Black Stallion

by Susan

The moonlight glistened off the black coat of the stallion as he circled the corral. The horse held himself with almost regal dignity as he trotted slowly around his small kingdom. He knew who was the master of the corral, as did the mares that stood patiently in the center of the pen. The mares watched the stallion with unconcerned eyes, deferring to the male but not afraid of him. The stallion ignored the mares as he once more circled the corral, a king guarding his small realm. If the horse had understood what price he was going to command at the auction tomorrow, he might have been proud. But then, maybe not. He might not have been proud of what it was going to cost several men in their quest to own him.

**********

“Eat up, boys; we’ve got a lot of work to do today,” declared Adam Cartwright as he began to cut up the pancakes on his breakfast plate.

Sighing, Joe Cartwright took a sip of coffee. He looked almost wistfully at the empty chair at the end of the table. It had only been three days since his father, Ben Cartwright, had left for Sacramento. To Joe, it felt like three weeks.  He didn’t understand how his brother Adam always seemed to find twice as much work that had to be done than their father.

“Come on, Joe, don’t dawdle,” Adam urged his brother. He glanced at his brother Hoss, sitting opposite Joe. “You need a hearty breakfast, like Hoss is having.”

“Adam, how come you always get to be in charge when Pa’s away,” asked Joe in an exasperated voice. “How come I never get to be in charge?”

“Because you’re 20, and I’m not,” answered Adam in an overly patient voice. He had heard this complaint many times. “Your signature on contracts isn’t even legal until next year.”

“Well, maybe that’s right,” conceded Joe grudgingly. “But how about Hoss? Why can’t he be in charge for a change?”

“Don’t want to be in charge,” said Hoss with a shrug as he chewed the large bits of pancake in his mouth.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” advised Adam in an automatic tone.

“If Hoss waited until he didn’t have any food in his mouth, he’d never say anything,” cackled Joe with a grin. “He’d be known at the silent Cartwright!”

“I’ve got a big frame,” Hoss said as he speared a sausage. “I need a lot to fill it up.”

“Yeah, your frame is about as big as the one around this house,” commented Joe laughingly.

“All right,” interrupted Adam. “That’s enough fooling around. Joe, I want you to check on the herd in the south pasture. See what the grazing is like and let me know if we should think about moving them. And check the water in the creek. I saw some beavers there last week, and they might decide to build a dam on that creek. On the way back, stop by the sawmill and make sure they’re on schedule. That broken blade they had a few days ago slowed things down. I’m meeting with Vern Higgins today about renewing the timber contract for his mine, and I want to be sure we don’t commit to anything we can’t deliver on.”

Sighing again, Joe nodded. “Anything else you’d like me to do?” he asked in a weary voice. “Maybe I could stop at the lake and drain a few feet from it.”

Ignoring Joe, Adam turned to Hoss. “You ready? We’ve got a lot to get done before that horse auction.”

Wiping his hands on a napkin, Hoss nodded. “Yeah, I just got to get that list of supplies from Hop Sing.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Where are you going, Hoss?” he asked in a dark tone.

“Getting supplies today, little brother,” answered Hoss nonchalantly.

“Now wait a minute,” said Joe. He looked back and forth at his brothers. “You’re going to meet with Vern Higgins, Adam, right?”

“Right,” agreed Adam with a confused look.

“And his office is in Virginia City, isn’t it?” continued Joe.

“Yes,” Adam acknowledged with a nod. He looked at Joe cautiously, beginning to understand what his brother was thinking.

Turning to Hoss, Joe said, “And you’re going to pick up supplies, right? I assume you’re going to do that in Virginia City.”

“Sure,” replied Hoss with a frown, not understanding the question. “That’s where the store is, little brother. Been there for years.”

“Now, let’s see if I’ve got this right,” declared Joe, glowering at Adam and Hoss. “I’m making the long ride to the south pasture, checking on a bunch of dumb steers and maybe undamming a creek. Then I’m making a ten mile detour to the sawmill on the way back. You two, on the other hand, are going into Virginia City.” Joe cocked his head and his eyes narrowed again. “Doesn’t that strike you as just a tad unfair?”

“Why?” asked Hoss, genuinely not understanding Joe’s complaint. “We’re going to be working, too.”

“Oh, yeah, you’ll be working all right,” agreed Joe with a tinge of disgust in his voice. “Adam will be sitting in a nice cool office, maybe drinking lemonade, while he works on that contract. And after Hoss loads those three or four sacks into the wagon, he’ll be so tuckered out that he’ll just have to go get himself a beer. Meanwhile, I’m stuck on a dusty trail, sucking warm water from a canteen. Something is just not right with this picture.”

