Chapter

Inquisition

Joe and Henshaw were marched across the street, Roy and Clem behind them and on either side. The small room was filled with curious townsfolk. With the rumors that had been flying around this booming city of the ill fated stage and now one of the most prominent citizens being in the front line. It was a bright hall with large bay windows, painted mostly in white but trimmed in sky blue. Brent was at the front with Mr. Prescott, the town prosecutor. The gallery was filled up with many familiar faces. People whom they knew throughout the town. Their family doctor, Doc. Martin, was among those in attendance. In the seats along the left wall of the judge's bench, the Cartwright's sat. His pa nodded a soft and supporting smile, when he saw him enter. Joe couldn't help but feel the guilt over all that was happening. His father and brothers were here as he knew they would be, to support him. As they always had been and would continue to be up until his dying days. He gulped at the morbid thought, fearing those days were closer than expected. His heart only ached for them now and what he was putting them through.

They led him and Henshaw to the long table in front of the judge's bench. Ms. Hayden was already there. She was dressed up, just as elegant as the first time he had seen her in Benton Falls, when she caught his attention with her remarkable beauty. Of course, that was before he really knew her and how ugly she could really be. The lawmen sat them next to her and removed their manacles. Ms. Hayden hadn't been wearing any when they saw her. Whether she had worn them in or not Joe didn't know. Roy and Clem took a position against the right wall in the space between the judge's bench and the bench the three accused sat at.

"Hear ye, hear ye." The court clerk stood. "This court is now in session. All stand for the honorable Judge Wolik." An older gentleman came in from a door behind the bench.

"Take your seats." The judge said as he took his place at the high table. He opened up a folder he brought in with him. Adjusting his monocles, he read down the line. "On Tuesday, August 18th a Union Stage en-route from Benton Falls failed to make its destination into Hallows Point. Six passengers were on board that stage. They are as follows: Mr. Leon Henshaw, Mr. Joseph Cartwright, Ms. Laurie Hayden, Mr. Howard Benson, Mr. Roberto DeSoto, and a Ms. Nora Whitley. The Driver of that stage was one Mr. Alex Barday. On the morning of Sunday, August 23, approximately one week after the original stage went missing, three of the six missing passengers; Mr. Henshaw, Mr. Cartwright and Ms. Hayden; were found at Hallows Point. That same day the bodies of the other three passenger's; Mr. Benson, Mr. DeSoto, Ms. Whitley; and that of the stage driver; Mr. Alex Barday; were located and recovered.

He looked out at the court before continuing. "This is an official inquisition." His tone was dry. "We are here today for two reasons. The first is to determine if we have a criminal case, to be more specific, to determine if any or all of the deceased, met their demise through extra-ordinary means, murder or manslaughter; and second, in regards to their deaths to determine whether any or all of the three individuals before us, that of Mr. Leon Henshaw, Ms. Lori Hayden or Mr. Joseph Cartwright; the three surviving passengers of the Union Stage in question; should be held over for trial to answer for these crimes. Before we call our first witness. I would like to give the three in question a chance to speak. I'm addressing all three of you at once. I was informed that until now the three of you have been pretty tight-lipped about the events that took place in that desert. I'm giving you a chance here today to tell your story and perhaps save the court the effort it might take to go through this process." Ms. Hayden gave a side-glance to her co-defendants, but the three remained just as silent as they had been up to now. "If you are afraid of reprisal from your co-defendants, I assure, you need not worry. The court can offer some assurance of protection." Not a peep from any of them. "Very well then. At this time, I would like to excuse the three in question. Sheriff, would you please take them away."

"Your honor." Ben jumped from his chair. "This is highly unorthodox. The accused have a right to face their accuser." The spectators erupted at the outburst. The judge was caught off guard at the disrupt.

"Order! Order! Sit down!"

"Mr…?" He addressed the instigator.

"Cartwright." He answered. The judge glanced at the youngest of the passengers as he came to understand the passion that came from the elder.

