Blood Brothers

by Judy

Dedicated to my friends who also love Bonanza. 

This story is a “prequel” to the episode entitled “A far, far better thing”; it deals with Little Joe’s friendship with the Indian 'Sharp Tongue'.  It is a story about difficult friendships and prejudice. As usual, I have added a few things just for fun.  Please feel free to ignore them or explore them as you prefer. 

 Chapter 1

Despite it being time for the school bell to be rung at any second, the schoolyard was abuzz with activity, with several different groups of students engaged in various activities.  The younger children were playing a game of Red Rover, Red Rover; while the older students were primarily clustered in two groups, boys on one side of the schoolyard, girls on the other side.   Both of these two groups seemed to be scanning the horizon, as if looking for something or someone.  Just at that moment, the school door opened and the teacher walked out onto the porch and signaled the pre-selected student to ring the bell.  With one last look toward the road leading up to the school, the older students began to shuffle disinterestedly into the building.  At the door, Miss Lambert was greeting the children as they entered the building.  She too, seemed to be looking for someone; someone who was not there.  Sighing, she started to turn to head into the building when she saw what she was looking for coming rapidly down the road.  Breathing a sigh of relief, she stopped ringing the bell and waited.

Little Joe Cartwright galloped into the schoolyard, dismayed to see no students gathered outside.  He bit his lip and shrugged his shoulders; he was late again.   Miss Lambert had cautioned him just yesterday that if he were late one more time this week, she was going to talk to his father.   He quickly jumped off his pinto, tying her in the shade of a stand of trees near other horses.  Despite being late, he took time to make sure Cochise had water and room for good grazing.  Patting her on the side of the neck, he said “Well Coch, I might as well go on in and get it over with.  I will see you at noon.”  Patting her one last time, he headed for the steps of the school building.  He didn’t notice Miss Lambert standing there until he was right in front of her.   He took a deep breath and braced himself, steeling himself for the lecture he knew he was about to get.

Miss Lambert surprised him by saying, “Good morning, Joseph.  I am glad to see that you are right on time.”  Joe looked at her in astonishment, his eyes widened.  Miss Lambert stared back into those green eyes and said, “I called the others in a little bit early this morning, I am afraid”, and winked at him.   Quick to catch on, he smiled mischievously at her and replied, “Good morning, Miss Lambert.  I am glad I wasn’t late again.”  Miss Lambert looked at him, her smile slightly diminished and said, “Don’t press your luck, Joseph.  Now get inside and take your seat”.  As she said this, she steered him through the door.  He stopped to hang his jacket up and put the lunch that Hop Tseng had packed for him in the cubbyhole, then he sauntered in and took his seat, as if he had all day to get there.

As he went in, Miss Lambert heard a chorus of greetings from the other students as he passed by them.  Miss Lambert stood for just a moment in the anteroom of the schoolhouse, wondering if what she had just done was the right thing to do.   Sighing, she told herself that it was all right to give Joseph Cartwright a little leniency now and then.  Smiling ruefully, she realized that there would soon enough be another infraction that would need to be dealt with.  “I can’t spend all my time trying to change the nature of one student---especially one who really is bright, capable, and pleasant.”  Then she firmly closed the front door of the schoolhouse, entered the classroom and headed toward her seat to begin another day of lessons.

The morning passed slowly for Joe Cartwright.  He completed the assignment Miss Lambert had given his age group and while he waited restlessly for the teacher to return to his group or for lunch, his mind wandered to the most special place on earth---the Ponderosa.  He and his father and two brothers lived on the large ranch in Nevada territory. He had been born in the spacious ranch house where they still lived.  The ranch covered 500,000 acres in all, with mountains, meadows, lakes, forests, and open range for the cattle they raised.  The whole ranch was beautiful, especially now that it was spring. 

His most favorite place on the entire ranch was the spot on the shore of Lake Tahoe where his mother was buried. His mother had died nine years ago when he was five years old. He and his father often went together to the lakeside to sit and think.  Joe was full of questions about his mother, but something kept him from asking too many questions about her of his father.  He often went alone and sat there at the lakeside and tried to imagine how his life would have been different if his mother had not died.  He knew that it would have been different, better.  He had heard his father discussing her death with Adam or others and heard him say how much he needed “a mother’s touch”, but he wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.  Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to picture his mother in his mind.

Suddenly, he felt someone poke him in the back and he woke with a start.  He jumped up immediately, wide-eyed, looking for the source of the threat he felt.  Too late he realized that he had been sleeping in class again and the poke had come from his friend ‘Bec, trying to wake him up.  He quickly sat down, and gave ‘Bec a thankful grin.  

“Well Joseph since you seem to be so rearing to get moving, why don’t you come and demonstrate how to solve this problem.” Miss Lambert said. 

Joe looked around, trying to think of an escape, but Miss Lambert walked over to him and handed him the chalk and gave him a gentle push on the shoulders, propelling him to the chalkboard.  Joe was distressed to see the particular arithmetic problem Miss Lambert referred to.  It was one of those new kinds of problems she had started teaching them when she got in a new shipment of books from her parents.  It was something she called “Algebra” and he hated it already.  It had no practical purpose that he could see and besides, he correctly solved a problem and discovered what “X” was, but then he discovered that in the next problem, “X” would be some other number.   Now she was coming up with problems with Xs, Ys, and Zs to solve.  Joe sighed, and slumped his shoulders and walked slowly to the board at the speed at which someone facing a firing squad would demonstrate.   He looked at the problem and felt a knot in his stomach initially.   

-2X + 2Y = 5

Solve for Y  

When he first reached the board, he felt overwhelmed by the problem.  He muttered to himself, “I bet Adam could solve the problem.”  He glanced over his shoulder, looking for help from some of his friends, but he realized that they didn’t know how to solve the stupid problem either. 

 “Joseph, do you remember what you have to do to clear a term?” Miss Lambert prompted.

At first this was not helpful either, but just as he was getting desperate, he remembered something about doing the “opposite operation to clear a term”.   He spoke hesitantly, “Do the opposite operation?”   

“Correct, Joseph.  Very good.  Now how do you think you could clear the term to solve for Y?” she again prompted.

 Buoyed by her praise, he looked at the problem again.  Again hesitantly he said, “So I have to get rid of the 2?” he asked.

 “Excellent, Joseph.  How can you do that?”

Again he looked at the problem, feeling more like a detective than a math student.  After a few seconds, he thought he knew the answer.  Out loud he said, “Add 2X?” 

“Excellent, Joseph!  But if you add 2X, what else do you have to do?”  She again prompted.

 Then he knew the answer, he replied triumphantly, “Add 2X, then divide by 2!”

 “Again, excellent, Joseph!”  Miss Lambert said.  “Now then, all…”

 Just at that moment, the door of the schoolhouse opened.  Miss Lambert looked up to see who was interrupting her class.  She was surprised to see Renfro Carter, the Story County Superintendent of Schools and Granville Meadows, a member of the school board.  Mr. Carter nodded and indicated that he needed to speak with her.  Miss Lambert nodded and turned toward Joseph and said, “Excellent job, Joseph.  That will be all for now.”  She glanced at the small clock on her desk and decided that it was close enough to lunch to give them their lunch break now.  “Class dismissed for lunch.” She announced.  The children, excited to have a few minutes extra for lunch, jumped up and began to make their way to the door.  Joe stopped at the desk behind his, where Rebecca Larson was putting away her books.  

“Joe Cartwright, how did you know how to solve that problem?” she asked skeptically.

“Beats me, Bec” he grinned at her.  “Beats me.” 

“Hey, Joe, My Mama sent you a piece of chocolate cake, since you didn’t get to come by after church for some yesterday.” She told him mischievously.  “But she said to tell you, that she ought not to do it, after that stunt you and Billy pulled.” She was laughing by the time she got this out.  Joe laughed and said, “Oh, Bec, you know your Mama thought it was funny too.”  “Well perhaps she did, Joe, but from the looks on your Pa’s face, he didn’t think it was that funny.” Joe sobered quickly, “No, Pa didn’t seem to think it was too funny at first, but I heard him and Hoss talking about it later.  By then he thought it was funny, too.  ‘Course he will never let on to me that he did.” Joe said. 

Rebecca laughed and said, “Little Joe Cartwright, you are incorrigible!”  “Hey watch those big words, Bec, you never know, I am liable to look one of ‘em up in the dictionary one day and find out what you have been calling me all this time.” He said, giving her a gentle punch on her arm.  Laughing, they grabbed their lunches and headed out to the shade of the trees to join the others for lunch.  The incident Rebecca referred to had happened yesterday at church.  There had been a brief meeting of the adults to discuss the selection for the new minister and they had dismissed the children so the adults could discuss the issue without worrying about keeping cranky children still and quiet.  Little Joe had seen that as an opportunity to escape and he had gone outside with the rest.  His father had started to make him stay, but knowing how fidgety he was, decided to let him go. 

When the adults finished their meeting, they came out and headed toward where they had left their wagons.  But soon there was a confused crowd of adults and giggling children.   No wagon was where the family had left it, instead some other wagon and team was waiting.  In a short period of time, Joe had the idea and directed the other children to move the wagons around.  There was general confusion as the adults looked all around the church to find the wagon and team belonging to them.  When Ben Cartwright came out and saw the confusion, he immediately called out “Joseph!”  Joe had gone and tried to look completely innocent, and he might have gotten away with it, but Billy looked too guilty and he confessed the whole thing.  Ben Cartwright had made Joe and Billy go around and help each family locate their wagon and apologize.  The whole episode didn’t take more than 30 minutes, but his father had rescinded his earlier permission to lunch with the Larson’s and then join the other children at the lake for swimming.  Instead he had made Joe go home and stay inside all afternoon.