“Look, Joe,” explained Adam in a patient voice. “We’ve all got work to do. It just happens that Hoss and I need to be in Virginia City today.”

“Why can’t you pick up the supplies after you meet with Harris?” asked Joe. “Then Hoss could check on the sawmill.”

“Because Sam Bennett is having a horse auction, and I won’t have time to pick up the supplies and make the auction,” Adam replied, his patience starting to wear thin. “This way, Hoss and I can both take care of our business and both go to the auction.”

“It doesn’t take two of you to look at some horses,” grumbled Joe.

“You know Sam Bennett,” said Hoss. “He mixes in some good horses with some pretty average stock. It’s always a good idea to have two of us looking at his animals.”

“I can tell a good horse from a bad one just as well as Adam can,” complained Joe. “Maybe even better. Why can’t I go to the auction?”

“Joe, I’m not going to argue with you,” said Adam in a heated voice. “Now I’ve told you what I need to you to do, and I expect you to do it.”

“And just who put you in charge?”  Joe asked angrily.

“Pa did!” replied Adam in a loud voice.

The mention of their father’s name brought the budding argument to a screeching halt. All three brothers glanced around the dining room with guilty looks, as if they expected Ben Cartwright to magically appear and chastise them.

“Look, Joe,” Adam continued in a reasonable voice. “I know you’re getting the rotten end of the stick today. I’m sorry, but there’s not much I can do about it. I promise we’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah, little brother,” added Hoss in a soothing voice. “We’ll give you a nice easy day tomorrow.”

“Well, I’ve got a better idea,” said Joe with a calculating look on his face.

Now it was Adam’s turn to look suspicious. “And just what is that?” he asked in a skeptical voice.

“Well, since you’re meeting with Higgins, I think it would be better if you went out to the sawmill and made sure they can meet his schedule,” Joe answered. “I’ll check on the herd, then meet Hoss in town for the auction.”

“Sounds reasonable to me,” agreed Hoss with a shrug.

“You keep out of this,” Adam said with a frown to Hoss. He turned back to Joe.
“Why are you so anxious to go to that auction?”

“No reason in particular,” admitted Joe. “I just think we should all concentrate on what we do best. You’re good at timber contracts, and you should keep your focus on that. I’m good at horses, so I should go to the auction. Besides, you’ll know better what to check on at the sawmill than I would, especially after you’ve talked with Higgins.”

A thoughtful look crossed Adam’s face as he tried to find a flaw in Joe’s argument. As Adam considered his idea, Joe looked down, trying to hide the smug expression on his face. But Joe couldn’t resist watching Adam out of the corner of his eye.

“All right,” sighed Adam. “I guess your idea makes sense, although for some reason, I get the feeling I shouldn’t agree to this.”

Smiling, Joe attacked his breakfast with gusto. “Relax, Adam,” he said as he forked a piece of pancake into his mouth. “It’s only a horse auction. What can happen?”

***********

Leaning against the fence of the corral, Joe studied the horses Sam Bennett was offering for auction. His face was impassive, showing virtually no interest in the animals he watched. Only a close inspection would have revealed the gleam in his eye as Joe observed the black stallion circling the pen.

“Hey, Joe, see anything of interest?”

Turning, Joe saw his brother, Hoss, nearing the corral. Joe shrugged with an exaggerated air of indifference. “There’s one or two in there that might be worth bidding on.”

Leaning against the fence, Hoss peered at the horses. His practiced eye immediately spotted the stallion prancing around the pen. “That black don’t look too bad,” he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Yeah,” agreed Joe. “He’s got a nice build. Might be some Tennessee Walker in him. Look at the way he lifts his feet.”

“Any idea how old he is?” asked Hoss.

“I took a close look at him awhile ago,” answered Joe. “I figure he’s about five or six years old.”

“You boys ain’t thinking of buying that black stallion, are you?” said a man standing to Joe’s right. His voice was tinged with alarm.

Turning a bit to his right, Joe recognized the speaker as Abe Stevens, a rancher who had a small spread west of the Ponderosa. Stevens was an older man, as evidenced by the white hair that was visible under his battered hat and the gray in his beard.

“We might be,” acknowledged Joe in a cautious voice. “Any reason we shouldn’t?”

“Ain’t you heard?” Stevens replied. “That horse is bad luck. I’d stay far away from that animal if I was you.”