"Mr. Cartwright. At this time, they aren't being accused. I will remind the court that this is only an inquisition. We are just here to find answers. To determine whether or not we even have a criminal case. Mr. Cartwright, you may not be familiar with law, but I am. So, since you so forthcomingly called my directive into question, I will inform you that a defendant does not have the right to attend their own inquisition. You are free to explore this on your own accord if you are so inclined to do so. Now, Mr. Cartwright, this explanation came as a courtesy because I respect the position you are in but I will not continue to defend myself to you or any other man who calls my methods into question. If I get anymore outburst like that from you during this proceeding, you will be removed. Is that clear to you?"

Ben looked obdurately among the spectators. They weren't too used to the cattle baron being publicly shamed. At a time when his own son was in such dire straits, that had to be a difficult pill for him to swallow. For the sake of his son, swallow it he did.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Please, take your seat or leave my courtroom." Ben reclaimed his chair. "In the event that we do find any or all of the witness culpable to face trial, I don't want the accused building up their defense by hearing the evidence presented today. Sheriff, if you please."

The sheriff manacled the men and took them away. Brent Simmons who brought the female in, took control and led her back out.

When the court had been cleared of the sequestered, the judge continued. "Let's hear from our first witness. Mr. Prescott?"

"Yes, Your Honor." The young attorney stood. "The court calls Mister Carl Maccaro."

The dark-haired man was in his late twenties, perhaps early thirties. He had a sharp jawline with handsome but rugged features. He was cleaned up. A subtle contrast from the days that Hoss had spent out in open country with him.

After taking his seat in the witness chair the attorney began.

"Carl Maccaro, can you describe your involvement in the matter?"

"Yes. A Union stage, scheduled to be in Virginia City on August 19th, had failed to arrive at its destination. Since its departure of Benton Falls, nobody has seen nor heard from it. It had just gone missing. The stage-line had assigned me to head up a posse to find this stage and its missing passengers."

"and it was in this capacity that you found the bodies?

"That's correct."

"Can you describe for the court how that came to be?"

"We had a posse of about ten men, which included Hoss Cartwright. The older brother to one of the missing passengers."

"That would be Joseph Cartwright?"

"Yes."

"Go on."

"We searched for that stage and them passengers for three days. On the morning of the fourth day, we rode back to Hallows Point. We had made the decision to begin our days search from there. However, when we had gotten to Hallows Point, we had discovered the passengers were right there waiting for us. The ones that had survived at least."

"That would be, Mr. Leon Henshaw, Ms. Laurie Hayden and Mr. Joseph Cartwright?"

"That's correct."

"Continue."

"We were informed by the Station Manager, that out of the four of them that died, only the first two had a proper burial. That by the time the last two had perished, the remaining survivors were so enfeebled, that they no longer had the energy left to bury the bodies. If they had used their remaining energy, then they might not have had what it took to crawl their way out of that desert. They admitted that they had made minimal effort to secure the bodies, but their priority was to get to a place where they could be rescued. The condition in which they were found supported this claim. The manager had cleaned them up by the time of our arrival and they'd had the chance to properly rest, however they were still in a weakened state. So weak in fact, that they hadn't done much speaking to me or any of the posse. Fortunately during the hours that they were with the Station Manager, they said enough to him that he was able to direct us to where the bodies lay."

"What did you do next?"

"I directed my men to take all three into town to be seen by a physician and then to ensure that they were given proper food and shelter. All would be compensated by the stage until their financial stability could be reestablished. The young, Mr. Cartwright, had turned down this offer and ensured that what favored him best was getting home. Believing Joseph to be in good hands with his elder brother to care for him, I directed Mr. Hoss Cartwright to take his brother home. I then assigned two of my men to take Ms. Hayden and Mr. Henshaw on into Virginia City and carry out my instructions. These two agreed."

"So, the passengers all left the station. What did you do next?"

"We still had a responsibility to the remaining passengers. The ones that didn't make it. Our intention was to go back to the cavern and bury the two that had not been buried. We had also assured the survivors that we would go back to the crash site and collect as much of their personal belongings as was feasibly possible. We would collect it for the fallen as well, so we would have something to give to the families. Some had left some pretty valuable things."

"But your first stop was the cavern?"

"That's correct."

"What did you discover when you got out there?"

