Chapter 16, by KEM

Dirk Farrow paced the room all the while imagining in his mind the Cartwrights as they had taken refuge in this room, Folly's room, his girl's room. It was bad enough that Folly had felt the need to help them after Little Joe had been beaten up and Adam shot. But then, his father too? How could he just dismiss his feelings for Folly and force her to remain friendly with their enemies? Then there was Byron. He always knew his father liked him best, Byron could do no wrong. And the way he eyed his girl... He'd be damned if he'd lose Folly to big brother. Nope. Byron wasn't going to come out on top this time. Not if he could help it. And he had just the plan.

Dirk returned to his watch by the window. Many times Dirk had used Folly's room as a refuge from his father's constant badgering. Their situation had originally started out as the typical saloon patron and hostess relationship. But over time things grew more friendly, then eventually more intimate. Yes, he knew he wasn't the only customer she kept company with. But, there was something special about Folly, she seemed to understand him. And when he needed an escape, she was often there for him having told him he could use her room whenever needed. However, he wasn't sure he felt love for her. But, she was fun to be with, and he did care for her.

Suddenly, Dirk's attention was drawn back to the window when a shot rang out.

"Who is it?" Dirk asked when there came a hesitant knock at Folly's room door.

"It's Sy, Mr. Farrow."

Dirk took two long strides away from the window towards the door and yanked it open. "Get in here before someone sees you!"

Sy stepped in and Dirk shut the door quickly but quietly to make sure no attention was drawn to their whereabouts. "What's going on out there?!"

"I don't rightly know, Mr. Farrow, but the Cartwrights are leaving town now and things are setup perfect like. The Cartwrights hid the oldest son in a wagon alone takin' the long way home that cuts past the old Porter place while his Pa and brothers're in another takin' the short way so's to throw anyone off who may be followin'."

"But, what about that shooting I just heard?" Dirk asked again.

"All I knows is I saw the Sheriff headin' that way, so all's clear."

"Good, Sy, good," Dirk said feeling a little nervous, yet giddy at the same time. Then suddenly grabbing Sy by the arm, he asked, "No one saw you leave did they? No one saw you come this way?"

"No, Mr. Farrow. With so much fuss behind the Yucca and the Cs wantin' to sneak outta town, ain't no one paid me no mind. It was easy."

Dirk bid a sigh of relief. "See? Byron's not the only smart son in this family," Dirk said remembering how he had Sy get hired on at The Ponderosa so that he could know at all times what the Cs were up to. Now he knew that the Cs were sneakin' out of town and Adam Cartwright was alone, give or take a hand or two. This was the time to set his plan into motion, and it was going to work out perfectly.

"Sy, you go catch up with Adam Cartwright's wagon. If they ask, just tell them Mr. Cartwright sent you as extra help to protect his son. There's a shortcut off the main path to The Ponderosa that will take me to the Porter Place. I'll meet you and the wagon there.

"Will do, Mr. Farrow." Sy slipped out the room and went back down the back stairway to the alley to his awaiting horse and immediately rode off.

Meanwhile, Dirk exited via the front stairs down to the now mostly empty saloon. He had a man waiting for him there and he would need all the help he could get for his plan to truly work. Adam Cartwright was destined for a not so pleasant surprise.

After gathering his man, Dirk left the saloon and they headed for the livery to retrieve their horses. However, not before having been spotted by Folly who had just returned to the saloon after having gone out with all the other patrons to see what the commotion had been behind the Yucca. The man with Dirk peaked her interest greatly for she knew him to be a hired gun. Dirk had talked of him to her a time or two before when he would sometimes share of his family's dealings. Seeing Dirk with him now worried her and she felt she needed to find out why. But before Folly could catch them at the livery, two figures on horseback exited the stables and raced out into the night after their prey.

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"Looks like there's no need in gettin' Doc Martin. That time's sure past due. I'll send someone to get the undertaker," Roy said as he stood up from the prone body lying on the ground. Then looking around at the lingering crowd, "Anyone see what happened?"

"I did," came a voice from the crowd.

"Best come forward and tell us about it," Roy said trying to catch a glimpse of the speaker among the many.