“Bad luck?” said Hoss in a puzzled voice. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I hear tell that the night he was born, lightning struck the barn,” explained Stevens in a serious voice. “Burned about half the place down. Then Bennett’s top hand broke his leg trying to ride him. Sam sold him about three months ago to a fellow over near Dawson. Two days later, the fellow was killed in a stampede. His widow sold the horse back to Bennett because she needed the money. About a week after Sam got him back, the horse got loose. Bennett’s men finally found him up in Coldwater Canyon. Right after they roped him, there was a rock slide. Two of Sam’s men got hurt real bad, and a horse was killed.” Stevens shook his head. “That animal don’t bring nothing but bad luck.”

“I hardly think the horse caused the barn to burn or started a rock slide,” Joe observed in a dry voice.

“Some animals is just cursed,” insisted Stevens. “And anyone who hangs around them, well, they just get cursed too.”

“Aw, Abe,” said Hoss in a skeptical voice. “You don’t believe that, do you? That’s just superstition.”

“You boys suit yourself,” Stevens responded, shaking his head. “But I wouldn’t buy that stallion, if I were you.”

“Well, you’re not us,” Joe asserted. “If the price is right, we can use that stallion to improve our stock. We’re not going to be scared off by some wild tales of bad luck and cursed animals.”

Pulling his battered hat down over his eyes, Stevens turned away from the Cartwrights. “You’ll be sorry if you buy that horse,” he muttered as he walked away.

“Hey, Joe,” said Hoss, eyeing the stallion nervously. “You don’t think there’s anything to what Abe was saying, do you? You don’t think that buying that stallion is, well, a bad idea?”

“No, I don’t,” Joe declared firmly. “Abe’s just telling tales. Nothing bad is going to happen if we buy that horse.” He clapped Hoss on the shoulder with a reassuring gesture. “Come on; help me decide which of those mares are worth bidding on.”

Joe and Hoss were still studying the horses when the four men approached them. Joe saw them coming, and watched them out of the corner of his eye. The men were dressed in worn but clean clothes. They looked like miners, with their tall boots and woven pants held up by suspenders. Each man wore a holster, but the leather belts were wrapped high around their hips, as if the men weren’t used to having them on. The holsters and the pistols in them looked new, further evidence that these were not men who were comfortable with guns.

A heavy-set man with thick arms seemed to be the leader. He walked purposely toward the Cartwrights, while the other three followed on his heels. As they came closer, Joe wondered who they were and why they were at the auction. To Joe, they looked like men more comfortable holding a pick or shovel, than the reins of a horse.

“Old man over there says you are planning to bid on that black horse,” announced the leader as he stopped next to Joe.

Turning slowly, Joe faced the men. “I don’t see where that’s any business of yours, Mr.…” answered Joe in a voice than implied curiosity rather than offense.

“Townsend, Harry Townsend,” the leader supplied. “This here is my brother Jed.” Townsend cocked his head over his shoulder toward a younger man. “The other two are our partners, Ed Neeley and Jake Campbell.”

“Please to meet you,” Joe acknowledged the men with a nod. He looked at Townsend. “I don’t want to sound rude, but it’s really none of your business whether we bid on that stallion.”

“I’m just trying to save us both some money,” replied Townsend. “We want that horse, and we aim to have him.”

“Well, then I suggest you bid on him,” said Joe politely.

“We will and we’ll get him,” Townsend stated confidently. “You won’t be able to out-bid us and all your bidding will do will raise the price. I’ll pay whatever it takes to get that horse but I don’t want to have to shell out a lot of money just because you are upping the price.”

“And why should I be concerned about the price if you’re going to buy the horse?” asked Joe.

“That stallion is coming up last,” explained Townsend. “Now if you were to hold back on buying other horses ‘cause you’re saving your money for that stallion, you’d come up with nothing. I figure I’m doing you a favor by telling you up front you won’t get him.”

“Why is that horse so important to you fellas?” asked Hoss in puzzlement.

“Me and my brother and our partners, we just bought ourselves a piece of land with some money we made from a silver strike,” Jed answered. “We got ourselves some brood mares, but we need that stallion to get our horse ranch really running.”

“But there’s lot of places where you can buy a stallion,” commented Hoss, still puzzled.

“Yeah, but we don’t know much about horses,” replied Jed. “Even a fool can tell that stallion is a good one. My brother got taken before when he brought some broken down old nag. We don’t aim to let that happen again.”

“Shut up, Jed,” snarled Townsend. He turned and slapped his brother across the face. “You don’t need tell everyone our business.” The two men standing next to Jed seemed unconcerned by Townsend’s conduct toward his brother.

Rubbing his cheek, Jed looked down. “Sorry, Harry,” he mumbled apologetically.

Turning back to Joe, Townsend demanded, “What about it? You going to stay out of the bidding?”