Chapter 2

When the older students had finished eating, they sat around under the trees talking.  Joe and his friends were discussing their plans for the summer.  Joe was telling them that this was going to be his last year at school if he could just figure out how to get his father to go along with it.  He knew, as the rest of them did, that it was not going to be easy to convince Ben Cartwright to let his youngest son quit school, but he had let Hoss quit even before he was 14 so there was no reason he couldn’t quit too.   After several minutes of big talk about what he was going to tell his Pa, their conversation drifted to another favorite topic---girls.  Little Joe had recently realized that he didn’t hate girls any more.  In fact, he had decided he liked girls—he liked them a lot.  He had always had friends whom were girls, like Bec and Nancy Coffee, but now he was finding himself attracted to girls for more than just friendship.  The other boys had started teasing him good-naturedly about how all the girls liked him.  He smiled and pretended that he disagreed.  But truthfully, he knew that he did have unusually good luck with girls; in fact, he had always gotten along well with females.

Too soon, the bell rang again; signaling the end of the lunch break, and the students began to shuffle back into the school building.  As they were headed back into the classroom, a scuffle broke out between some students in the rear of the group.  One of the older boys was teasing one of the younger children.  Joe and his friends stopped their discussion and watched.  As the disagreement escalated, Joe went back and looked down at the younger child and said, “Jeffrey why don’t you go on inside?  I need to talk to Walter.”   As he said this, he firmly pushed the younger boy toward the school building and stared into the eyes of Walter, the school bully. 

“You stay out of this Cartwright.” Walter said glaring back at Little Joe.  

“Walter why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Little Joe said, still staring at Walter.

“Maybe I will just pick on someone your size, Cartwright.” Walter replied.

“Boys!  Come inside right now.” Miss Lambert called out to them, noticing the near confrontation in the making.  “Right now!” she repeated more loudly and more sternly.  Finally, Little Joe said, “We are coming Miss Lambert.   We are all done here.  Aren’t we Wally?”  Walter grimaced at the use of Wally, a nickname he hated and everyone knew he hated.  “Yes we are finished here for right now, LITTLE Joe he said, emphasizing the “Little”.  Joe’s eyes locked with Walter’s for a moment and for a tense moment, it appeared that nothing could prevent a fight.  But Miss Lambert had walked up to the two boys and inserted herself between them.  Firmly grasping Little Joe by the arm, she said, “Let’s get inside gentlemen.  Right now.”  Little Joe glanced at Miss Lambert and said, “Yes, Ma’am.”  Then he turned to Walter and said, “After school, Walter.”  Miss Lambert at that moment, decided that Little Joe Cartwright would be staying in after school that day.

Lessons progressed very slowly the rest of the afternoon.  Miss Lambert caught Little Joe daydreaming again and before he could think of a way out of it, she told him he would stay after school and write an entire essay on what he was thinking when he should have been paying attention.  He couldn’t understand why she became so cross and didn’t give him a chance to answer the question.  He was daydreaming, but he still had heard enough to keep up with what was going on. Rebecca Larson had been watching the teacher watching Little Joe all afternoon and had been puzzled.  When she caught him daydreaming and announced that he would have to stay after school, Rebecca immediately knew what Miss Lambert was up to, and she gave the teacher a big smile and a slight nod of her head.  Miss Lambert smiled and winked at Rebecca and turned back to the rest of the class.  Rebecca turned to see a sullen Joe Cartwright and chuckled softly to herself.   Miss Lambert just saved him from a beating and he had no idea.  “Men!” she thought to herself.  “What idiots.”

At the end of the day, Miss Lambert said she had an announcement to make and demanded their full attention.  This was unusual, so everyone stopped collecting their papers and turned to listen to their teacher. 

“Tomorrow we will have a new student joining our class and I will expect you to be on your best behavior.” She said.   One of the older girls spoke up, “Is it a boy or girl, Miss Lambert?”  There was a general concern among the girls that there were far more girls than boys in the Virginia City School.  Miss Lambert smiled and said, “Well it is a boy, Jennifer.”  Jennifer and several other girls smiled. 

Miss Lambert continued, “However, this student is an unusual student and will not be familiar with all our customs and may initially have some difficulties with our language.  I will expect you all to help him.”

“Is it one of them “eye-talians” Walter spoke up, setting off disruptive chortles among his peers.

“No, Walter, he is not Italian.” She said, pronouncing the word carefully and correctly.

“It ain’t one of them Chinks is it?” he asked again with an angry voice.

Little Joe spoke up before Miss Lambert could respond, saying angrily, “They are Chinese, Walter, not Chinks.”  He had turned around and was staring at Walter, his outrage obvious in the tensed muscles in his face and the hard stare on his face.  Rebecca, watching this exchange thought that Joe Cartwright was very handsome when he was angry.  She knew that his anger was fueled by his relationship with Hop Tseng. 

“Walter, if you say one more word, you will be sitting in the third grade seats in the morning.” Miss Lambert said, watching the over-sized third grade boy.  He knew that she meant it, since she had made him sit with the little kids on other occasions.  He didn’t say anything, but continued to stare at her.

“Now then, if I may please have your attention.  The student who will be joining us tomorrow is from this area, but you do not know him.  He is 14 years old and he is the son of the Chief of one of the smaller tribes of Piute Indians.”  Several students gasped and one student dropped a pencil.  Miss Lambert raised her hand to silence the students and continued.  “His name is Sharp Tongue.  He attended school at the Mission school briefly before the school was forced to close when their teacher went back east.”  She glanced around to see the student’s reactions.  Their silence was unexpected, and she felt it was a worse sign than if they had been noisy.  She knew that she had not gotten through to them, but she didn’t really know what else to say.  She was still shocked over the decision herself.  “This is not going to be easy.” She thought to herself.  Outloud she said, “Class dismissed.” 

As the students began to rush out of the room, they recovered their voices and she could hear the shock and the disbelief in their conversations.  She knew what would be the major topic of discussion at the student’s homes that night.   She turned and went back to her desk and sat down.  The intensity of the reaction to the announcement had made her temporarily forget that she had required Joe Cartwright to remain.  He was sitting at his desk, watching her.  He spoke up softly, “Miss Lambert, was this what Mr. Carter and Mr. Meadows were here about? “

She looked at him and half-smiled and said, “Yes, Joseph.  They had already made the decision.  It is up to me to make it work, however.” 

“Miss Lambert, people around here won’t like it.  Don’t they know that?”  He asked incredulously. 

“Well Joseph, they will just have to accept it.  It is out of our hands.”  She said. 

“Now then, Joseph, what were you day-dreaming about in my class earlier today?”  He blushed slightly and replied, “I was just thinking about how pretty it is up by the shore of Lake Tahoe on spring days like today.” He answered truthfully.  “But Miss Lambert I was still listening, at least some.” 

“I see, Joseph.  So do you think when I am teaching that I only want you to listen to me “some”?” she asked.  As she was talking, she had moved in a circle around the room, looking out the windows on both sides and then she went to the front door of the school building to see if Walter or any of his friends were still hanging around.  Seeing none, she walked back to stand by Joe’s desk.  “All right, Joseph, I am going to let you off easy this time, but I expect you to listen to me 100% when I am teaching you.  Is that understood?” 

He looked at her, almost afraid to believe that she was letting him off the hook for the second time in one day, but he was taking no chances.  “Yes Miss Lambert, I understand.” He replied.

“All right then Joseph, if you hurry straight home, you may be able to get there on time and not have to explain to your father why you are late again!  You may go now, if you promise to go straight home.” 

Joe jumped up, grinned and said, “I promise.” And headed for the door, grabbing his hat and green jacket as he went by.  She went to the door and watched him gather his horse and jump on the horse without putting his foot in the stirrups.  “Such energy and enthusiasm…and such heart.” She thought.  She watched him until it was clear that he was indeed heading straight for the Ponderosa. Then she turned back into the school building and began to get ready for tomorrow’s lesson.

Chapter 3

All the way home, Little Joe was thinking about the news Miss Lambert had given them.  He was excited about meeting a real Indian, especially one his own age.  “Sharp Tongue” he thought, “wonder what that comes from?” He wondered what he would look like and if he would be wearing Indian clothes.  In his imagination he could see the Indian boy in full warpaint, with a long ceremonial headdress, buckskin loincloth, and carrying a knife, tomahawk, and bow and arrow.  “That ought to make school more interesting.” He thought.  In his mind he could see the Indian boy at the chalkboard solving algebra problems in full Indian gear.  His reverie made the trip home go much more quickly than usual and he reached home on time, despite the short delay after school.  He still had no idea why Miss Lambert had reacted as she did, but not one to dwell on potential problems; he didn’t try to figure it out much either.

Hoss was in the barn when he went in to care for Cochise. 

“Hey half-pint, how was school today?” Hoss asked, slapping him on the back, with considerable more force than he intended.  Little Joe however, was used to Hoss’ mannerisms and had braced himself to prevent being flung halfway across the barn.  He grinned and said, “Fine, Hoss, fine.”  Hoss looked puzzled and said, “I was sure you were gonna be late again today.” Then he frowned slightly and said, “Little Joe, you didn’t run that pony all the way to Virginia City, did you?”  Joe assumed his best insulted and offended look and said “Why heck no, Hoss.  You know I wouldn’t do that to Cochise.”  As he said this, he was unsaddling the pony and beginning to give her a rubdown.  He carefully rubbed her down, then checked her feet for any rocks or stones, or any other problem.  Finding none, he emptied out her water bucket and went and refilled it with clean water from the pump.  He was very particular with Cochise, the pinto pony his Pa had given him for his twelfth birthday.  He had loved pinto ponies from the very first time he had seen one on a cover of a book about horses.  He still had the book and it was one of his treasured possessions.  Hop Tseng had put the book away, along with some other mementos of his childhood, in the cedar chest that had belonged to his mother.

