaved and starved him for nearly two weeks. And for what? A pile of worthless rocks. He dropped the stones. "Then why? Why all this?"

"When I realized that this wouldn't be my strike, either, just another failure like all the rest, I knew that my time was up." He shook his head in defeat. "I'd run out of everything. I never had the breaks like you, Cartwright."

Adam suddenly understood. It all came down to jealousy, plain and simple. Kane was jealous of the Cartwrights' good fortune and was taking his anger out on Adam. "You wouldn't know what to do with them if you had them," he retorted.

"You still think you're a better man than I am, don't you?" Kane said.

"That's right," Adam replied, never once breaking eye contact. He'd considered giving up so many times over the past two weeks, but he couldn't let this madman win. Whatever it took, he was going to prove he was still a civilized man and, more importantly, he was going to get home to his family.

But Kane was determined, too. "I'm going to prove it's the other way around," he said. "I claim that you can be driven to kill like anyone else. I'm going to give you a fair chance to kill or be killed." He rose slowly from the table, still aiming the rifle at Adam, and stepped over to the wagon, where he picked up a shovel. He took the shovel and the rifle to a small outcropping of rocks. Adam watched as Kane dug down a few inches and pulled up a small sack of food and a canteen full of water. He laid both items on the rock.

Adam's eyes grew wide, and he staggered forward, reaching desperately for the food and water. He collapsed against the rock, gasping for air, and grabbed at the canteen. "There was food and water all this time, huh?" He struggled to keep his voice from fading.

"All part of the plan," Kane said. "There's just enough there to get one of us out of here alive."

Adam looked up and prayed he had the strength left for what he knew was coming.

"This gun," Kane continued, firing the rifle into the air, "is loaded. I'm gonna put it between you and me, and we'll both go for it at the count of five."

Adam's head lolled against the rock. He could barely stand, and now he was expected to fight for his life. He shook his head. He couldn't do it. He was too weak. Kane was going to win. Kane set the rifle on the ground and stepped back.

"One," he said.

Adam stayed draped over the rock face, wishing Kane would just shoot him and get it over with when images flashed before his eyes. A husky blond boy knocking him down at a train station in Cambridge. A skinny, curly-headed boy leaping into his arms in Carson City. A raven-haired little girl resting her head on his shoulder as she munched on a peppermint stick. And a gray-haired man with dark brown eyes and strong arms embracing him after three years apart. All at once, Adam had the strength he needed. And he was not waiting for a count of five.

As soon as Kane said "two," Adam sprang.

"NO MORE GAMES!" he howled as he threw himself onto Kane. The man fought back, but Adam burned with rage and wrestled him to the ground. He pinned him and wrapped his long fingers around his captor's throat. "No more games!" he repeated, now half-mad himself. Kane's eyes bulged. "No more games," Adam snarled again. "No guns! No games!"

"Kill me!" Kane demanded as Adam tightened his grip on his throat. "Kill me!" he gasped again. "Either way, I win!" He thrashed one last time and lay still.

Adam jumped back in horror and stared at the man. He was relieved when Kane gasped for air. The man was only half conscious, but he was alive. Adam dragged himself away from Kane and through the dirt to the rifle that had kept him prisoner for so long. He grabbed the weapon and smashed it against a rock over and over until it lay in pieces on the ground. Forcing himself to his feet, he snatched the food bag and canteen and stumbled out of the camp.

As Adam staggered away, Kane came to and shouted "Cartwright!" in a hoarse croak. "Cartwright!" he repeated. Adam fell, and as he lay on the ground catching his breath, he heard Kane shout, "Cartwright! You're leaving me here to die just like those two animals left you!"

"Shit," Adam thought. He watched Kane haul himself to his feet and take two shaky steps toward him. The man was a lunatic, but right now he was a lunatic with a valid point. If Adam left him, he would be abandoning a man in the desert with no food, water, or transportation: the exact offense that had so angered him two weeks ago. Right then, Kane lost his footing and fell, dashing his head against a rock.

"I win!" he cried and blacked out.

Reluctantly, Adam rose to his feet and tripped his way back toward Kane. The man's head was bleeding where it had hit the rock, but he was still breathing. If they stayed in the camp, they'd both die, so he used the poles and canvas tarp from the shelter to construct a travois. He dragged Kane onto the travois and allowed himself two sips of the precious water before picking up the poles and setting off into the desert, dragging his enemy behind him.