Joe looked at Townsend with distaste. He disliked men who used their fists to make a point. He deliberately turned his back on the four men and looked into the corral. “I’ll think about it,” said Joe, his tone clearly implying that he was dismissing the men.

The narrowing of his eyes and the red flush that was creeping up his neck showed the anger growing in Townsend. “You be smart and don’t bid on that horse,” he shouted.

Ignoring the men, Joe continued to stare into the corral.

The anger continued to grow in Townsend as he saw that Joe wasn’t going to respond. Finally, he stamped his foot. “Come on, boys,” he snapped to his brother and partners, “let’s get out of here.” Townsend turned on his heel and stalked away, the other three men following in his wake.

Leaning against the corral next to Joe, Hoss didn’t say anything for a minute or two. Finally, he asked, “Are you going to bid on that stallion, Joe?”

“Yes,” replied Joe without looking at his brother. “Whatever it costs, we’re buying that horse.”

“Townsend’s not going to like that,” advised Hoss shaking his head.

“That’s too bad,” Joe said evenly. “But I’m not going to let him have that stallion.”

“Why not?” asked Hoss.

Turning, Joe rested his shoulder against the corral and looked at Hoss. “Men like Townsend expect to get their way, and if they don’t, they get mad,” explained Joe. “You heard his brother say they don’t know much about horses. And based on what Abe said, that stallion is a handful. If Townsend gets him, he won’t be able to handle the horse. When the horse doesn’t do what he wants, Townsend probably will get angry and abuse the animal. I would hate to see that happen to a fine young stallion.”

Looking away, Hoss thought about what Joe had said, and then he slowly nodded his head in agreement. “Let’s buy ourselves a stallion,” Hoss told his younger brother.

***************

Sam Bennett’s auctions always followed the same format. Bennett brought out the average horses first, which sold for average prices. Joe supposed that Bennett hoped that one day an unsuspecting buyer would pay a lot for one of those average horses, but so far, that hadn’t happened.

The auction was being held just outside of Virginia City, in a corral with a barn attached. The site was rented regularly for horse auctions, and Bennett was a frequent customer. The horse breeder acted as auctioneer, standing on a crate in the middle of the corral. The horses had been herded into the barn, and then brought out one at a time. Bennett extolled the virtue of each horse as one of his men led it around the corral. When the bidding was over, the horse was returned to the barn for collection by its new owner after the auction price had been paid.

The Cartwrights leaned against the fence surrounding the enclosure, looking as bored as they felt while the first few horses were sold. Bennett had looked expectantly in their direction as he opened the bidding on each animal, but he wasn’t surprised when Joe and Hoss made no move to buy any of them.

When horse number six, a bay mare, was trotted out, Joe’s attention was drawn to the animal, although the bored expression on his face hadn’t changed. “That one of them?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yep,” replied Hoss, his voice equally as low.

The bidding started slowly. Joe waited until the price had reached $35, then offered $40. His bid drew looks from a number of people around the corral. The Cartwrights were known to be pretty fair judges of horses. If Joe Cartwright was interested in a horse, then the animal must be pretty good. The bidding proceeded at a much brisker pace until Joe finally bought the mare for $70.

As Sam Bennett pounded his gavel and yelled “Sold for $70 to Joe Cartwright”, Joe looked toward Townsend who was leaning against the fence a few fee away. When Townsend stared back with a malevolent expression on his face, Joe shrugged and looked away. Evidently, the name Cartwright didn’t mean anything to the miner turned horseman. It wasn’t often that Joe wanted to use his family’s name to impress someone, but in this case, he had been hoping the name Cartwright, and the imposing amount of resources attached to it, might discourage Townsend from trying to out-bid him on the stallion.

Horse number seven was trotted out as Joe walked slowly to a table near the corral gate. He glanced at the horse to confirm that it wasn’t an animal on which he wanted to bid, then continued to the table. Sam Bennett’s foreman was sitting at the table, acting as cashier.

“You got yourself a good one,” the man at the table said with a smile as Joe counted out $70 and handed it to him.

“I know,” agreed Joe with a nod. He cocked his head and studied the man at the table. “That stallion is going to cost me a lot more than $70.”

“Yeah, he should go pretty high,” confirmed the foreman. “Unless the rumors about him being cursed scare people off.”

“You don’t believe he’s cursed!” exclaimed Joe a bit alarmed that Abe Steven’s story might actually be taken seriously.