“Hey Hoss, guess who is coming to school tomorrow?”  he asked enthusiastically.  Hoss had no idea who might be coming to school but he wanted to play along with his little brother, so he thought for a minute and said, “Some new purty gal?”  Joe grinned and said, “Not even close big brother.”  “Well let me see then, if it ain’t a gal and you are this excited, it must be someone important.  Let me see who could it be?”  After another few seconds he said, “I got it!  Must be one of those wild west shows with the fancy shooting and ridin’!”  Little Joe considered this for a second and said, “No that would be fun, though.”  He said finally, “You will never guess in a million years, Hoss!  Do you give?”   “Well yeah I guess so half-pint, ‘cause you look like you are gonna bust a gut if you don’t tell me soon.”  “Sharp Tongue” Joe said excitedly. 

Hoss looked at him closely, trying to see if his little brother was pulling his leg again, but he could tell from his expression that he was serious.  “The Piute Chief’s son?” he asked incredulously.  “Yep.” Joe affirmed, “the Piute Indian Chief’s son.  Not Winnemucca’s son though, one of the other tribes.  “Joe, are you sure you ain’t just makin’ this up?” Hoss asked, still not ready to accept this information.  It was against the law for Indians to associate much with white folks, even if they wanted to, which most of ‘em didn’t.  “No, Hoss Mr. Carter and Mr. Meadows came and talked to Miss Lambert.  Guess what his name is Hoss?   You’d never guess---his name is Sharp Tongue and he starts tomorrow.  Do you reckon he will wear a headdress, Hoss?”  Joe continued talking excitedly to Hoss, asking and then answering his own questions faster than Hoss could respond.  As he talked he and Hoss finished the chores, Hoss did most of the work, but he didn’t mind because he enjoyed listening to his little brother.  Joe was lively and entertaining, and kept things from ever becoming boring.

When they were almost finished with the chores, Adam came in and Little Joe started all over with his news about Sharp Tongue.  Hoss was amused because he noticed that the more Joe talked about it, the more animated and excited he became.  “Reckon by the time Joe gets to tell Pa, he’ll really be worked up into a right state.” Hoss whispered to Adam when Joe had paused for a second to get his breath.  Joe heard what Hoss said, but didn’t pay it any attention as he resumed where he had left off telling Adam about the visitors coming into the room while he was doing algebra on the board.  That proved to be the wrong way for Joe to start his tale because as soon as Joe mentioned algebra, Adam immediately became more interested in his algebra problem than he was with the news about the Indian.

Adam put both hands on Joe’s shoulders and stared directly into Joe’s eyes to get his attention.  Joe tried to continue talking, looking around at Hoss to see if he was listening, but Hoss was laughing out loud by this time.  Finally when Adam made no response and continued to stare at him and hold on to his shoulders, Joe stopped speaking and said, “What?” with a surprised expression on his face.   At this both Adam and Hoss burst out laughing and their laughter was joined by that of their father.   All three Cartwright sons looked around to see Ben Cartwright entering the barn.   Joe regained his voice first and started out by saying, “Pa guess who is coming to school tomorrow.  You’ll never guess…”  Ben Cartwright interrupted his son’s tale by teasingly grabbing his youngest son from behind and putting his hand over his mouth.  Adam and Hoss were howling by this time, and Little Joe was still squirming trying to lose his father’s grasp and continue talking.

“Joseph!” Ben said loudly, finally managing to get his son’s full attention. He slowly removed his hand from his son’s mouth, but continued to hold onto him.  He said, “Joseph, I am anxious to hear what has got you so excited, but you have to slow down and get your breath before you pass out, Son.  The news won’t be any less exciting if we wait a few minutes ‘til we get in to the dinner table before Hop Tseng gets mad and throws it all away, will it?”  At this question, Hoss got a concerned look on his face and said, “Now dadburn it little brother, there ain’t nothin’ that can’t wait ‘til dinner time is there?”  Little Joe looked at Hoss and said very seriously, “Shoot yeah, Hoss there is one thing that won’t wait ‘til dinner time.”  Puzzled, Hoss asked, “What is so all-fired important that it can’t wait ‘til dinner time, Half-pint?”   “You!” Little Joe replied, laughing.  His laughter was joined by that of Adam’s and Pa’s initially, and then after a moment, by Hoss’.  “Well come on in then, boys before we have a seriously mad Hop Tseng to deal with” Ben said, pulling Little Joe along with him and heading for the house.

The conversation for the evening meal was primarily centered on the addition of the new student tomorrow.  Little Joe was too excited to contain himself and his father and brothers were too indulgent to try to stop him anyway.  Despite his proclivity for getting into trouble, the youngest Cartwright added joy and merriment to the house that his father and brothers cherished.

Adam was able, with much effort to return the conversation to the subject of algebra and got the basic information out of Little Joe about the kinds of problems they were doing.  Adam was pleasantly surprised that Miss Lambert had included algebra in the curriculum and was glad to hear that Little Joe seemed to have an inkling about it.  “Joe if you need any help, I’ll be glad to help you” he offered.   Joe shrugged and tried to turn the talk back to the new student, but his father adeptly redirected his attention.  “Joseph, do you have any algebra homework tonight?” he asked his son intently.  “Yes sir” Joe mumbled.  “Excuse me, Joseph, I didn’t understand you.” Ben said, which was his polite way of saying, “Stop mumbling, Joseph.”  “Yes sir.” Joe repeated.  By this time, they had finished their dinner and Hop Tseng had begun to clear the table.   

"Well, Joseph, you go get your books and you can do your homework and Adam can supervise it,” Ben said.   “But Pa, can’t Hoss and I play some checkers first?” Joe asked, trying to weasel out of doing that homework, “supervised by Adam”.  His father would not be deterred, however, and the look that he gave him made that quite clear.  “Yes, sir” Joe replied as if he were facing the firing squad.  He trudged ever so slowly up the stairs to fetch his books, causing the three older Cartwrights to laugh, though they did manage to stifle it until he was out of earshot.  Joe returned after taking an inordinately long time to retrieve his books, after doing everything he could think of to post-pone the inevitable.  “I shoulda kept my mouth shut!” he said to himself as he walked slowly back down the stairs.

Adam took Joe’s book and looked at the assignments, “Oh, linear algebra!  That will come in very useful if you decide to become an engineer, Joe.”  “I ain’t gonna become an engineer, Adam.  I’m a rancher and all I am gonna become is an older rancher!  Linear algebra or any other kind of algebra ain’t gonna help me.” Joe said irritably, more for his father’s benefit than for Adam’s.  No matter whose ears the barb was intended for, it fell on deaf ears, as everyone chose to ignore the comment entirely.  For the next hour and a half, Joe worked on algebra, grumbling the entire time about Xs and Ys and quadrants.  Finally, Adam was satisfied that Little Joe could do the problems and was satisfied with the accuracy of the ones he had completed for the assignment.  “All right, Joe, is that all the homework you had?” he asked.  “Yeppers” Joe said, snatching his books and closing them before Adam could decide to do more than he had to.

After the homework, Hoss and Little Joe played several games of checkers, of which Little Joe won all but one.  He was just fixing to set up for another game when his father interrupted and said, “Joe, you’d better get on up to bed now, Son.”   “Ah, Pa”  “Joseph, would you just go to bed one night without an argument?” Ben said with mild exasperation.  Joe started to argue further, but then he paused for a second and said, “Just one night, Pa?  Does tonight count if I go now?”  Ben looked at him in surprise until he caught his eye and saw the twinkle and then he laughed and said, “No, Son, tonight wouldn’t count.  Perhaps you could try again tomorrow night.  Now up to bed.  I’ll be up soon.”  “Okay, Pa. Good night, Adam.  Good night, Hoss.  Night Pa.” Joe said and turned and ran up the stairs.  Ben opened his mouth to admonish him for running in the house, but thought better of it.  Instead he looked at Hoss and Adam and shook his head, all three of them chuckling at the energy of the youngest.

Shortly Ben and Adam and Hoss headed up to bed too.  Ranching was a hard job that began early and they were an early to bed and early to rise family.  With Ben and Adam and Hoss this was their natural inclination; Joe, however was the direct opposite in sleep and wake cycles, so it seemed that he and his father were always at odds over going to bed and getting up.   Joe had taken after his mother, who also liked to stay up late and sleep later in the morning.  Ben smiled as he thought of Marie; Joseph was so much like her.  He knocked softly on his son’s door and was not surprised to get no response.  Joe was in perpetual motion when he was awake, but if he got still, he could be asleep in nothing flat.  Marie used to call it the sleep of the innocent, but Little Joe was frequently far from innocent.  Yet there was an innocence about him that all the practical jokes and devilment he got into couldn’t destroy.  Ben cherished that innocence. 

He opened the door and entered the room.  Joe was asleep, lying on top of the covers, with his pajama bottoms on, without the shirt.  Apparently sleep had overcome him sooner than he had anticipated.  Ben thought about waking him to tell him to finish getting dressed, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort.  Instead he maneuvered him onto his side and then managed to get him under the covers.  He pushed the hair off his forehead out of habit, smiled and whispered “Good night, Joseph.  Sweet dreams.” And started to snuff out the lantern that was burning on his chest of drawers.  Just as he was about to do that, he heard a voice coming somewhere about 2/3 asleep say, “Leave the light on Pa.”  Ben looked back at Joe, who for all appearances was sound asleep and said, “All right Son, I’ll leave the lamp low.”  He adjusted the wick to turn the lamp down to the lowest flame possible and left it on.  Later if he woke up for some other reason, he would come in and douse the light.  If not, it would burn all night.