He trudged through the hot sun for hours, hoping he was headed toward a town and praying that his family was still looking for him. He rationed his water carefully, occasionally pouring a little into Kane's mouth as well, but by midafternoon, the canteen was empty and the now-familiar symptoms of advanced dehydration returned. His head ached and his stomach churned, yet he dragged himself along. If he could just hold on long enough, Pa would find him. He distracted himself from his pain by picturing each of their faces and trying to remember the sounds of their voices, especially their laughter. But by late afternoon, he could no longer concentrate on anything. His mind went blank, and it was all he could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Ben, Hoss, Little Joe, Josie, and Pip had regrouped after finding no traces of Adam on their separate paths. It had been two days since they'd found Adam's gun belt, and the trail had gone cold. Even Josie was ready to admit that they had to stop and rest, but every time she was about to open her mouth to say so, a little voice in her head would whisper that Adam might be just over the next rise.

A cadence "I can't lose him, I can't lose him, I can't lose him," swirled around and around in her head until she thought she might scream.

In the late afternoon, they reached the top of another hill, and Ben slumped forward in his saddle, his energy finally spent. The cousins stared at one another, each of them unwilling to say what had to be said. Little Joe and Josie looked over to Hoss, who understood that he was to take Adam's place as their spokesman. The thought pained him; he didn't like the idea of being the oldest brother. Finally, he spoke.

"Pa," he said gently, "you can't go on. You can't do it."

"We're gonna have to face it, Pa," Joe added, his voice trembling. "We're not gonna find Adam."

"No," Josie whimpered. Bile rose in her throat, and she forced herself not to vomit. "He's out there," she insisted. "I know he is. The world would feel different if he wasn't still in it."

"Pa, it's been two weeks since he left Eastgate," Hoss continued, forcing himself to block out Josie's heart-wrenching pleas.

Ben sat silently on his horse and stared, unseeing, down at the ground. At long last, he nodded weakly. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

That was it. If Uncle Ben was giving up, then Adam was truly lost. Josie leaned to one side and retched. Little Joe pulled Cochise alongside her, patted her back, and handed her a canteen so she could rinse her mouth. Ben watched dolefully, thinking that vomiting didn't sound like such a bad idea.

"All right," he said when Josie stopped heaving. "Let's go home." He sat up and tightened his grip on his reins to turn Buck around when a bit of movement on the desert floor below caught his eye. Pip noticed it, too, and sniffed the air. His tail wagged, and he let out two sharp barks.

Ben squinted and made out the figure of a man staggering across the desert and dragging a load of some sort. He sat up straighter in his saddle. The man's gait was all wrong, but his thatch of black hair was unmistakable. Hoss, Joe, and Josie followed his gaze, and their jaws dropped open, all three of them stunned speechless.

"Adam!" Ben squeaked. Then more strongly, "ADAM! ADAM!" He spurred Buck and took off down the rocky hill, the rest of the family right behind him.

Adam heard his father call his name but didn't look up. He'd had so many hallucinations over the past few hours that he no longer trusted his senses. He continued plodding along, his head down. He leaned back briefly against the travois, trying to summon strength that wasn't there. He couldn't catch his breath. Maybe he should just lie down for a little while. This idea struck him as hilarious, and he dropped to all fours, cackling.

Ben, Hoss, Josie, and Little Joe thundered down the hill and jerked to a stop a few feet from Adam and the travois. They raced for him as he fell to the ground laughing hysterically. Ben grabbed him and picked him up. Adam thrashed wildly, so Hoss and Little Joe grabbed hold of him, too, and called his name to try to snap him back to reality. Josie was stunned. Not two minutes ago she had begun grieving for him, and now here he was in front of her, alive. She wanted nothing more than to fling her arms around him and never let go, but she held back until her uncle and cousins could get him under control. He clearly needed medical attention, and she'd be no good to him if she got knocked out by one of his flailing hands. She wrapped her arms around Pip instead and waited, still staring at her cousin in disbelief as tears streamed down her face.

Ben, Hoss, and Little Joe kept shouting Adam's name to get his attention, but it was no use. He was delirious.

Adam felt several pairs of arms grabbing hold of him, and he giggled harder. "There was no gold!" he babbled. Why weren't these people laughing along? The situation was hilarious when you thought about it.

"Adam!" Ben shouted in his son's face.

Adam's maniacal, darting eyes slowed and focused. He wasn't imagining these people. The strong arms that held him were familiar, and it slowly dawned on him why. Those arms had rocked him to sleep in the back of a covered wagon when he was a small boy. They had handed him two baby brothers. They had comforted him after the woman he wanted to marry broke his heart.

Pa.

His laughter evolved into sobs, and he collapsed in his father's arms.