“Well, he did break my leg,” the man at the table told Joe solemnly. “And he’s black as the devil himself.” The foreman shook his head, then broke into a grin. “Naw, I don’t believe that horse is bad luck. He’s frisky, that’s all. It’s my fault my leg got broke. I didn’t check the saddle cinch, and it came loose when he bucked. I got all tangled up in the stirrup. If I had done my job right, it never would have happened. Makes a good story, though.”

Grinning back at the man, Joe declared, “Well, it will either drive up the price or drive people away. I’m betting it will drive the price up.”

“I hope you’re right, for Sam’s sake,” remarked the foreman.

Glancing at the wallet from which he had taken the bills for the first horse, Joe said, “The price might be more than I brought with me. Think Sam would be willing to wait an hour or so for his money if I have to go to the bank to get it?”

“Sure, Joe,” answered the man at the table, nodding. “We know the Cartwrights are good for the money.” The man grinned again. “Besides, if the price goes as high as you think, Sam will be more than happy to wait a bit to get that much cash.”

Nodding his thanks, Joe took the bill of sale for the mare and walked back to the corral fence.

Waiting patiently, Joe and Hoss watched as horses number eight, nine, and ten were sold to other buyers. Several of the men around the corral glanced at the Cartwrights before bidding on the animals, looking for some sign that the two men might have an interest. The buyers had conflicted feelings about any sign of interest from the Cartwrights. A Cartwright bidding on a horse confirmed that it was a good one, but none of the buyers wanted to get into a bidding war with the men from the Ponderosa. They all knew they could never match the resources available to the Cartwrights.

Horse number eleven, a roan, brought a quick nod from Hoss. “That’s the other one,” he said in a low voice. Joe gave no sign that he had heard his brother, but when the bidding was done, he had bought the animal for $85 dollars.

Seeing that the stallion was the next – and last – horse to be brought to the center of the corral, Joe sent Hoss off the pay for the mare he had just purchased. He didn’t want to take a chance on missing the bidding for the black animal.

“Now, here’s a fine young stallion,” announced Bennett as the horse was trotted around the corral. “Four years old and sound as a dollar. You can use him as working stock, breeding stock or both. You can see what a fine chest and strong legs he has, and the animal has a lot of spirit.”

“Spirit or the devil in him?” shouted one of the men from the fence. A low murmur from the other buyers buzzed around the corral.

“The horse has a lot of spirit, that’s all,” repeated Bennett in a firm voice. He looked around at the men leaning against the corral. “What am I bid for this magnificent animal?”

“A hundred dollars,” yelled Townsend.

The bid caused another buzz of comment and even Joe’s eyes widened in surprise. An opening bid of a hundred dollars was way too high, in his mind. The stallion was a fine animal, even if Sam had cheated a bit on his age, but not worth an opening bid of a hundred. Joe could only guess that Townsend was trying to keep all the other buyers from bidding.

“A hundred and twenty,” called Joe. Once more, a hum seemed to speed around the fence.

“A hundred and fifty,” countered Townsend.

“Two hundred,” shouted Joe in a firm voice.

An almost eerie quiet descended on the corral. The other men watched silently as the bidding progressed. They knew a bidding war when they saw one, and no one wanted to miss the action.

“Two fifty,” yelled Townsend. He turned and glared at Joe.

“Three hundred,” replied Joe almost indifferently.

“Four hundred dollars,” said Townsend. He shrugged off the hand one of his partners had put on his shoulder as a warning.

“Four fifty,” offered Joe.

Swallowing hard, Townsend turned and talked with the three men behind him briefly. His brother stood impassively as the other two men shook their heads. Townsend made an angry comment which Joe couldn’t hear. Joe saw Townsend push the two men away with a violent shove, and again he vowed the young stallion would not fall into the hands of such a man.

“Five hundred dollars,” shouted Townsend. He gave Joe a nasty grin, confident that he had out-bid his opponent at last.

“Five fifty,” said Joe immediately.

“You can’t do that!” cried Townsend. “Five hundred dollars is all we have!”

“Then you should have brought more money,” replied Joe in a cold voice. He turned to the man standing on the crate in the middle of the corral. “What about it, Sam? Is the horse mine?”

Almost too astonished to speak, Bennett turned toward Townsend. Bennett had expected a good price for the stallion but never in his wildest dreams had he expected to the bidding to pass five hundred dollars. “Are…are you done, mister?” he asked Townsend in a shaky voice.

Reaching into his vest, Townsend pulled out a wad of bills. “This here is my five hundred dollars,” he declared. “I want to see the color of his money.”

“I don’t need to see Joe Cartwright’s money,” replied Bennett, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t know who you are, mister, but I do know the Cartwrights own the biggest ranch in Nevada. And they have never, ever failed to pay a debt. Now, unless you have more than five hundred and fifty dollars in that bankroll, you put it away and shut up!”