Chapter 4

“Joe---seph, Joe---seph.  Time to get up, Joseph”.  Little Joe heard the sound coming from somewhere far away, but he fought to block out the sound that was pulling him out of his dream.  He snuggled down into his bed and pulled the covers over his head to block out the sound, without even knowing exactly what it was disturbing him.  He was just settling back into a deeper sleep when suddenly, he was confronted with bright lights and louder, more insistent voices---this time there were two of them.  He opened his eyes to face the assault and when he saw what it was---he yelled “Leave me alone”, but alas, that was not to be.  Adam and Hoss Cartwright were standing, one at the foot of his bed and one at the top of his bed.   The bright light had been caused by their pulling the covers off his bed.  Quickly they each grabbed him, Hoss by the shoulders and Adam by the feet and began swinging him back and forth, telling him they were gonna throw him out the window if he didn’t say “Uncle”.  Aggravated by being so rudely awakened, he was not finding this very amusing and was not inclined to cooperate with the teasing by his brothers, although he usually wouldn’t have minded.   “Say uncle, Little Joe and we will put you down,” Hoss said as he and Adam continued their swinging.  Little Joe was getting dizzy and was just about to capitulate when he saw a shadow come to his door and instead he yelled “Pa!”.  Adam chuckled and said, “Nice try, Joe. Pa is in the barn though and he can’t hear you. Now do you give in or do we swing you some more?”  

“PUT YOUR BROTHER DOWN, SONS” Ben Cartwright bellowed to be heard above the sounds of Joe’s fussing and Adam and Hoss’ laughter.  Immediately, they unceremoniously dumped Joe on the bed.  He sat up and for effect, grabbed hold of his head ostensibly to stop the reeling.  In reality he was fine and was watching his brother’s reactions to being caught out of the corner of his eye, enjoying it immensely.  “Huh, ‘bout time they got caught instead of me” he thought to himself.  “Well, Adam, Hoss if you are finished torturing your younger brother, here, Hop Tseng has breakfast ready.”  Ben said, looking at them sternly.  “Ah we was just funnin’ him, Pa.  We didn’t hurt him.  Did we Half-pint?” Hoss asked, his blue eyes looking very remorseful.  They all looked to Joe for confirmation.  Joe had started putting on his shirt and when he looked up and they were all staring at him, he said, “WHAT?”  Then realizing what Hoss had said, he rubbed his head one more time, to show that they had really done him a grievous injury, then grinned and said, “No Pa they were only funnin’ me.” And then he giggled and said, “Adam I sure wish you could have seen the expression on your face when Pa told you to put me down.”  Adam shrugged and said, “I wish I could have too, Joe.”  They all laughed and then the older Cartwrights left the youngest brother to dress.  “Now hurry up Little Joe, you have to eat breakfast and you have to hurry so you won’t be late for school.”  He hesitated and then added, “Again.”. 

Breakfast was typical for the Cartwrights.  Ben used breakfast as a time to keep up with everyone’s activities for the day and to discuss any ranch activities that needed to be done.  Although it was not intentional, Joe generally felt left out of the conversation, since he had to be in school and wouldn’t be taking part in the daily activities.  His father made an attempt to include him by asking about his school activities and reminding him of chores he had to do after school, but this only served to accentuate the fact that he had to go to school and was not considered to be able to help with the “real” running of the ranch.  This frequently resulted in making Joe touchy; his family never figured out the cause.  This morning was no exception. 

Little Joe had attempted to participate in the conversation about the ranch, but his father had brushed aside his remarks and asked Adam for his opinion regarding the issue under discussion.  After several minutes when that topic had been decided, Little Joe broached the subject of the new horses they would soon be getting ready for sale to the army. 

“Pa, I think we ought to keep that roan horse. He is built solid and is fast and strong.  I think he would be good to keep.  I’d like to break him and train him as a backup for Cochise.” Joe said.  Ben looked at Joe momentarily, nodded, then turned to Adam and said, “What do you think, Adam?  Which one of the new horses do you think we should keep and which should we sell to the army?” Adam responded and then Hoss contributed his opinions.  Joe sat there, fuming, and began playing with his food.  The longer the discussion went on between his father and his brothers, the madder he got.  After a few minutes, he said, “I have to go.” And started to leave the table.  Ben looked at him and said, “Joe, you didn’t eat your breakfast, you need to eat son.”  “I ain’t hungry, Pa.  I have to go or I’ll be late.” He said irritably, rising from the table.  Ben sighed and said, “Very well, Joseph, but get your lunch from Hop Tseng before you go.”  Joe said, “yes, sir” and headed into the kitchen where Hop Tseng had his lunch waiting for him. His father called him back and said, “Joseph, I didn’t hear you tell me or your brothers good bye, son.  You will not forget your manners, no matter how late you will be.”  Joe rolled his eyes, but managed to say “Good bye” with no emotion, so that everyone could tell it was not his idea to do so.  As he left, Ben said, “That boy gets grouchier and grouchier every morning doesn’t he?”

Chapter 5

Joe was fuming when he left the ranch. His father didn’t even give him an answer.  “He thinks I don’t know anything ‘bout horses.  He always has to ask Adam or Hoss.” He said out loud to Cochise.  “Cochise you’re the best horse on the whole Ponderosa and I trained you all by myself, but they still didn’t even listen to me.”  He reached over and patted her on the side, as if to prove that she was the best.  “We’ll show ‘em Coch.  One of these days, we’ll show ‘em all.”  The long ride into Virginia City served a good purpose this morning, as he rode through the green meadows and past Lake Tahoe and the rushing streams, filled to overflowing with melted snow from high in the mountains, be couldn’t hold on to his anger.  It was impossible to ride through the peaceful, breath-takingly beautiful scenery and not be affected by it.  He loved every square inch of the Ponderosa and by the time he reached the school he was no longer angry.   His moods typically changed rapidly; his anger came in a flash and it departed just as suddenly.

When he entered the schoolyard, he was relieved to see that the students were still relaxing outside, meaning he wasn’t late again.  He took his customary time tending to Cochise.  Some of the other students teased him about how he treated that horse, and he had gotten into several fights over it at first, but by now it was commonly accepted.   He knew that his horse was much more valuable than the other’s horses and he knew that fueled part of the teasing.  He had been so glad to get Cochise and loved her so much, that he would risk any amount of teasing to make sure that she was well cared-for.

After settling Cochise for the day, Joe walked over to where the boys were talking to see what they were up to. He heard bits and snatches of a conversation about the “injun” and how he would scalp the little ones if they weren’t careful. Joe realized that Walter and his cronies were scaring the little kids for their amusement.  He walked up to the crowd and said, “Howard, Walter is just teasin’ you.  The Indian boy won’t be here to scalp you.  Besides, Howie, you don’t have enough hair for a self-respecting Indian to fool with.” He said, trying to reassure the young kids.  As he talked, he glared at the bigger boy, remembering that they had unsettled business to attend to.   Walter hadn’t forgotten either and he said, “But you got lots of it Cartwright.  Bet that injun would be able to trade for a lot of furs and skins for your scalp.”  At this several of the younger kids and several of the older girls gasped.  Again the ringing of the school bell interrupted their skirmish.   Joe let himself be pulled into the classroom by Billy and one of the other kids, but he kept his eyes on Walter.   He vowed that he and Walter would settle this before long.

Joe was disappointed to see that there was no new student in the classroom.  “He probably changed his mind,” he thought, figuring that was probably better in the long run.   Still he would have liked to be able to meet an Indian his own age.  He was caught by surprise when he heard his name being called out loud.  He looked around, startled until he realized that it was just Miss Lambert calling the roll and he answered “here” in as deep a voice as he could.  Just as roll call was completed, the sound of horses approached the building and shortly thereafter the door of the schoolhouse opened.  Everyone turned around, expecting to see the Indian boy; but it was the school superintendent again.  Then they noticed there was someone else standing just to the left of the door to the classroom.

Mr. Carter motioned for Miss Lambert to join him, so she quickly asked Rebecca to lead the others in reciting the Preamble to the Constitution. Miss Lambert knew she could count on Rebecca to stay calm and in control of the situation.   Rebecca stood and led the others in recitation of: 

We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution of the United States of America.   

Most of the older students were turned trying to get a good look at the Indian boy, just out of sight to them.  Miss Lambert and Mr. Carter conferred briefly, then Mr. Carter exited the building.  Miss Lambert, waited until the students were through with the Preamble, then she walked to the center of the classroom and spoke quietly but firmly. 

“Class our new student is here.  As I told you yesterday, his name is Sharp Tongue and he is a Piute Indian.  I know that you will make him welcome.   Come Sharp Tongue.    Joseph, you have no one sitting by you, would you please make room for Sharp Tongue?”

Joe couldn’t believe his good fortune and replied honestly, “Yes Ma’am” and promptly slid over on the two-person bench to make room.  All eyes were turned waiting to see the Indian.  The little children and most of the other students were frightened.  They were all shocked at the boy when he finally came out of the foyer and into the classroom.   They had certainly never expected him to look the way he did.  Joe was very disappointed.  Sharp Tongue was wearing blue denim waist overalls, a short sleeve white shirt, work boots, and the worst disappointment to Little Joe---his hair was shorter than his own and he had on no headdress.  Except for his features that looked like the Indians, he was dressed the same or better than most of the children in the room.  No warpaint, no moccasins, no feathers; he didn’t even have a knife.  “Heck” Joe thought, “he don’t look like much of an Indian to me”.