"We found their bodies inside the cavern. They were lain side by side in a crude ceremonious fashion. A few rocks had been placed on top to protect the bodies from local savages. Not much of anything, but understandable, if you take into account the weakened condition of the survivors as well as, the limited rocks available, as this area was quite barren of them. All things considered, what they had done for the victims was kind enough. Fortunately, large prey had yet to discover the bodies. When we proceeded to remove the rocks, we were shocked to discover that both bodies appeared to have been murdered. After much deliberation, I had determined, that the responsible thing to do would be to bring the bodies in, rather than burying them where they were and aiding in the cover up of a crime, so that's what we did. When I got back to the stationhouse, I had the manager send off two telegrams. One to the Stage-line and the other to the Virginia City Sheriff, as this town is the closest town to the incident. The reply I got back from the stage line was a directive, to find the remaining dead and see if they had met their demise in the same manner. So that's what I did. I went next to the line shack. This body had been buried as we were informed it would be. In order to carry out my duties, I had to dig this one up."

"What did you find?"

Brent Simmons came back in this time and made his way back up to the front taking his seat back at the prosecutor's table.

"This body appeared to have been murdered as well, just not in the same manner as the others. I had half my men take this body back to the stationhouse, while the rest of us went out to the third site."

"What did you discover at the last site?"

"We didn't make it there until after dark so we couldn't see much upon digging up the body. As far as we could tell, he bore no apparent signs of foul play, but considering the conditions of the other passengers, I thought it safe that this body be brought back as well. The following morning, we were met by Brent Simmons the Special Investigator for the Union Stage Line and Roy Coffee the Virginia City Sheriff."

"Is that all?"

"No. I made a note that, at the cavern, there were deep impacted footprints at the opening of the mouth, spread out throughout the ground. Over these prints were drag marks as if the bodies didn't die inside the cave but were drug there. I was careful to avoid both these marks as my men worked."

"Thank you. You may step down."

Carl passed Roy as he was getting back to his seat, who was just making his way back in and up to the front to join the others. Clem wasn't with him this time. He must have left him back at the jailhouse. "The court calls Special Agent, Brent Simmons." The pompous agent stood, fixed his tie and groomed down his jacket before walking to the witness stand to take his seat.

~.~

"Special Agent, Brent Simmons in your own words."

"The stage had gotten word that there'd been some murders and sent me out to investigate. Yesterday, early morning, I made contact with the Virginia City Sheriff who was expecting me and we set off together. We rode out to Hallow's Point, where the bodies had already been collected and were waiting for us. After a brief examination, both the sheriff and myself, concluded that the opinions of the posse were correct. We instructed two members to take the bodies back on into Virginia City to be examined by a doctor. We then broke the remaining posse back up and had them go out to the different sites, this time to retrieve what they could and make note of any evidence they could find. Coffee," He cleared his throat. "That is, the sheriff, went to the line shack with a few of the members. I went to the Cavern."

"Alright, and once you got there?"

"I discovered that the ground at the mouth of the cavern was disturbed. Mr. Simmons had informed me of the impacted footprints and drag marks which I looked out for and found very easily. In addition to this, I found blood in a few places on rocks and dirt, both inside and outside of the cavern. Above the cavern beneath some shrubs was where the knife had been discovered."

"Can you describe this knife for us?"

"It was a large bowie knife, six inches in length, two in width, with a leather handle. The Cartwright family confirmed to us, that this knife did indeed belong to that of the young Joseph Cartwright, one of the six passengers aboard the Union Stage."

The Cartwright's shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They had done nothing of the sort except through their shock and horror. Hardly submissible in court. If any of them were to be asked directly, could they lie to protect their own? They'd want to, but how far would that get them? Likely not too far. There would be many more ways to prove the knife was his.

"Thank you, Special Agent."

~.~

"Sheriff Coffee, You went to the line shack?"

"Yes."

"Could you describe for the court what you discovered?"

"I first saw the hole in which Mr. Howard Benson was said to have been buried. It was about five feet in depth, four feet in width and six feet in length. Empty now of course as his body had already been recovered and was on its way back to Virginia City. The shack was in shambles. Appeared to have been cinched up by the new occupants. There was a broken piece of fence line that looked to have been broken recently. Due to some sort of a struggle."