If looks could kill, both Bennett and Joe would have been dead men. Townsend’s eyes burned as he slowly put the money back in his pocket.

“Anyone want to go higher than five fifty?” asked Bennett in a hopeful voice as he surveyed the men around the fence. The breeder’s comment broke the tension and laughter greeted his question. Bennett grinned in return. He pointed to Joe. “Sold to Joe Cartwright of the Ponderosa for five hundred and fifty dollars!” said Bennett in a gleeful voice. “Joe, I do believe you’ve just sent my wife on a shopping spree!”

“Glad to do it, Sam,” responded Joe as the laughter reverberated around the corral once more. He turned his head and watched as Harry Townsend and the other three men walked away. Jed Townsend walked a few feet behind the others. The younger man stopped and stared into the corral for a minute, the disappointment clearly evidenced on his face. Jed watched carefully as the stallion was led back into the barn. Almost as if he felt Joe’s eyes on him, the younger Townsend turned and looked across the corral at the man who had out-bid his brother. The disappointment on Jed’s face turned into a look of determination. Then he spun around and rushed to catch up with his brother.

“Whoowhee! Five hundred and fifty dollars!” a voice exclaimed behind Joe. “That’s a lot of money.”

Turning, Joe looked into Hoss’ broad face. His brother’s big white hat was pushed back on his head and Hoss was shaking his head.

“We agreed we were going to buy that stallion no matter what it cost,” said Joe defensively.

“I know we did, Joe,” Hoss acknowledged. “I just didn’t think it would cost that much.”

“Would you rather have had that stallion go to Townsend?” demanded Joe.

“Nope,” Hoss answered in an agreeable voice. “You did the right thing. I’m just wondering what Pa is going to say when he hears about it. I got a feeling that he’s not going to be too happy with us.”

“Well, that depends,” replied Joe slowly.

“On what?” asked Hoss.

“On whether we can figure out a way to blame this on Adam somehow,” said Joe with a grin.

*********

Standing in the shadows at the side of the barn, Jed Townsend watched as one of the buyers led a horse away. Bennett’s foreman stood near the door, next to another hand. “That the last one?” asked the hand.

“All except the stallion,” confirmed Bennett’s foreman. “Joe Cartwright is going to come get him as soon as he settles up with the boss.”

“All right with you if I head for town?” asked the hand. “I could sure use a beer.”

“Sure,” agreed the foreman. “Cartwright should be along soon. I’ll meet you over at the Silver Dollar as soon as he collects his horse.”

Watching Bennett’s man walking toward town, Jed moved a bit deeper into the shadows. He wanted to wait until he knew Bennett’s foreman was settled on the bench by the barn door. As he waited, Jed thought again of the stallion. While his brother and their partners drowned their sorrows in beer at the saloon, Jed had sat outside the Silver Door, his thoughts consumed with the black horse and his desire to have it. He had seen the Cartwrights leading the two mares they had bought down the street, and watched as the animals were tied to the back of a buckboard near the general store. The mares had stood placidly behind the wagon.

When Jed had realized the stallion wasn’t being led into town, his hopes had soared. He began to think that something had gone wrong with the deal, and that he still had a chance to own the horse he coveted. But his hopes were dashed when he saw Joe Cartwright walking toward the bank. Jed saw Sam Bennett standing outside the door of the bank, waiting patiently. As the two men entered the bank, Jed knew the deal was done. The stallion belonged to the Cartwrights.

As Jed waited in the shadows, he thought again of the animal inside the barn. Jed was honest enough with himself to admit that he wanted it horse not only because it was a fine animal, but also to prove to his brother that he wasn’t as useless as Harry thought he was. All right, maybe he had messed up things more than once, Jed thought to himself. But this time, he was going to make things right. He was going to take that stallion and ride him up to their ranch in the hills. They would have to keep the horse hidden for a bit, but once the furor died down, they could breed the horse as they had planned. Jed was sure that his brother would be proud of him.

Bennett’s foreman had settled on the bench by the barn door. The man was leaning back, his hat pulled low over his eyes. Jed knew the time was right. Creeping around the side of the barn, he walked silently toward the foreman. Jed pulled the new pistol from his holster, the shiny gun that his brother had insisted Jed and their partners needed now that they were ranchers instead of miners.

As Jed raised the gun, the shadow of his arm crossed the foreman’s face. “Hey!” shouted the man, looking up into the face of his assailant. Jed brought the gun down swiftly, knocking the foreman to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Holstering his pistol, Jed hurried into the barn. He stopped inside the door, giving his eyes a minute to adjust to the dim light. All the stalls were empty, except the one in the middle on the right. There, in the middle stall, stood the black horse.