Sharp Tongue walked slowly into the room, truthfully he looked as frightened as the children did.  He swallowed hard and walked to where the teacher had indicated for him to sit.  When he approached the bench, he glanced at the boy sitting there, wondering what his reaction would be.  Little Joe looked at him and smiled and said, “Hello, Sharp Tongue.  I’m Joe Cartwright.  Nice to meet ya.”  Then sensing the Indian boy’s discomfort, Joe turned his eyes back to the front of the room where the teacher had gone.  Joe knew that most of the other students were still staring at him, but he hoped he wouldn’t notice.  He figured if he didn’t notice and didn’t react, the other kids would get bored and forget about him. 

Miss Lambert apparently had the same thought because she relentlessly started into the day’s lessons, without another glance at the new student.  Joe had a hard time paying attention to the lesson, even harder than usual.  He was glad that they weren’t doing that dumb algebra again this morning. If Miss Lambert had called upon him to solve a problem, he would have been unable to think it through.  It was hard enough when he was trying to pay attention, which was not that often anyway. 

Joe would never be described as a scholar; yet he made average or better grades.  He expended the least amount of effort toward his schoolwork that he could get away with.  He never did any additional study, he waited until the last minute to do any outside assignments and did them in as little time that he could, never asked for help, and never did any homework assignment more than once.  Frequently Miss Lambert would ask for the first draft of any paper and make suggestions for improvement.  Joe’s final paper was almost always exactly like the first one.  Yet he made B’s and Cs on his report card.  Adam, of course always made As and he spent a lot of time on his schoolwork; but Hoss had struggled to make D’s and C’s.  Little Joe couldn’t understand why his teachers and Pa and Adam were always on his case about working harder.

At the first break in the long morning’s lessons, Joe smiled at Sharp Tongue and said, “It is probably boring to you, being in a class room all morning.”

“I have been going to school at the Mission; white man’s education is very different from my people’s, but some of it is interesting.” Sharp Tongue said in very good English.

“Well it may not be boring to you, Sharp Tongue, but wait’ll we get to that doggone algebra.  Then you will see what boredom really is.”

Sharp Tongue looked at him and said, “What is this algebra?”

Joe grinned and said, “You don’t want to know, trust me.”

Joe was a little surprised at the reaction of the class. This was just a quick break time that Miss Lambert called a “stretch break”, but was really planned so the younger kids could visit the outhouse.  Generally during this time, several people would come over to Joe’s desk to talk and kid around.  Today, no one had come over, not even ‘Bec or Billy or Steve.  He had heard loud boastful talk from the back of the room from Walter and his buddies, but Joe chose to ignore it until he was at a place and time he could do something to shut Walter up.

Before their conversation went any further, Miss Lambert was calling class back to order.  This time her attention was on the student’s who were Joe’s age.  They started off with history with a quiz on The War of the Roses.  Joe groaned when Miss Lambert started passing out the test papers.  Taking tests was such a waste of time.  Who cared about the silly old Roses anyway he thought.  Joe groaned louder when he read the quiz questions and saw how many there were.  The quiz:

1.       Which King was not involved in the Wars of the Roses?  

a.                King Richard II
b.                King Edward IV  
c.                King Henry IV  
d.               King Henry VI

2.         Who was the famed "Captain of Calais" during this tumultuous period?

a.                Richard Neville
b.               Henry Tudor  
c.         George, Duke of Clarence  
d.        Robin of Redesdale

3.         The battle in which King Richard was killed was....

a.                Barnet
b.               Bosworth field  
c.                 Wakefield  
d.               St Albans

4.         The families fighting for Royal succession in the Wars of the Roses were...

a.                the Stuarts  
b.               the Plantagenet's  
c.                the Hanovers  
d.               the Windsors

5.         Many historians believe the Wars began from a private quarrel between...

a.                the Percys and the Tudors  
b.               the Cliffords and the Pastons  
c.                the Stoners and the Mortimors  
d.               the Percys and the Nevilles

6.         The Kingmaker and his King fell out due to...

a.                different foreign policy desires  
b.                an unliked marriage of the King's  
c.                the King not allowing the Kingmaker's daughters to marry Clarence or Gloucester  
d.               All of the above  

7.         Shakespeare called whom a "proud setter up and puller down of kings"?

a.                George, Duke of Clarence  
b.               Lord Hastings  
c.                Richard, Earl of Warwick  
d.               Richard, Earl of Salisbury

8.         The battle of Teweksbury effectively...

a.          ended the Lancastrian chances for power.  
b.                 ended the Tudor chances for power.  
c.                 gave the throne to Henry VIII.  
d.                 ended the power of the Kingmaker.

9.         The battle of Towton was...

a.                a Lancastrian victory  
b.               a victory for Queen Margaret  
c.                relatively unimportant as a minor skirmish  
d.               the bloodiest battle on English soil

10.        The Wars of the Roses were...

a.          Devastating to the lower classes, whose lives were upended  
b.                 of little historical importance to the growth of Britain  
c.                 of no contemporary importance outside of England  
d.                 a thirty year war of which actual campaigning lasted less than two years

Luckily for Joe, he remembered enough of what Miss Lambert had made him read out loud to the class to remember seven of the questions.  That left three he didn’t know—those were from material that was a homework reading assignment and Joe of course, hadn’t read it.  So for the three remaining questions, he figured out one of them from the information that he had read, although it wasn’t stated implicitly, he was able to infer the correct answer.  That left two questions that he had absolutely NO idea and he was tired of concentrating, so he guessed the answers to those.  As luck would have it, he got one of those correct and one wrong---giving him a score of 90%---much better than usual. 

As the students took the quiz, Miss Lambert spoke with Sharp Tongue trying to assess his level of prior education and was well pleased.  Although he was not as far along as she would have liked, given his age, he was much further along than she had hoped.  She thought to herself that perhaps this wasn’t going to be as hard as she expected.  As the students finished their quizzes and turned them in, Miss Lambert realized it was lunchtime.  It dawned on her that she had not reminded Mr. Carter that Sharp Tongue would need a lunch and she wasn’t sure if he had one or not.  She announced lunch and during the noise as the other children started out to retrieve their lunches and started talking and laughing loudly, she went over to Sharp Tongue and asked if he had brought a lunch.  “No, Miss Lambert, at the mission school, we ate with the fathers.  But it is no cause to worry.  Sharp Tongue will eat after school.”  Miss Lambert was about to offer to share her sandwich when Little Joe spoke up.  “Miss Lambert, Hop Tseng always packs as much lunch for me as he did for Hoss.  Sharp Tongue can share my lunch.”  Miss Lambert grinned at the reference to Hoss, he had left the school much earlier, but he had been a big eater and she remembered the size of his lunches.  “Why thank you Joseph, that would be wonderful.”  With the problem settled, she said, “All right you two get on out of here and eat.  I need some time away from you!”

Joe stood up, stretched lazily and said, “Come on Sharp Tongue, I will introduce you to some of my friends and we can go eat.”  Joe led Sharp Tongue out of the building, after grabbing the more than ample lunch Hop Tseng had sent.  Sharp Tongue’s eyes widened when he saw the bag. 

“What is this “Hoss” you talk of?” 

Joe laughed and said “That is my big brother, who has a horse’s appetite, as well as a horse’s name.” 

“I have to go check on my horse before I eat, you can go ahead and start if you want” Joe said, attempting to hand the bagged lunch to Sharp Tongue.

“I must also check on my horse” Sharp Tongue said.

The two boys went over to the shade and found that they had tied their horses next to each other.  They both laughed as they realized the coincidence---Joe’s horse was a black and white pinto; Sharp Tongue’s was a brown and white pinto.   They were both fine looking animals and they both tended to them and patted them fondly.  They spent a few more minutes going over the other’s horse in detail, checking to make sure that their horse was indeed the best.  After checking, they were both reassured that, indeed, their horse was the best.

After satisfying themselves that their horses were fine, they decided to sit down where they were and eat.  They sat and ate.  Initially their talk was confined to horses and lunch, but as the hour passed, they talked of other things about their life.   The beginning bonds of friendship was forming already and both of them could tell it, and though Sharp Tongue was wary, they were both also excited about it. 

Chapter 6

When they finished eating there was still food left over from the lunch and Joe threw it onto the ground in the edge of the woods.  Sharp Tongue eyed him, surprised to see such a waste of food. 

Joe noted his look and said, “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“In my village, food is sometimes scarce, to throw away so much food seems wrong.” Sharp Tongue replied.

“Does your village need food now, Sharp Tongue?”  Joe asked, alarmed.

“No, in the springtime there is much food, it is just in the winters when food is scarce---at least until the white man kill all the buffalo and the deer and the elk.  Then there will be much hunger all the time.”

Joe considered this for a minute and then said; “Sharp Tongue I know that the white man is destroying the Indian hunting grounds.  It is wrong.  My Pa says so, too.” 

“White man does not care what happens to Indians, Joseph Cartwright.”

“My Pa does too care, Sharp Tongue.  My Pa is a good man, why he…”  Joe’s speech was interrupted by Sharp Tongue saying, “ Your Pa is “great Ben Cartwright”.  I know our village knows of him and some call him friend.  But if he really cared, Joseph Cartwright, he would fight to stop the white men who break their own treaties, steal our land, and kill the buffalo for sport or for hides.” 

Both boys were becoming very intense with the conversation and it may have escalated but just then the bell rang and Little Joe saw that all the other children were already entering the building.  He thought it odd that none of his friends had come over to see him.  He muttered, “We better go, Sharp Tongue so we won’t be in trouble for being late.”  The two boys started back toward the schoolhouse.

When they were about halfway down the hill, Sharp Tongue looked at Joe and risked saying, “Still, why do you not take food home?  Save for later.”