"How about inside the shack?"

"I found two stain marks. The first was a large pool of blood near the left of the entry way. I concluded this was likely where the lethal attack had occurred. There were a few droplets of blood on the floor a few feet away."

The droplets, are you counting them as the second of the two stain marks?"

"No. They were small in comparison. The second one I'm counting was on the wall at the right side of the entryway."

"What was there?"

"It appeared to have been a larger blood smear. Still smaller than the spot on the floor."

"How would you explain the droplets and the smear on the wall? How might they have gotten there?"

"I have theories, but they are just speculations. I can't at this time say anything with any real certainty."

"Thank you."

~.~

When Coffee was excused and Dr. Martin called up to the witness chair, there was almost hurt that bled through the confusion of the Cartwright's. What would Dr. Martin have anything to do with this?

"Dr. Martin. Thank you for joining us here today."

"Your honor." He nodded obeisance.

"Out of the three passengers in question, did you have the opportunity to examine any of them?"

"Yes. I examined Ms. Hayden and Mr. Henshaw." It was beginning to make sense to them what exactly Dr. Martin's role in the matter really was. Of course, they would need a real Doctor to look them over after the ordeal they had escaped. Dr. Martin, one of the few physicians there were in this town, was as good as any of them.

"What did you discover upon your examination?"

"I examined Ms. Hayden first. She had suffered from exposure. Heat illness. She was severely dehydrated. Blistered and burnt by the sun."

"Other than symptoms that may develop from their hike in the desert, did she display any other injuries?"

"Minor bruises and scrapes. She had a minor laceration on her elbow for example, which was already in the process of healing."

"Could these injuries be conclusive with a physical altercation?"

"Could be, but that would be very unlikely. There were no defensive nor offensive marks on her at all."

"Can you give us some examples of what might be considered offensive or defensive?"

"If someone were striking you, it's common to put up one's arms in defense. It would be likely to have some bruising on the exterior biceps or forearms. Offensive injuries would be bloody or bruised knuckles which would be obtained from striking another. Another example would be broken fingernails, from clawing or scratching their opponent."

"You discovered none of this."

"That's correct."

"How about Mr. Henshaw?"

"He was the same in regards to dehydration, heat illness and sunburn."

"How about injuries?"

"He had a wound at the front of his head, where he suffered some blunt force trauma. This too was in the process of healing. Though not very cleanly. I flushed out the wound and rewrapped it. Other than that, he also had minor bruising and cuts."

"Could his injuries have been as a result of an altercation?"

"Also, possible but improbable."

"Because there were no defensive nor offensive marks?" The attorney filled in.

"Correct."

"Did you get a chance to examine Joseph Cartwright, the last passenger?"

"No."

"Are you friends with the family of Joseph Cartwright?"

"Yes."

"How long would you say you've known the Cartwright's?"

"A long time."

"Months?"

"Years?"

"How many years?"

"A few."

"Did you help with bringing Joseph Francis Cartwright into the world?" The onlookers murmured among themselves. The doctor shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes."

"Well, I'd say that's more than a few years, wouldn't you say?" This line of question had taken a sudden turn. For reasons Martin didn't know, he felt as if it were he that were on trial, or his practice. He all at once took on a defensive posture. "Would you say your relationship to this family, since then, is a close one?"

"Yes." Martin shifted again.

"In fact, they come to you with all their medical needs?"

"No." Martin was quick to answer.

"No?" The prosecutor asked curiously, then figured the answer for himself. "Of course. Not when you're away." Martin sat back in his chair. "Do they turn to you every time you're not away?"

"I couldn't say for sure."

"What do you think?"

"Sure. I suppose."

"Have you been away recently?"

"Not since the accident."

"How about before this? Would there be any reason the family would have had for thinking you might have been away?"

"I was away a few months ago."

"Have they seen you upon your return?"

"Yes."

"A few times?"

"Yes."

"And there's been no talk of further plans to leave?"

"Not at this time."