"Oh, Pa!" he cried. Ben, Hoss, and Little Joe lowered him to the ground, and Josie darted over. Little Joe poured water from his canteen into his hand and wiped it gently across his brother's cracked lips as Josie reached a hand in to feel Adam's pulse. His heartbeat was fast and fluttering, and he kept trying to push Josie's hand away.

"He was draggin' a dead man, Pa," Hoss said after checking the man on the travois. Josie looked over at the prone figure and felt a sharp pang of guilt. In her haste to reach Adam, she had completely missed that she might have a second patient.

"He's been through some kinda hell," Little Joe said grimly. Ben took the canteen from Joe and supported Adam's head while he poured a little water into his son's mouth. Adam continued to sob, and Ben gathered him up in his arms, pulled him into his chest, and held him tightly. Hoss, and Little Joe reached out and placed a hand on their father's shoulder, but Josie lay her hand on Adam's forehead. She was alarmed at how hot and dry Adam's skin was.

"Uncle Ben," she said urgently. "We have to get him out of the sun."

Ben nodded. Hoss leaned over to pick up Adam, but Ben waved him off. "I've got him," he said. "You bring that other man." Ben put one arm under Adam's knees and the other around his shoulders and stood up more easily than he expected to. He carried his son to a small copse of trees a few yards away and laid him in the shade.

The moment Adam was on the ground, Josie sprang into action. She gave him a once-over with her eyes and shook her head. His face was sunburned and blistered, his lips cracked, and he was covered in dirt. Two weeks' beard growth shrouded the lower half of his face, and through the tattered remains of his shirt, Josie could see that his arms and chest were covered in scrapes and bruises. The palms of his hands were torn open where blisters had formed, broken, reformed, and broken again. His head lolled slowly from side to side as he muttered incoherently. Ben leaned down and gave his son another sip from the canteen.

"No more for a little bit, Uncle Ben," Josie said. "It doesn't do him any good if it comes right back up."

Ben nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just hold him," Josie said as she knelt next to her cousin. "Keep him calm. Let him know he's safe. He probably won't understand anything you say, but he'll recognize your voice." Ben sat, rested his son's head in his lap, and stroked his matted hair while Josie examined him. Hoss and Little Joe dragged the travois to a spot in the shade a few feet away and then sat down next to their father.

Josie reached for her pocketknife to cut away what was left of Adam's shirt, but she didn't need it. She gripped the front of his shirt in both hands and tugged. The threadbare fabric fell apart, and she tossed the frayed, reeking garment aside. "Phew," she said. "You need a bath, my friend." She glanced down at Adam's bare torso and was aghast to see that he had lost at least twenty pounds. Ben noticed, too, and grimaced.

"He ain't been eatin'," Hoss observed.

Apart from the weight loss and the scrapes and bruises, though, he seemed to be intact. Josie ran her hands across his ribcage. No broken ribs. That was good. Palpating his abdomen, she found no evidence of internal injuries, either. She sighed in relief.

"Well?" Ben asked, his brown eyes brimming with concern.

"No major injuries, but he's suffering from sunstroke and shock. Lucky we found him when we did. He wouldn't have survived another hour."

"Will he be ok?" Little Joe queried, sounding more like a boy than the twenty-year-old man he was.

"If we can cool him down," Josie said. She dug some rags out of her medical bag and doused a couple with water from her canteen. She handed one to Ben, instructing him to bathe Adam's face. She took a second one and began wiping down his chest. Adam shivered as the water hit his skin, and he tried to push their hands away, but Hoss and Joe each pinioned an arm, and he lay still again. Josie opened her second canteen and poured the water slowly over his head.

"Um," Ben said, looking down. Adam's head still rested in his lap, and Josie had just soaked his trousers.

Josie giggled for the first time in more than a week. "Sorry. I didn't think about that."

"It's okay. It's hot."

She checked Adam's vitals again. He was still much too warm, but his heartbeat and breathing were a bit slower and stronger. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Atta boy," she said, smiling down at her cousin, who had, mercifully, either passed out or fallen asleep.

"How long until he's able to ride?" Ben asked.

"Through this country?" Josie asked. "Several days, at least. He's in bad shape."

Ben thought for a moment. "Hoss, Joe," he said as he gently shifted Adam's head to the ground so he could stand up. "You've got four or five hours of daylight left. Think you can make it to Salt Flats and bring back a wagon in that much time?"

Hoss looked skyward for a moment, clearly calculating in his head. "It'll be close, but we can do it."

"Good man," Ben replied, clapping him on the shoulder. He pulled out his wallet and gave Hoss a wad of bills. "Pay whatever they ask, and if you have time, stop at the hotel and tell them we'll need three rooms starting tomorrow. And bring back some more water and a shovel, too." He gestured toward the corpse still lying on the travois.