“Sharp Tongue if I took home the food I didn’t eat, then Hop Tseng’s feelings would be hurt and my Pa would think I wasn’t eating enough---and anyway you look at it---I’d be in trouble.  It is for my own sake that I throw it out.  Besides, see right over there beside that big rock?  See there where that green bush is?  Well behind that bush is a cave---nobody at school knows about it but me.  My brother Hoss and I went in there one day---to get away from school. And in that cave lives a fox and that fox comes out after we leave and eats that food.  So it ain’t really wasted.” 

“Do you and your brother, Hoss go there now?” Sharp Tongue asked, thinking that he would like to see the cave himself.  One that was so well hidden that all these children did not find it.  He was especially interested in caves and even he hadn’t noticed it.

Joe laughed, “No, I don’t think Hoss could get into that cave anymore.  I can though.”

“Would you take me there one day?” Sharp Tongue asked.

“Sure.  We would have to do it when school was out though.  I don’t want no one else to know about it.  You never know when I may need a good hideout place.” Joe grinned.

“That is good, Joseph Cartwright.”

“You know, about the only time I hear that name is when I am in school, at church, or in trouble.  You are making me nervous calling me Joseph Cartwright all the time.  How about if you just call me Joe?” Joe asked him.

That is a bargain.  But I do not have this shortened name that white people have.  I do not know what you can call me, Jos---uh, Joe.” Sharp Tongue said.

Joe looked at him seriously, then grinned and said, “it is kinda hard to think up a nickname for Sharp Tongue” he agreed.  “Why do they call you Sharp Tongue anyway?”

“Because I speak the truth and sometimes people do not want to hear the truth.” He said simply.

“Hmm.  I guess that would never be used for me.” Joe grinned.

“Let me see.  I know.  How about if I call you ST, like the first letters in your name?”

Sharp Tongue looked at him and as they walked into the building, he nodded his head and said, “ST, it will be, Joe, but only to you.  To all others it will be Sharp Tongue.”  He held out his hand and Joe shook it, just as walked to their seats and sat down.   Many of the other students were watching the two with widened eyes, shocked at the sight of Little Joe Cartwright shaking hands with a heathen.

Chapter 7

The rest of the afternoon classes passed fairly quietly.  Miss Lambert had graded the history tests during lunch and she complimented Joe on his grade.  He accepted the compliment gracefully, without telling her how he had achieved such an outstanding score.  He had learned a long time ago that sometimes the truth was better left unsaid.  Not that he would outright lie, but he had learned that sometimes you could avoid telling some things just by strictly answering the question asked.  Finally when the agonizingly slow lessons were over, Miss Lambert dismissed the class. 

Joe immediately threw all his books in his desk and said “Come on S.T. I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

S.T. closed his desk and followed Joe out of the schoolhouse.   Joe was again surprised that none of his regular friends came over to him.  He turned and saw Rebecca watching him.  He pulled S.T. along and said, “Bec, this is Sharp Tongue.  Sharp Tongue this is Bec.  She is great---she can run almost as fast as me.” 

Bec smiled at Joe and Sharp Tongue and said, “It is nice to meet you Sharp Tongue.  I hope you will enjoy coming to school here.  And just for your information---I can beat Joe Cartwright running any day of the week and twice on Sunday!”  The three laughed at this.

“Hey, Bec’, do you want to go riding with us?” Joe asked.

Bec smiled sadly and said, “Oh, Joe I can’t.  My Pa said I had to come home and help my Ma today.” 

“Well maybe tomorrow then” Joe said.  “See ya, Bec.”  He and Sharp Tongue headed out the door.  Joe was confused when they came outside; none of his friends were there.  But Walter and his friends were there, waiting. 

“Uh oh” Joe said out loud.  “This may be the time for that fight that Walter’s got coming.”

However just at that time, Mr. Carter the county school superintendent rode up, along with Mr. Meadows. 

“Hello, Sharp Tongue.   We have to go near your village and thought you might ride with us to show us the way?”  Sharp Tongue was hesitant at first, he had been looking forward to riding with Joe Cartwright and racing his horse against the black and white pinto.  But his father trusted this man so he felt it would be dishonorable for him not to assist him.  He turned to Joe and said, “Tomorrow we race our pintos and you will see how fast a real Indian pony can run.” 

“Yeah, that pony of yours can run all right, if she doesn’t mind the dust from Cochise and me.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After Sharp Tongue and the two men had ridden off, Joe Cartwright turned to face Walter and his two sidekicks.  Walter was much older and bigger than Joe was.  Walter only attended from 2 to 3 months of school per year because he was needed to help out at home.  His father didn’t believe in education but his mother did, so she made him come when he wasn’t needed on the ranch.  Unfortunately Walter was not a particularly bright student and couldn’t make up the work he missed, so he invariably failed time after time.  He was now close to 17 years old but was technically only a third-grader.  His Ma had promised him that he didn’t have to come any more after this year, but she wanted him to finish this year so he would have at least finished the third grade work.   She had little understanding of the school system and did not realize just how embarrassing it was for Walter to be doing third grade work.

His two friends were in about the same situation, though they were not as far behind as Walter, nor were they as strong and big.  He used them for support and they hung out with him because it made them feel important.   They got their fun by harassing the other kids, stealing lunches, lunch money, stealing and breaking toys or other possessions, and teasing the other children.  Joe and Walter had been involved in several fights, but usually Joe’s friends were around to at least keep it from being so unfair.  The last fight they had gotten into had been because of some mean rumors that Walter was spreading about one of the older girls in the school.  Joe had walked up on Walter and his bunch when they were attempting to blackmail her, telling her that it didn’t matter what the truth was—by the time they finished telling everybody their story, no one would believe her.  Joe immediately challenged Walter and the two fought furiously, but Joe, despite being much smaller, was quicker and smarter.  Joe won that fight, but in that fight his friends had been there to prevent Walter’s pals from interfering. Joe had not gotten into too much hot water over that, because his friends were there to back him up and tell what Walter was doing.  Still his father had been angry that his temper got the best of him and that he didn’t try to resolve the issue peacefully.

Joe looked around and saw that Walter and his friends were waiting for him.  He considered his options; or rather he tried to, but quickly decided that he had no options.  With Sharp Tongue gone, Miss Lambert either gone home or busy in the school and none of his friends in sight—he didn’t see many options. 

He thought to himself, “Well Pa, the only peaceful solutions I can see is running and I ain’t about to run from Walter!” 

Thus, he started walking unhurriedly, but directly over to Walter and his friends, knowing he was in for a rough fight and then on top of that, probably a lecture or worse from his father for fighting.  “Oh well some things a man can’t control” he told himself.  When he reached Walter, he stopped just a couple of feet away and looked him directly in the eyes.

“You waiting for me, Wally?” he asked.

Before he got the words out of his mouth good, Walter ran at him.  Joe, anticipating this, dodged Walter’s punch and slammed into him with his full force, knocking Wally off balance and making him fall to the ground with a thud.  Before he could get up, Joe landed on top of him, punching and pounding him with his fists.  Joe had clearly surprised Walter and his size was serving as more of a disadvantage against Joe’s quickness and strength.  The two wrestled, exchanged punches, and struggled against each other for a few minutes, with no reaction from Walter’s buddies.  Finally when it looked like Little Joe was going to get the best of the bully, Walter caught the eyes of one of the other boys and gave motioned for some help.   Immediately both boys grabbed Joe’s arms and pulled him off Walter and despite his struggling, the two of them were stronger than he was.  And of course since they hadn’t been fighting they had plenty of breath left, Joe didn’t. 

They held the struggling Joe upright, his arms behind them while Walter slowly got up, brushed himself off and then walked up to Little Joe.  With no warning, Walter punched him as hard as he could in the midsection, taking Joe’s breath away.   Walter landed a few more strategic punches while Joe was unable to recover his breath.  When he was satisfied that Joe was unable to defend himself further, he signaled the others to release him.  As they turned Joe loose, he fell to the ground, lying on his side, looking up at Walter.  The three boys then circled around him and said “Cartwright this is just a warning.  We ain’t having no injuns or no injun-lovers in this school.   This is what your new best-friend is going to get tomorrow and every day until he gets outta here and goes back to that reservation he come from.  If you are smart you will stay away from ‘im.  If you ain’t smart yore beating is gonna get worse everyday.  This was nothin’.  You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

Walter kneeled down close to Joe’s head and grabbed hold of his hair and pulled it tightly to the back, so that Joe was looking him eye-to-eye.  “Do you understand what I am saying, rich kid?”  Joe at first said nothing, just glared at Walter.  Walter pulled his head tighter and said, “I said do you understand, boy?”  Joe looked at Walter and with every bit of strength he had in him he said, “Get outta my face, Wally.”  Walter, enraged, pulled his right arm as far back as he could and landed a blow directly on Joe’s face, causing his head to snap back.  He then released his hold on Joe’s hair and let him fall, unconscious to the dirt.  Summoning his pals, they ambled off toward the seedy part of Virginia City to see who else they could find to bully, laughing and talking like they had just come from the church social.

Chapter 8

Joe slowly regained consciousness and found himself lying in the same place, on the dusty schoolyard.  He sat up slowly, becoming dizzy and feeling nauseated as he sat up.  He sat there, leaning back against a rock that he apparently had hit his head on when he fell.  He sat for a few minutes, dazed trying to remember what had happened to him.  The last thing he remembered was talking to Sharp Tongue and seeing Mr. Carter and Mr. Meadows ride up and talk to Sharp Tongue.  He couldn’t remember exactly what had happened between then and the next thing he remembered was fighting with Walter.  He couldn’t remember what had precipitated the fight. Although he didn’t know this, the blow to the head had caused a temporary loss of memory of the events immediately prior to the blow.  As he contemplated what had happened, he remembered that he and Walter had proposed a fight a couple of days ago and he figured either he or Walter must have decided to do it today.  He was a little surprised because Walter and he were always talking about fighting.