"Do you make house calls?"

"Yes."

"It's a regular part of your job? Is it not?"

"Yes."

"I apologize Doctor, if these questions seem forward. What I'm really interested in knowing, is why Joseph Cartwright would not have been checked out by you, after the ordeal he had experienced."

"I couldn't answer that."

"If you had to form an opinion."

"Perhaps his injuries weren't that serious."

"Of course. That must be it. I have no further questions." Martin met the eyes of the worried father. His look was sorrowful.

"Dr. Martin. You may step down."

~.~

"Dr. Kleitser. You examined the bodies?"

"That's correct."

"Dr. Kleitser. Through your examination, what did you discover?"

"Judging by the state of decay, they were killed in this order. The driver, then the larger male, and last the young man and woman appeared to have been killed roughly about the same time."

"Have you been able to determine cause of death?"

"The young man and woman were both killed with a single slug each. .44 Caliber."

"Could it have been from the same gun?"

"It may have."

"Go on."

"The woman was shot in the back. From the distance of ten yards. The bullet entered her right internal oblique muscle, which is here." He pointed to his own back. "It lodged in the ascending colon. The man was killed at close range. A single slug entering an inch below his left ear and lodging in the skull on his right side. The larger man had been killed a full 24 hours prior. He was stabbed with a large knife entering just under the ribcage at an upwards angle cutting into his xiphoid process and lacerating his heart. He bled out instantaneously."

"The knife that you examined, is it possible that knife could be the murder weapon?"

"The knife that was found was mostly clean, however I did find traces of blood where the handle attaches to the blade as well as within the grooves of the handle. The length and width of the blade do match the length and width of the wound. It is in my professional opinion that the knife examined was the murder weapon."

"And the last victim?"

"Due to the state of decomposition, I determined that the driver was killed a full 48 hours before the stab victim. External injuries were difficult to discern due to the proportion of decomposition. However, several internal injuries were discovered. His shoulder neck and back had been broken, along with three ribs."

"Could these injuries be conducive of a fall?"

"Could be, however his wrist and arms were intact indicating that he made no attempt to catch himself as he fell."

"So, what does that mean?"

"That means if he did obtain these injuries as a result from falling than he was likely not conscious at the time of his fall or something else prevented him from reaching his arms out."

"Is it possible that he didn't reach out because his hands were restrained?"

"It is possible. Though there was no evidence to indicate that."

"Could the state of decomposition hide this evidence?"

"Possible."

"Could it also have been possible that these injuries are as a result of having been beaten to death?"

"This is also possible; however improbable that fist alone could break bones. If he was beaten to death, it is likely that something else was used to cause this type of blunt force trauma. A mid-sized stone or large stick perhaps."

"A kick or stomp?"

"With some force, sure."

"Did any of the victims have any injuries or marks that you did not mention here today?"

"Yes."

"Could you go back and describe those injuries for us?"

"They all exhibited signs of minor hematomas. Bruising and swelling just under the surface of the skin. The woman suffered a small fracture on her humerus. There were splinters of wood in the hands of the stab victim."

"Might these have been obtained from a physical attack?"

"Not likely. It is more probable that these injuries be a result from rolling around in a turned over carriage."

"Thank you doctor."

"Except one."

"Mr. Barday?"

"No. As I've mentioned before. It was more likely that Mr. Barday obtained his injuries from the stage accident."

"Who then?"

"Mr. DeSoto. He exhibited signs of recent injury. Injuries he obtained just prior to his death."

"Can you describe those injuries?"

"He had hematomas throughout his body. These injuries were more recent than the others who might have obtained theirs from the accident. Mainly the ribcage, chest, stomach, back, and face. Indicating he was attacked by someone who's had some fighting experience as these were all areas that somebody who knows what they're doing might attack. His knuckles were bloody, indicating that he'd tried to fight back."

"How do you know that these injuries are recent?"

"The vessels had been broken, leading to a slow bleed. Hardly visible at the time of his death. Given enough time I estimate, they would have turned into full blown bruises."

"Instead?"

"Instead, it appears the heart had stopped pumping prior to that happening."

"Thank you doctor."