"And some broth," Josie added.

Hoss and Little Joe nodded in acknowledgement, mounted up, and took off for town twenty miles away.

After they left, Ben sat next to Adam again as Josie continued tending to him. He felt awful for underestimating her. She'd been stalwart on this journey. She had never once complained about the heat or the difficulty of the ride, though Ben knew she had to be in pain. And seeing as how he himself had wanted to vomit when he agreed to end the search, he couldn't blame her for emptying her stomach. Now he watched admiringly as she calmly and expertly treated his boy. His memory drifted to the day Adam arrived home from college and he had been filled with relief knowing that if anything ever happened to him, Adam would care for his little brothers. Watching Josie work, Ben now knew that if anything happened to him, the burden would not shift entirely to Adam. His sons and niece would all care for each other.

Josie roused Adam enough to give him another small sip of water, after which he promptly fell back asleep. She dampened another rag and began wiping some of the dirt off his arms. When she reached his left wrist, she sucked in a breath.

"What is it?" Ben asked.

"Look at this," she said, holding up Adam's left forearm. Ben stepped over Adam to sit next to Josie and examine his son's arm. An angry red gash ran all the way around Adam's left wrist. "It looks like a burn," Josie said, studying it.

Ben reached over and picked up Adam's right arm. As he expected, there was a matching burn on that wrist. "He's been tied up," Ben said grimly.

Josie flinched in disgust. "Tied up?" she repeated. "Rope burn. Of course." She looked at Adam's wrists again. "Those ropes must have been awfully tight."

"Or he was struggling to get loose."

A lump rose in Josie's throat at the thought of Adam straining to get free from an abductor. She reached out with another damp cloth and gently cleaned the gashes on each wrist before bandaging them. "Who would do that?" she asked in a wavering voice.

"Probably the same men who took his money and his horse."

"But they've been dead for days. These wounds are fresh." An epiphany struck her like lightning, and she leapt to her feet and walked over to the dead man. She pulled off the blanket Hoss had covered him with and stared into the lifeless face. Ben watched with curiosity as Josie lifted the dead man's right forearm and manipulated his elbow.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Seeing how long he's been dead," Josie replied without turning around.

"You can tell that by wiggling his arm?"

"Yes. Rigor mortis hasn't set in yet, so he couldn't have died more than about two or three hours ago."

She examined the body. This man was also caked in dirt, and his face, like Adam's, was sunburnt and blistered. She reached for his head to check the back of it when she noticed ten long, thin bruises on the man's throat.

"Uncle Ben! Come look at this!" she called.

Ben hustled over and knelt next to his niece. He didn't fancy playing around with a corpse, but Josie seemed to have made a discovery of some kind. "What is it?"

"Look at the bruises on his throat," she said, pointing. "Don't they look to be about the same size and shape as Adam's fingers?"

Despite his revulsion, Ben leaned closer to the body for a better look. Josie was right; the bruises matched Adam's hands.

"Adam choked him to death?" Ben asked in shock as he glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping child.

"No, this man didn't die of strangulation. You can tell by looking at the whites of his eyes, see?" She pried open one of the man's eyelids. Ben recoiled but forced himself to look.

"What am I looking for?"

"If he'd been strangled to death, his eyes would be bloodshot. But they're not. Plus," she added, "the capillaries—those are the tiny blood vessels near the surface of your skin—would have burst, too, so his face would also be bloodshot, but it isn't. He's just sunburned."

"So, Adam started to strangle him but stopped."

"Yeah," Josie said, sitting back on her haunches and scratching her head.

"Did Adam kill him some other way?"

"No, this man died of dehydration and exposure. It's strange, though. If they were fighting so hard that Adam was choking him, why didn't he finish the job?"

Ben was perplexed. Things weren't adding up. "And if Adam didn't kill him, why couldn't this man walk out under his own power?"

"Probably because of this," Josie answered, turning the corpse's head so Ben could see the bloody gash toward the back on the right side. "It's not bad enough to kill an otherwise healthy man, but it's certainly enough to knock one out for several hours. And I don't think this guy had been getting enough food or water, either."

"But why drag him out, then?" Ben's voice rose with frustration. "If they were fighting that viciously, why didn't Adam just leave him behind? He'd know he'd have a better chance at survival on his own."

Josie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. We'll have to wait until he wakes up to get the full story." She peered closely into the dead man's face. "Who are you?" she asked. Then she glanced back at Adam. "And why weren't the two of you getting along?"