As his head cleared and the dizziness decreased, he looked at the sun and realized he was late getting home.  Late already, with a long ride ahead of him.  He forced himself to stand up, though the motion caused his head to reel and he felt extremely dizzy.  He made it over to Cochise and checked her cinch and loosened her reins.  Before he mounted the horse he took down the canteen and took a small drink, then splashed the remainder over his head and face to try to clear his brain.   Feeling a little better he put his left foot in the stirrup and climbed aboard his horse.  Cochise turned her head to look at him out of the corner of her eye to make sure it was her boy on him because of the ordinary way in which he mounted up.  She had come to expect a fast, gentle, even plop into the saddle with no pull on the left stirrups, rather than a longer strained pull on the stirrups and reins, followed by a slower distribution of weight into the saddle.  (Ok this was just for fun!) 

Joe rode as fast as he dared to on the way home, but he was still feeling dizzy enough that he couldn’t run Cochise to make up any lost time.  He was more concerned about what his father was going to say than the way he felt.  He wished his father were away on a business trip or something.  But he knew that even if he were, Adam would just assume his place and he would still get the interrogation.  However, usually Adam could be counted on to not tell his father about things.  But all that was futile thought, because as he rode into the yard he saw his father’s horse being led into the barn by one of the hands.  Joe shrugged his shoulders and rode Cochise directly into the barn, hoping to at least have a few minutes to try to get his wits about him before facing his father.

When Joe walked into the barn he immediately got off Cochise, jumping off the way he normally did.  He wished he hadn’t as the movement sent new pains through his side and his head.  He moved as quickly as he could so that Cochise was between him and the other worker.  He began to unsaddle Cochise and carefully curried her, fed her, and got her fresh water and left her in her stall.  He then went to see if his evening chores had been done and found that they had.  That could be good or it could be bad, depending upon who had done the chores.  If Hoss had done them, it would be a good thing.  Hoss often did his chores for him and never got testy about it or tried to make him feel guilty.  Adam was unpredictable. He might do the chores and not tell Pa, he might do them but tell Pa Joe didn’t do them, or he might not do them and tell Pa that Joe didn’t do them. 

He wanted to get up to his room without being detected to get cleaned up before he had to see anyone. He was hoping he would be able to get to his room without being seen.  After finding that his chores had all been done, he decided to sneak up the outside stairway to go to his room rather than go through the main door.   When he decided what he was going to do, he started to move quickly to the barn door.  Unfortunately his attempts at rapid movement were too much for his head and the dizziness escalated.  Feeling woozy, he grabbed for Cochise’s stall to keep from falling.  He hadn’t seen his father coming toward the barn, with the intention of finding out the reason for his late arrival home.  Reaching the doorway at the same time Joe attempted to move and became dizzy, Ben immediately ran for Joe.  Ben took hold of him at the same time as Joe reached for the stall.  Had his father not been there, Joe would have collapsed on the barn floor; instead he collapsed into his father’s arms.  He saw the look of concern on his father’s face, even as he lost consciousness again and became limp.  His father easily grabbed hold of him and with one arm under the knees and one under the back, headed into the house, calling for Hop Tseng as he moved.

“Hop Tseng.  Hoss!  Adam!” he cried as he pushed open the huge oak and pine door to the massive family room of the Ponderosa.  As he did so he was met at the door by Hoss and Adam with Hop Tseng close behind. 

“Joe! what happened, Pa?”

“Here Pa, lay him on the couch” Adam said gently pushing Hoss aside.

Ben laid him carefully on the table and Hop Tseng immediately took off for hot water and clean bandages. 

“Hoss, get me a little brandy.  Let’s see if that will revive him some.”  The look of consternation on Ben’s face showed his deep concern for his youngest son. 

“Pa, do you want me to go get Paul?”  Adam asked, looking at his brother’s badly bruised face. 

“Yes, Adam, we probably better.  Paul always says if he—or anyone, loses consciousness that we should.”

“All right Pa, I will be right back.”  He hurried out the front door heading to the barn to ready his horse for the ride to Virginia City.  He saw Hank one of the hands leading a horse out of the barn.  “Hank, is that horse fresh?” 

“Yeah, Adam, he hadn’t been ridden in a few days and I was just gonna give ‘er a workout.”

“I’ll do it then. I need to go get the Doc from Virginia City.  Looks like Little Joe has been in another fight.” He said rolling his eyes.

Hank stood watching the oldest Cartwright ride out, thinking that he would make a point to ask his niece who attended school with Little Joe what had happened.   He knew that it was a bone of contention to Mr. Cartwright that the hands seemed to know a lot of details about their family business, but he had no idea where it came from.  Hank chuckled because the source was his niece who had had a crush on Little Joe Cartwright since the first day she laid eyes on him.  She made it a point to know everything about him and his family and when there was something going on with Joe----he could usually get an insight to the cause by talking with Sally.  Then he would make offhand comments to Mr. Cartwright to try to steer his thinking into the right direction to help him out.  But he would never want to face Mr. Cartwright if he found out the source of the rumors about his family.  “No sirree” he chuckled to himself.

Hoss came and offered his father a brandy glass half full of the amber-colored liquor.  Ben took the glass and raising Joe’s head slightly, forced a small amount in his mouth, which Joe swallowed reflexively.  He began to struggle back towards consciousness as Hop Tseng came into the room carrying a basin of hot water and a stack of clean white bandages and washcloths and towels, which he set down beside Ben on the large square table.   Ben took a washcloth and wet it in the basin and them squeezed the excess water out and then began gently cleaning Joe’s bruised and battered face.  Hoss, seeing that there was nothing else to be done for his baby brother then, but not wanting to leave, sat down in a chair and pretended to read, though he was taking an inordinate amount of time to read the first page.

As Ben worked he was both gentle and thorough, cleaning every scrape or cut and noting the extent of all bruising.  He could tell that Joe was coming to as he continued to clean and tend to his injuries.  Merely cleaning the facial injuries took a long time and the combination of the movement, time, and water on his face finally brought Joe out of the fog enough that he knew where he was.  His first words when seeing his Pa were, “Hi, Pa.”

Ben grunted when he heard those words, thinking of the many, many times he had heard those words in similar situations through the years.  His biggest fear where this son was concerned was that, one day, he would be too injured and wouldn’t be able to say that, and in fact wouldn’t recover from his injuries.  He forced himself to put those thoughts out of his mind to tend to the present situation. 

“Hi, yourself, young man.” He said mildly.

Joe tried to sit up, but his father placed his large hand on his chest and said, “You just lie still Joe.  You aren’t going anywhere right now.”  He noted the grimace when he pushed on his chest.

“Let’s see how bad the damage is.” He said and began to unbutton Joe’s shirt.  He was appalled and more frightened when he saw the bruises and abrasions on his chest.  He looked them over carefully, then began to feel along his ribcage. He stopped when he saw Joe gritting his teeth to keep from saying anything.  He shook his head.  Joe had a very high tolerance for pain and he guessed that was a good thing, because he refused to admit when something hurt and he seemed hell-bent on getting into dangerous situations.

He continued to gently clean and assess Joe’s injuries but he knew that until Paul Martin got there, he should keep Joe quiet and still.  He forced a little more brandy into him, hoping it would not only revive him, but might dull the pain that he must be feeling.  Joe seemed to be drifting in and out, and he decided that it was best to just let him doze until Paul got there, since if he were awake, he would be harder to keep still.

When he had finished doing all the cleaning and probing he felt comfortable doing, he sat back on the table and watched his son dozing.  His face was going to be very painful---it was bruised all over; there was an abrasion down the entire cheek on the right side, and his right eye was already swollen.  His lips were not swollen, but there was a split on the upper lip.  His chest and abdomen were also bruised and he had either a cracked or broken rib on the right side.  He hadn’t examined his head or back because he didn’t want to move him any more than necessary.  Hop Tseng came in and out of the family room, alternatively checking on dinner in the kitchen and on Little Joe in the family room. 

Ben’s thoughts turned to previous fights that his youngest son had gotten into and injuries that he had gotten over the years.  Paul Martin had told him once that Joseph had the biggest medical record of all his patients and that was over five years ago.  They had been through many anxious nights since that time.  He knew if things didn’t change there would be many more to come.  He was very frustrated with his son’s propensity for trouble.  Joe was stubborn and very determined to do what he felt was right.  He was not one to let something slide, to overlook injustices, or to compromise.  All of these were qualities that Ben admired, yet, Joe had not learned that sometimes things were beyond his control and that he would have to learn how to resolve the internal dilemmas and cope with situations that may not be the most ideal, but were realistically beyond his control.  Every serious fight that Joe had been involved in had been because of something that was in his opinion, unjust.

From the severity of the injuries, he knew that this fight was more than a school-yard disagreement.  But he would have to wait for Joe to tell him what happened.  As he watched his son and saw how young and vulnerable he looked and how much like his mother he looked, his frustration increased.  He asked the question he frequently asked, but never voiced out loud, “Why God was your plan to take Marie from us.  How could you have needed her more than us?”  Then he followed up with the same thing he always did, “Forgive me Father, I know that your plan is perfect; it is just that we are imperfect.” 