~.~

With the witnesses heard from, it was Mr. Prescott's turn to address the court. "The evidence presented here today paints the picture that the deceased did in fact meet their demise through extraordinary means. To be specific they died at the hands of another. That is no longer a question in anybody's mind. The true question, the one that remains, is who'd done it. Who'd killed these people so ruthlessly, so savagely."

"Mr. Prescott." The judge warned. "Now is not the time to grandstand. Let's stick to the facts."

"Your honor." He shuffled some papers on his desk stopping at some handwritten jots. Reading through the sheet and picking it up to hold, he continued. "Two of the four passengers were in some sort of a physical altercation before they died. With who? It would stand to reason that if one of the surviving passengers had been the aggressor that he or she would exhibit similar markings. Mr. Henshaw and Ms. Hayden were both examined by a physician and you heard the results of this examination. Mr. Joseph Francis Cartwright remains the only wild card. If he does indeed exhibit these markings, I believe this evidence should be sufficient enough to hold him over for trial."

"If he doesn't?" The judge asked.

"If he doesn't, then perhaps he is cleared. Perhaps more research needs to be done to find the real killer." Hoss knew the truth. He saw them himself. This could damn his brother.

"Let's pull him in here."

"Excuse me Judge." Doc Martin stood humbly. "Perhaps we could give the boy more privacy than that."

"The court must know."

"The court will know."

"But you're a family friend."

"That's right. I feel he might be more comfortable about the examination, furthermore it should be done in closed quarters."

"Mr. Martin" Prescott left off the title. "Are you suggesting we take an accused murderer to your office?"

"He hasn't been accused yet." The judge reminded.

"That would be most ideal, but I doubt the court would entertain that. The jailhouse should be sufficient enough for what I'd have to do. It's better anyways than bringing him in here and parading him for all to see. We allowed the other two their privacy."

"That is because they volunteered for the examination."

"He should be given no less respect."

"How do we know you'll be honest?"

"I was honest about my findings regarding the other two."

The room fell silent as the judge considered. The judge had realized that Prescott had stopped talking.

"Mr. Prescott, any objections? No objections your honor." He succeeded. "Just a request that I be present for it. I'd like to be able to see for myself."

"Pa. If they see what I saw yesterday." Hoss whispered in. "They're gonna for sure think he's guilty."

"I know son." Ben didn't know how to keep this from happening. He couldn't protect his son. All he knew to do was just be there for him. "We're going too." He stood.

"Now Mr. Cartwright, there is no cause for you to go too."

"We're his family. Of course, there is." The judge saw in the eyes of the ailing pater a desperate need to protect his boy. A pained determination. He nodded a sympathetic acceptance.

"We'll all go." The entourage, meaning: the judge, the doc, the attorney and the Cartwright's all led by Roy; cleared out of the courthouse and made their way across the street to the jailhouse. Clem who was working on paperwork at the desk, stood at the intrusion.

~.~

"We need to see Joseph Cartwright."

Clem looked to Roy at the left of the crowd for confirmation, who nodded his approval. "Sure thing." He guided the men back to the cages. The entourage flooded the back room. Henshaw who was sitting on his bench, lifted his head from his hands.

Joe who was laying with his back turned, looked over his shoulder at the group of men. His bruised cheek more pronounced than hours ago. Bbefore the burden of guilt relied on this.

His family standing behind them all with ache in their chest.

"Please stand for us, son." It was the judge who called upon him.

He was so confused. He rolled over, glancing to his kin for comfort and stood. "Step forward please." The wrapped appendage took the forefront. "Reach your left hand through the bar."

The doc took it tenderly and very methodically unwrapped the bandage from Joseph's hand. His heart fell at the site. It was bruised. They all could see.

"Would these be injuries indicative of an assault?" The attorney asked over his right shoulder.

"Yes." He answered lowly.

And now Joseph understood why they all were here. Somehow, during the proceedings this had become the waver of decision.