Adam stirred, so Josie flung the blanket back over the body and returned to her patient. Ben held up Adam's head and gave him a little more water. Adam tried to take the canteen as Ben pulled it away from his lips, but Ben pushed his son's hand back down.

"Not too much at once, son," he said gently.

"Kane," Adam muttered.

"What's that?"

"Kane," Adam said. "What happened…" he trailed off.

"You mean your friend on the sled?" Josie asked. Adam nodded weakly, his eyes nearly closed.

"Not my friend," he murmured.

"He's dead, son," Ben said. "Josie thinks he died an hour or two ago."

Adam's eyes shot wide as horror flashed across his face. He grabbed the front of his father's shirt with both hands. "I didn't kill him, Pa! I didn't! I'm not an animal!" He broke out sobbing again and buried his face in his father's chest.

Ben wrapped his arms around his son and let him cry, though Adam was still too dehydrated to shed tears. He looked at Josie, hoping for some sort of medical explanation, but she shrugged her shoulders. She sat down on the ground next to Ben and rubbed Adam's back. Adam calmed quickly under the loving touches of his father and cousin, and Ben lowered him back to the ground. Josie indulged him with a few more sips of water, and he soon fell back to sleep.

He drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few hours as Josie and Ben took turns bathing his face and chest to keep him cool. Josie figured he'd run a fever for a day or so but felt that he was past the worst of the danger. She and Ben decided they would all camp there for the night, and the following morning they would take Adam in the wagon to Salt Flats, where they could rest for a few days before riding home.

"That'll give Joe time to go back for Cochise, too," Ben said.

Just before nightfall, Hoss and Little Joe returned in a wagon bearing a shovel, a small keg of water, and broth. Little Joe drove the wagon, and Hoss rode alongside.

"How's Adam?" Hoss asked and smiled when Josie said he was a little better. Hoss handed Josie a small pail of broth. "'Fraid it's cold by now," he apologized. Josie assured him the temperature didn't matter and skipped back to Adam with the pail in hand.

Little Joe looked down at the shrouded corpse.

"Think we should wait until tomorrow to bury him?" he asked.

"No!" Adam exclaimed, struggling to sit up. Josie jumped in surprise. She'd her back to him as she pried open the lid to the broth. She turned around to Adam and slipped an arm behind his shoulders for support. "No," he repeated more quietly as everyone stared at him. "Get him away from me."

"You got it, Older Brother," Little Joe said. "C'mon, Hoss." Little Joe grabbed the shovel, Hoss picked up the travois, and the two of them set off in the dark to dig a grave for Peter Kane.

Ben knelt again by Adam's side and took over from Josie as his son's support. "How are you feeling, son?" he asked softly. Seeing Adam lucid again brought him a huge surge of relief.

"Terrible," Adam said, massaging his temples. "My head won't stop pounding."

"That's the dehydration," Josie said. Adam's head snapped up at the sound of Josie's voice. His face lit up as he noticed her presence for the first time.

"Josie!" he cried and flung his arms around her. "I thought I was never going to see you again," he said, his voice muffled in Josie's hair.

"I know the feeling," she replied and held tightly to him for several long moments as tears coursed down her face again. "Come on now," she said at last as she wiped her eyes. "Have a little of this broth Hoss brought for you."

Adam took a few sips of the broth and a few more of water before closing his eyes in exhaustion. Ben laid him back down, and Josie untied her bedroll from Scout's saddle and spread the blanket over him. Then she took the remaining rags from her medical bag and tied them in a bundle to create a makeshift pillow, which she slipped under his head.

"Thanks," Adam murmured before drifting off to sleep again.

Once they were certain Adam was asleep, Josie and Ben pulled some jerky and stale biscuits from their saddlebags and ate for the first time that day. Little Joe and Hoss soon joined them.

"It's done," Hoss replied. "He ain't gonna bother no one else."

The four of them ate quietly, each lost in their own thoughts and too exhausted for conversation anyway. Josie hardly tasted the food, and as soon as it was gone, she grabbed a spare bedroll and snuggled up next to Adam. He reeked to high Heaven, but she didn't care. She thought she should feel some emotion—relief, joy, gratitude—but the fatigue was overwhelming. She threw one arm protectively across his chest and within seconds was fast asleep for the first time in days. Little Joe wrapped up in his own bedroll, flopped down next to Josie, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He, too, was soon asleep.

"Now there's a good idea," Hoss said. He stood and stretched, then collapsed next to Little Joe and closed his eyes. Even Pip flopped onto the ground next to Hoss and began to snore softly.

Ben gazed through the pale moonlight at the four sleeping cousins and said a silent prayer of thanks. Then, succumbing to his own weariness, he lay down on Adam's other side and slept deeply.