It turned out the dead man had cheated at cards in the Yucca earlier that evening and the one he cheated hadn't taken it lightly. This wasn't the first of this kind of incident and it wouldn't be the last.

"Did you see where the man who shot him went?"

"Looked like he headed back into the Yucca, just like nothin' happened. Tall mean lookin' fella wearin' a kinda long black coat with a black hat that hung so low all you could see was his 'stache, never seen him before."

Roy took note of the description though he hadn't recognized it. He would have his work cut out for him with this situation on top of everything else he was having to deal with of late, including the Farrow trial. Sighing in resignation, "All right everyone. Time to clear out. There's nothin' more to see here."

"Seeing as how you have all this under control, me and Deputy Bentley here will head on back to the office. We'll wait for you there," Marshal Taylor said as they began to leave the scene. But before he and Deputy Bentley could make any good distance, Deputy Bentley suddenly noticed a man fitting the description on horseback in the distance.

""There he is!" Bentley called out pointing in the direction of the quick moving form drawing Roy's attention away from the dispersing crowd.

"And that looks like Dirk Farrow with him," Marshal Taylor added a bit perplexed, identifying the other man on horseback with him. "I wonder where they're heading off to in such a hurry."

"Whatever it is it cain't be good, 'specially when it comes to a Farrow," Roy said with a sudden feeling of dread, as he hoped his day wouldn't get any worse. "Let's get this body taken care of and then we'll see where they're headed."

"Sorry, Roy. Like you said, this is your town, and that body's your responsibility. We're going after Farrow now," Marshal Taylor proclaimed before he and Deputy Bentley left Roy alone speechless, and eating his own words.

But Roy didn't have time to dwell on this turn of events for he became even more alarmed when not long after Marshal Taylor and Deputy Bentley left did he see Folly riding in the same direction that Farrow and the mystery gunman had just taken.

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Adam continued to endure the many rivets and ruts that plagued the path his wagon was taking. He longed for when the wagon would finally deliver him to the ranch so he could rest his weary and pained body in the comfort of his own bed surrounded by his family. But he knew that would be some time yet to come. Or...would it? The wagon stopped. Why had it stopped? According to his calculations, they wouldn't be at the ranch for another half hour. With that realization, Adam felt that something was definitely wrong. Maybe there was a problem with the wagon. The Porter place would be close by for them to stop for a quick fix. But Adam knew the wagons were in good shape since he personally made sure of their upkeep. So again, why were they stopping? The men were told not to stop until they had arrived at the ranch. Yet, they were stopped now.

Adam strained to see if he could hear anything from where he was situated under the supplies in the back of the wagon. At first he heard some muffled sounds that he presumed to be voices. But then suddenly there was frantic commotion, and then shots rang out. Adam instinctively reached for his gun and positioned it to where he could get off a decent shot if needed. The tarp was jarringly pulled back. But before the attacker could get Adam's exact position in the wagon, he felt a piercing heat enter and exit through his shoulder knocking him off the wagon.

"You all right?" a voice called out.

"Ow, damn! He shot me!" replied a second voice in obvious pain.

"Where did he get you?" asked the voice again.

"In the shoulder! My gun arm!" the second voice answered again.

"Aw quit acting like a baby. You'll live," replied the voice. Then the voice continued,"Now that we know you have a gun, Adam Cartwright, I advise you put it away before anyone else gets hurt. We already have your men disarmed. So, you won't be getting any help from them. What do you say?"

"Let me see your face!" Adam replied bitterly still positioned low in the wagon.

"Not until you throw out your weapon."

Adam knew that even if he was to get a shot off at the person behind the offending voice, he still would be a goner. And all he could think of was his family and how they would have to cope with his possible death. If he had a chance to survive this, he would need to do what he could to make it possible. Besides, since they hadn't already killed his hired hands, it was possible they weren't intending to kill him either. So, why give them a reason to?

After having thought it through carefully, Adam uncocked his gun and tossed it out the side of the wagon.

"Now, that's more like it."

"A deal is a deal. Now, let me see your face!" Adam called out again.

In answer to his request, Adam was soon peering into the face of. . . Byron Farrow. "Fancy meeting you here. Though not always the brightest, my brother can do good work when he sets his mind to it. Don't you think?"