Hurrying forward, Jed rushed into the stall. He was as ignorant about horses as his brother, so he didn’t bother to stroke the horse to let the animal know he was approaching. Jed also didn’t realize he was sweating both with excitement and the fear of getting caught.

Startled by the sudden appearance of the man in the stall, the horse shied and whinnied. The stallion smelled the excitement and fear of his intruder, and that made the animal even more nervous. The horse began to prance in the stall, his whinnies growing louder.

“Shut up,” Jed hissed at the horse, as if the animal would understand him. He quickly untied the lead rope from the ring in the stall. The other end of the rope was attached to the halter around the stallion’s head. Jed snapped the rope, hoping that would make the horse back up.

Frightened, the stallion backed up quickly, yanking Jed from the stall. Jed fell to his knees, dropping the rope as he hit the straw-covered floor. The horse backed away even further from the intruder.

Scrambling to his feet, Jed grabbed the lead once more, and again he snapped the rope. “Settle down,” he ordered the animal in a loud voice.

The voice and the snapping rope scared the stallion even more. The horse began to scream and tried kick the man in front of him. Jed saw the hoof coming toward him, and jumped out of the way.

“Try to kick me, will you!” snarled Jed. He shortened his grip on the rope, and picked up the loose end with his right hand. Jed flicked the end of the rope into the stallion’s face, stinging the animal’s nose.

Thoroughly panicked, the stallion began to rear and scream. Jed held the rope even tighter, preventing the horse from raising its feet more than a few inches from the ground. Jed began to whip the rope across the horse’s face.

“What do you think you’re doing?” yelled a voice from the front of the barn.

Surprised, Jed dropped the rope and spun around. Standing in the doorway with their guns drawn were Joe and Hoss Cartwright.

Suddenly free, the stallion ran forward, brushing Jed and knocking him to the ground as the animal made a break for freedom through the open door. Joe and Hoss jumped aside, letting the horse go. Both were smart enough not to try to stop a horse running right at them. Distracted, they didn’t realize Jed had scrambled to his feet and pulled his gun until they heard the click of the hammer.

“Drop your guns,” Jed ordered.

Turning slowly, Joe and Hoss faced Jed, their guns both still in their hands.

“You ain’t dumb enough to think you can shoot both of us, are you?” asked Hoss in a menacing tone. “You hit one of us, and the other will kill you before you can cock that gun again.”

“Drop your guns,” Jed said again, but this time there was more than a trace of doubt in his voice.

“Put the gun down,” Joe advised in a cold voice. “Nobody’s gotten hurt yet. Let’s keep it that way.”

Staring at the Cartwrights, Jed saw the guns in their hands were steady. His own gun was wavering, and Jed could feel the sweat on his fingers and palm.

“Put the gun down,” Joe repeated. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

The two parts of Jed’s brain warred with each other. One part insisted he be reasonable and drop the gun. The other part insisted that he could get away if he pulled the trigger. For a moment, it looked as if the reasonable side of Jed’s brain would win. He lowered the gun. But then, for some inexplicable reason, the other half of Jed’s brain took over. He quickly raised the gun again and pulled the trigger.

The three shots rang out almost as one. Jed’s bullet went wild, digging into a post several feet away from the Cartwrights. But Hoss and Joe’s bullets were true. One burrowed into Jed’s shoulder while the other put a hole in Jed’s thigh.

As Jed fell to the floor screaming in pain, Joe and Hoss rushed forward. Hoss quickly kicked away the gun the younger Townsend had dropped. Joe bent over the form on the ground, then called over his shoulder. “Get the doctor, Hoss – and the sheriff.”

Looking up into Joe’s face, Jed had one last conscious thought. Boy, thought Jed as he drifted off into the pool of darkness, Harry is really going to be mad this time.

*************

By the time Harry Townsend reached the barn, the building was filled with people. Townsend shoved aside several curious on-lookers standing just inside the door and  pushed his way into the barn. “Where’s Jed?” he shouted to no one in particular. “Where’s my brother?”

Gesturing with his head, Sheriff Roy Coffee replied, “He’s over there. The doc is still working on him.”

Looking toward the middle of the barn, Townsend recognized the figure sprawled on the floor as his brother. Jed was partially concealed by an older man in shirt-sleeves who was kneeling next to him. A thick white bandage was wrapped around Jed’s thigh. Jed’s shirt was open, and the kneeling man was tying a bandage around Jed’s shoulder. Townsend took a few steps closer, his legs suddenly feeling shaky.