Slowly as Ben sat watching his son and questioning the Deity, Joe began to wake up. As he started coming to, he began to move around, opening and closing his eyes as if fighting to either stay asleep or wake up.  It was never easy to tell the difference with Joe.  Finally however the desire to wake was stronger than the desire to sleep so his eyes opened.  Ben watched him, without saying anything, not sure if he would again doze off.  As Joe slowly regained his senses, he saw his father sitting on the table watching him.  He didn’t quite feel up to speaking just then so he didn’t say anything, hoping his mind would clear a little more and stop pounding quite so loud before he had to answer any questions.  The silence did allow him to gather his thoughts and he went over in his mind what had happened.  He didn’t remember actually getting into the fight, but he did remember Walter’s warning about what would happen to Sharp Tongue tomorrow.  He knew he would have to think of something to help out, but he would think about it later, when his head wasn’t hurting and his father wasn’t sitting on the table staring at him.  Suddenly the fact that his father was sitting on the table registered with him and before he thought better of it, he said, “Pa YOU are sitting on the table.”

Ben was startled by his son’s statement, he hadn’t known if he was fully awake or not.  Then what he had said registered with him and he said, “Yes Son and YOU have your feet on the sofa.”  Ben laughed and Joe started to smile, then winced as his face hurt when he moved.  His father saw the grimace and reached over and put his hand on Joe’s face gently, tracing the outline of a bruise as he did so. 

Joe again started to get up, “I’m all right Pa.  I just want to go to bed.  I’ll be fine in the morning.” Ben again held his son down with one hand on his chest and one on his leg, preventing him from moving his leg toward the side of the sofa. 

“You just lie still, Joseph.  Doctor Martin will be here shortly and we will let him tell us if you are all right.  Joe frowned and grunted his displeasure, but his father ignored it.  Hoss, seeing that Little Joe had awakened, came over and said, “Hey Little Joe, what did you do?  Tangle with old Ned?”  Joe again tried to laugh, but again grimaced at the pain caused by the effort. 

“Yeah, Hoss you might say that, it was Ol’ Ned.” Joe replied.

“Well, imaginary grizzly bears aside, young man, just who did you tangle with?” Ben asked.  As Joe was trying to think of what to say, he was saved by the arrival of Doctor Martin and Adam.

Paul Martin was as comfortable in the Cartwright house as he was his own.  He had been the physician for this family since Ben Cartwright had first come to Nevada with Adam and Hoss as youngsters.  He had delivered Joseph Cartwright in this very house.  And he had been tending their medical and surgical ailments ever since.  He had spent more time patching the youngest Cartwright up from one thing or another than he had on all the others put together.  “And Joe was only 14” he always thought to himself.

He strode directly to the sofa, putting his medical bag down on the table and sitting in the spot that Ben had just vacated for him.  He looked at Joe and said, “Hello, Joseph.  Now what have you done to yourself, Son?”

Joe opened his mouth to answer and Dr. Martin promptly stuck a thermometer in his mouth instead.  Then he began a rapid assessment, looking for major injuries.  After several minutes of probing and palpating and inspecting, he removed the thermometer from Joe’s mouth and looked at it and nodded his head slightly.  Ben, Adam, and Hoss all wanted to ask if he had a fever, but they had learned not to ask too many questions during the examination.  Paul preferred to complete his examination and get all the data possible before answering any questions.

Paul looked up and the three and said, “I think it is safe to move him upstairs and I will examine him there.”  Joe mumbled, “What was that you just did?” but the four men all ignored his question---they were used to Joe being a difficult patient.  Hoss stepped forward and said, “I’ll carry him.” And moved forward to do so.  Joe said, irritably, “I can walk.  I told ya I’m all right.”

Paul caught Ben’s eyes and they both rolled their eyes and shook their heads, thinking the same thing: this was without a doubt the most independent youngster they had ever seen and worse, the older he got, the more stubborn he became. 

Ben said, “Hoss if you would please carry your brother upstairs.”  Joe started to say something and Ben looked at him and raised his hand and said, “Save your breath, Joseph.”  Joe attempted to let out a huge sigh to show just how unnecessary this was, but as he did so, he had a sharp pain in his chest and he gasped instead.  Paul said, “Careful Hoss and watch that right side, he has a broken rib.”  Hoss quickly but gently picked his brother up and headed toward the stairs, Adam going with them to open the door. 

Paul looked at Ben and asked, “Do you know how this happened or who did this?”

“Not yet, Paul, I didn’t want to upset him until you had checked him out.” Ben replied.

“All right, I am going to send Hoss and Adam back down here—I don’t want the three of you hovering over me. He is uncooperative enough as it is.  Send Hop Tseng up with some more hot water.”

“All right Paul if that is what you want.” Ben said, not at all happy to be excluded from the room, but knowing that Paul was the consummate professional and that Joseph probably was easier to manage without them there.  Shortly Adam and Hoss came downstairs, meeting Hop Tseng on the way upstairs with the hot water. Hoss volunteered to take the water for Hop Tseng, thinking that would be a way for him to get back in the room.  Hop Tseng, however had no intention of trading places with Hoss.  He knew that he could help Dr. Martin more than Hoss could.  He held firmly to the water basin and unleashed a tirade in Chinese to Hoss, including Adam and Ben in the conversation.  They of course had no idea what he had said, which was really just as well because truthfully all he had done was repeat the words to a song, but he did it with such passion and intensity---they didn’t want to rile him any further, so Hoss turned lose of the basin and Adam and Hoss retreated to wait with their father.  Hop Tseng continued his monologue until he reached Little Joe’s room, to make sure that they knew they had offended him in some major way.  If they could have seen his face they would have compared him to the cat that ate the canary.  He was quite proud of his acting abilities.

The three men waited for an hour and just when Ben had reached his endurance limits for waiting, Paul Martin came downstairs.  The three of them immediately arose to meet him at the stairs.  He looked at them and said, “Do you mind if I sit down before you bombard me with questions?  And how about a cup of coffee?  Hop Tseng told me he put on a fresh pot.”  Hoss immediately said “I’ll get it Pa” and headed toward the kitchen.

They waited for Hoss to return so that Paul wouldn’t have to repeat anything.  When he had returned and Paul had a coffee cup in his hand and had taken a couple of swallows, he said, “Well Joe has one broken rib, a pretty good lump on his head and I believe a concussion, severe bruising of the face, chest and arms, and some pretty nasty abrasions on his face and arms.” 

He paused and took a breath and just when Ben was fixing to ask a question, he added, “And there is more, Ben.  Some of the bruises tell quite a bit about how this happened, Ben.  It looks like two people held Joe’s arms behind his back and someone else did the beating.  I can tell that it was two people holding him because there are two hand prints on both arms and from the looks of the bruises, they were having to hold him pretty tight.  He must have been putting up a valiant effort.”

“Paul did he say anything to you about how this happened or who did this?” Adam asked.

Hoss spoke up, “I bet ya it was that Walter boy.  He ain't nothin’ but trouble; he was always pickin’ on Joe unless I was around and any body smaller than him.”

“Hoss Joe did say it was Walter, but he wouldn’t say what it was about.  Said he doesn’t remember how the fight started.”

“Doesn’t remember?  Do you mean he has amnesia?” Ben asked incredulously.

“No, Ben, not at all.  It isn’t uncommon for someone who has a concussion to be unable to remember the events immediately preceding the injury, so it is possible that he doesn’t remember.” Paul said.

“Or it could also mean that he doesn’t want to tell what started it so he is using that as a convenient excuse.” Adam said loudly.

Ben looked at Adam contemplatively but didn’t say anything. 

Hoss gave Adam a slight frown and said, “Now Adam there ain’t no call to call Joe a liar.  You know he doesn’t lie.”

“Yeah but he is not above not telling the whole truth either, Hoss” Adam responded.

“That is not getting us anywhere, Sons.  Paul what do you want us to do for him?” Ben asked, trying to redirect the conversation to the welfare of his youngest son.

“Well I taped up his ribs, he is gonna be sore for several days.  He needs to stay in bed for several days until the effects of the concussion have resolved and his rib has started healing.  The danger of the broken rib is if it were to be displaced and puncture a lung.  He needs to be still for several days to make sure that doesn’t happen.   His bruises should heal nicely, though he is gonna be black and blue for a while.”

“Can we see him now, Paul?” 

“Yes, Ben, but I gave him a sedative so he is going to sleep soon and should sleep through the night.  Hop Tseng is giving him some broth now.  Just let this be for now, Ben, don’t try to get out all the details now.  He is tired and he needs some rest.  As soon as he has healed a little bit I will help you get the details out of him myself.” Paul said with a smile.  He knew Ben Cartwright well enough to know that although he may be frustrated with Joe; he was incensed that someone had hurt his son and he wanted to get the details out so that he could see that the other parties were punished.  Ben’s philosophy was “if you gotta fight with one of my sons, you gotta fight with me.”

“All right Paul, thanks again for coming so quickly”.  “Oh don’t you worry, Ben, when you pay off your bill at the end of the month I am thinking of buying a new surrey.” He laughed.  He often kidded Ben about having the most medically expensive family that he had ever known.  He had told him that he needed to just pay him monthly a flat amount and he would just provide any and all care for the same amount.  Ben told him that was the most preposterous notion he had ever heard and that no one was gonna pay doctor’s bills before they were sick.   They both had a good laugh over that, but Paul still felt that it was not a bad idea to do this.

After Paul left, Ben, Adam, and Hoss went into Joe’s room.  Hop Tseng had just finished giving Joe some broth, despite his protests and was smoothing the bed linens.  Ben, Adam and Hoss went nearer the bed and said, “Joe how you feeling?” practically at the same time.

Joe looked up, somewhat groggy already from the medication and from the residual effects of the concussion and said, “Hi Pa.”  The three older Cartwrights nodded their heads and smiled at him, as he closed his eyes and faded off to sleep. 

Chapter 9

After having a late dinner, Ben, Hoss, and Adam sat in the great room, conjecturing what had started Joe’s latest fight and who else was involved.