"Joseph Francis Cartwright. Would you please remove your shirt for us?" Joseph sucked in a dread filled breath. His eyes glistened with fear. The boy gulped and looked back at his kin but knew they couldn't save him. He began fumbling with his buttons, releasing them one at a time. His jaw tightened at the fear of the judgment he knew would come. The guilt he'd been trying to hide revealed for all to see. He took the shirt off from around his cream-coffee shoulders revealing his torso. This was enough to condemn him. No point in hiding the rest now. He bravely removed the shirt from his back. The room was in an uncomfortable silence.

"Is this enough evidence for you judge?" Locking eyes with his pa. He had such a look of utter disappointment.

"I will give you my answer after lunch." The judge left the room. One by one, each man walked out. The family remained behind.

"Son, what is going on?"

"I really messed up pa." His voice broke.

For the first time Ben himself felt the wall of certitude begin to crumble.

"Did you kill these men?"

All he could think about, when his father asked him this question, was Barday, pronouncing him guilty.

~.~

Adam slipped out of the jailhouse, leaving his pa and brothers inside.

There were a few watchmen sitting in the bar this time, a beer before each man. One jumped up right quick when Adam came in and went for the stairs. He was quick to stop him from going up. It seemed they were much warier of him this time around. Perhaps yesterday's exploits have caught up to him.

"Relax, I'm heading up to my own room." The watchman looked back at the others. One nodded his head as if to say 'He's okay. Let him go.' The man stood back seemingly trying to decide whether this was good enough for him eventually conceding and letting Adam go. Adam continued on up to the second floor and to the silent hallway. He stood in front of the room he shared last night with his pa and brother wondering what business he had in here. He knew why he came here and he knew his business wasn't in this room. Across the hall and just one door down was her room...and it was opening up.

"I thought you were the caterer." She proclaimed to the lengthy man whom was standing in the hall. She escaped to close her door. Without hesitation Adam rushed over, sticking his foot in her door. "Ms. Hayden, we need to talk."

She startled and reclaimed herself. "Lawman, huh?" She started.

"To be fair, I never actually claimed to be a lawman."

"You sure weren't quick to correct us."

"I want to talk about Little Joe."

"You can't threaten me."

"I'm not here to threaten you. I just need to know what happened out there."

"So does everybody else. I guess you'll just have to wait till it comes out in court."

"When? When is it going to come out? Because as far as I could tell, nobody's talking."

"Then, I guess we'll just have to let the evidence speak for itself."

"My brother is being ripped apart down there. They are pegging him as a murderer. Now he's been in some pretty rough scrapes a time or two, but I know my brother is not capable of what they're saying. Now if you know something that can help him, I need you to spill it."

"What makes you think that what I have to say will help him?"

"Ms. Hayden, I know that my brother did not do this."

"You know this huh?"

"That's right."

"How sure are you?"

"Ms. Hayden, if you have something to say, then say it."

"You think he's so innocent?"

"Yes. I do."

"You want to know what he's capable of?"

"Tell me."

"He tried to kill us." She spilled passionately.

"What?"

"That's right."

"Are you telling me Little Joe was the murderer?" She cinched her lips obstinately defiant. "You're saying Little Joe tried to kill you?" She faltered and turned away. Adam's frustration had burgeoned. "Answer me?" He forced, spinning her around to face him.

"Get your hands off of me. I'll scream." The boy saw the truth in her eyes and took his hands from her. "I think you should leave. Now!"

~.~

'All the signs point to this boy.' Henshaw reflected. 'Perhaps it was better just to put the boy out of his misery. Let him go down for this. Let him hang.

In an irreversible instant both of their troubles would all be over.'

He imagined his young, tortured form, swinging high, swaying with the wind. He sighed at the imagery. This innocent child, hanging like the worst of them. All the time This withered old man, knowing the boy was guiltless despite how the boy saw himself, looking on. Saving himself and yet condemning himself with the release of the hatch.

Coming back to the moment, he dropped his face to his hands. If the boy just admitted what he needed to then he would be freed from this burden. Why won't the boy just defend himself?

He knew why. After seeing him toss and turn last night in his dreams, after hearing his mournful pules; he knew why. It was because of the guilt he bore over what happened them. He wasn't even considering, what they did to him, to make him do it.'

They all shared in the responsibility.