Thank you so much for reading! Hopefully this chapter will reward you all as a big plot twist lies in store.

~CHAPTER 8~

"How?" Adam asked quickly.

"About two hours ago, I was makin' my rounds at the main stores and saloons, and my last stop was the Sazarac. And there it was, pretty as you please, a marked fifty dollar bill. Cosmo even remembered the feller that gave it to 'im. Came in late this afternoon."

"Adam, what's he talkin' about? What marked bills?" Joe asked, confused.

"It was just a hunch, Joe. You see, after the fire and the rustling, I didn't want to take a chance with the payroll. I didn't know if they were all connected and since it was such a large one, I thought it'd be a good idea to take some precautions. I didn't tell you or Hoss about it because it was a long shot that it would even get stolen at all, but after it did, I didn't want to get your hopes up if we weren't able to track it down."

As Adam was working through his explanation, a grin slowly spread across Hoss's face. After he finished, the pieces fit together perfectly. "So, that's why yuh had all the money in large bills; so's they'd be easier tuh trace. And yuh sent word to have the bank mark 'em?"

Adam nodded before turning back to Roy. "Did Cosmo recognize the man at all?"

Roy shook his head regretfully. "No," he said, pressing his fingertips together in thought. "Said he'd never seen him before in his life. He just ordered and paid for a bottle, sat down in one of the corners and drank almost the whole thing before leavin' again. What really made him stick in his mind was payin' with such a large bill."

Adam nodded. "Well, at least it's something."

"Cos did give me a real good description of the feller, though." He then began telling the intent listeners the description of the man: his approximate height, the presence and length of facial hair, and even his clothes, after which all of them agreed they'd never seen the stranger either. "I told you I'd let you know the minute anythin' came up. Silly old coot that I am, I got downright crazy when I saw that marked bill," he laughed. "I reckon you'll wanna come in tomorrow mornin' and ask Cosmo some questions yuhself."

Adam nodded. "Yes, we would. Thank you for coming to tell us, Roy."

The old lawman looked down at his boots. As if they need to thank me for doing so little. "Just doin' my job, Adam. But I'll be headin' back now."

"But you can't head back tonight," Adam said, hearing the wind pick up even more. "The weather's far too bad to try'n make it back. We'll put your horse up and be delighted if you'd stay here the night."

Roy seemed reluctant, but decided it would be best to take Adam up on his considerate offer. "Alright, I will. Thank yuh kindly," he agreed smiling before following Hoss over to the settee while Adam and Joe put on their coats and left to take care of his mount. "Ah, thank yuh, Hop Sing," he said, gratefully accepting a steaming cup of coffee.

Standing guard by the cave entrance, Jesse raised his gun as the irregular-sounding footfalls approached. Suddenly, a thin figure stumbled from the darkness into view, and Jesse slowly eased the rifle away from his cheek. "What in tarnation are you doin', Sam? Why didn't you give the countersign?" he asked. "Where have you been? You're late."

"Oh, just 'round," Sam said, a slight slur to his voice. "That Cartwright kid went home, just like I said 'e would."

As he swayed past him, Jesse could smell the unmistakable odor of whiskey waft from the man. "Hey, where'd yuh get the booze, Sam?" he asked, his face lighting up at the prospect of getting a little nip on such a cold night.

"Saloon," was all the reply he got, but that little bit was enough to make every other man in the cave stop with bewilderment and concern on their faces, not for themselves but for the foolish man who dared go against the boss's orders.

Hank came up to him, and roughly took him by his coat front, "You stupid fool. Boss said nobody was to go into town," he said harshly, his voice low so it wouldn't carry over into the adjoining passageway where a light was burning. But apparently, he hadn't kept it low enough.

"That's right... that's what I said..." a voice sounded from the deep passageway of the cave.

They quickly turned and saw a black figure silhouetted against the dim lamplight. Just the sound of the grave and unemotional voice echoing through the shadows sent a chill up the men's spines.

Sam turned to the shadow, emboldened by the booze. "Listen, Boss," his speech slurred. "We've been up here fer over two months and not in that whole time have we had a shot a whiskey. Today I had enough, and all I did was go in town and get me a coupla drinks. Now whus wrong with that?"

There was no reply.

Sam continued. "All I did was get a drink. I didn't go nowhere else, just tuh the saloon," he stopped to belch before continuing. "'N' everybody goes through the saloon. I'm no different."

Silence once again.

He was beginning to think he'd been forgiven when he heard the voice speak again, "Where'd you get the money for it?"

The men turned back to Sam, who began acting a little squeamish. Sam kept trying to tell himself he had done nothing wrong; it was his money anyway. They were going to split it up, that was the deal. They just hadn't yet. "Well, Boss... it was some a the money from that last job we pulled," he answered matter-of-factly, his voice raising slightly.

The dark figure came a little closer letting the firelight fall over his face, but his face alone. The man's head was almost completely gray with some scattered black still remaining. The stone black eyes never wavered as he began to speak again, the scar on his cheek moving with his words. "You took some of the payroll money... into town." It wasn't a question, but more of a statement encompassing all of the ways Sam had violated orders, and the accused man could feel sweat start to tingle his palms and back.

Trying to come to his own defense, he started, "Boss, it was just one little drink. Maybe I shouldn'ta..." he was never able to finish his sentence as a shot rang out from the silhouette, and Sam fell to the floor of the cave, dead, blood trickling from a bullet wound to his upper chest.

The men in the cave jumped at the loud noise in such close quarters and looked into the darkness to see a smoking gun being put back into its holster. Speechless, all the men gazed at the dead man. They knew the Boss would not tolerate any departure from orders, but they never imagined he'd go as far as killing a man for it. Up until this point he had been so steady and predictable, but now he seemed almost obsessed with his mission. They caught a sign of this with the cattle incident, with the waste of that valuable herd, but to kill one of their own? The only thing that was still attaching them to the man was their greed, greed to get a share of the great Ponderosa. Sam may have been foolish for what he did, but they knew he would never have done such a foolish thing if he knew what the consequences would be. Now he'd never have the chance to make that, or any other mistake, again.

The Boss then left the passageway and entered the main cavern. He looked at the lifeless figure before him and stood gazing at it for quite some time, his amazingly keen mind already deciding the best way to use this turn of events to his advantage. Having made his decision, he turned to Hank. "Take the gun and empty his pockets. Put the body on the side of the main road, south, outside of Virginia City."

Hank understood the boss's idea and couldn't help but marvel at the ingenious plan. Make it look like a simple robbery, and if anyone recognized him as the man in the saloon, so much the better. He silently nodded.

Without another word, the leader disappeared into the adjoining room from which he came. This one was much smaller, but suited his needs perfectly. On his way over to his makeshift desk, he passed the all-too familiar figure huddled on a dirty blanket in the corner, manacles encompassing his wrists and the chain attached to a ring thrust deep into the solid rock wall. The prisoner's eyes followed the man across the room and continued to look at him as he took his seat at the worn desk once again.

I can't believe he shot one of his own men. He had heard everything that happened in the adjoining alcove, and he was filled with despair over the present situation. He had been hoping that there would be some mishap that would hopefully lead someone to his discovery, but that hope was dwindling. He seems to have thought of everything, accounted for everything. All this incident proved was that this hateful man wouldn't let anything come between him and his revenge. He couldn't tell if his shivering was due to the cold dampness he'd been enduring or the barbaric display he had just witnessed, but he knew that the returning tears that stung his eyes were from the vicious and heartless part he was forced to play in this man's diabolical scheme.

Looking back at the cold-blooded killer, Ben Cartwright warned, "You'll never get away with this."