“How is he?” Townsend asked the man next to his brother. “Is he going to make it?”

Getting to his feet, Doctor Martin brushed the knees of his gray trousers before answering.  “He’s going to need a few weeks rest but he’ll be fine.”

“He’ll get plenty of rest in my jail,” declared Sheriff Coffee grimily.

“Your jail!” exclaimed Townsend with surprise. “What happened? All I know is some fella ran into the saloon and shouted my brother had been shot.”

“He was trying to steal that black stallion,” explained Coffee.

“You can thank the Cartwright boys that he’s still alive,” added the doctor. “They’re dead perfect shots. If they had wanted to, they could have put those bullets in your brother’s chest, and not just his shoulder and leg.”

“Cartwright!” Townsend spat out the name. “They the ones that did this? Where are they?”

“We’re right here,” said Joe in a quiet voice. He was standing a few feet to Townsend’s right.

Spinning toward the voice, Townsend shouted, “Cartwright! You the one who tried to kill my brother? I’ll get you for this!”

“We didn’t try to kill him,” replied Joe in an even voice. “Your brother was trying to steal the stallion. When we stopped him, he pulled a gun on us. We told him to put it down, but he fired instead. We shot him in self-defense.”

“That’s a lie!” cried Townsend.

“It’s true,” said Bennett’s foreman, who was standing next to Joe. He rubbed the side of his head. “Your brother clubbed me. I got a good look at him before he hit me.”

“No!” shouted Townsend. He looked around wildly as if he were trying to find someone who would confirm the men were lying to him.

“I’ve got some men coming with a stretcher,” interjected Doctor Martin in a soothing voice, trying to distract Townsend. “We’ll take your brother to my office. The bullet went through his shoulder, but there’s another one in his thigh I need to take out. He can rest there for a day or so before…”

“Before we move him over to my jail,” Coffee finished for the doctor.

“No!” This time the word escaped from Townsend as almost a whisper. He swallowed hard.  For a moment, Townsend stood still, his eyes wide with fright. Then he spun around. Townsend grabbed the front of Joe’s shirt.

“This is all your fault, Cartwright!” Townsend shouted to a startled Joe. “If you had let us buy that horse like we wanted, my brother wouldn’t be in this mess. Now they’re going to hang my brother as a horse thief!”

Raising his fist, Townsend appeared to be ready to punch Joe.  Although the two men were about the same height, Townsend outweighed Joe by almost a hundred pounds and years of mining had turned his arm and fist into a powerful weapon. Joe put his hand up in an ineffectual effort to ward off the blow.

Taking a step forward, Hoss quickly grabbed Townsend’s wrist with an iron grip. Townsend looked up, surprised that he couldn’t move his arm. “Mister, you hit my brother and you’ll regret it,” declared Hoss in a threatening voice. He shoved Townsend a bit.  The startled man released Joe’s shirt and took several steps backward. Hoss took another step forward, putting himself between Townsend and Joe.

“That’s enough, mister,” said Roy Coffee, moving quickly to grab Townsend’s arm. “You’re brother isn’t going to hang. We gave up hanging horses thieves in this county years ago. But I expect that your brother is going to prison for a stretch.”

Looking at the sheriff, Townsend’s face showed both relief and worry. “To prison? For how long?” he asked.

“That’ll be up to the judge,” replied Coffee. “But I’m charging him with three cases of assault in addition to trying to steal that horse. My guess the judge will give him a couple of years, at the very least.”

Townsend’s eyes drifted from Coffee to the figure lying on the floor. “Jed,” he said softly. “What have you done?”

Turning his head a bit, Jed looked up at his brother. His eyes were filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Harry,” he answered in a choked voice. “I just…just wanted to get you that horse.”

Two men pushed through the crowd, one of them carrying a stretcher. They laid the canvass carrier on the ground next to Jed, and, with Doctor Martin’s help, moved the young man onto the litter. Townsend watched, his face reflecting his brother’s pain as he was moved.

“Take him over to my office,” the doctor directed the two men. As they lifted the stretcher and started toward the barn door, Martin turned to Townsend. “My office is in the middle of town, near the hotel,” he said in a sympathetic voice. “You can wait there until your brother is ready to see you.” The doctor followed the two men toward the door.

With a grim look on his face, Townsend’s eyes followed the men out the door.

“Mister, this is over,” stated Sheriff Coffee in a firm voice. “Your brother got caught and now he’s going to have to pay for what he did. I don’t want any more trouble out of you, you understand? You cause any grief to the Cartwrights, and you’re going to end up in a jail cell next to your brother.”

Townsend looked at Coffee, and then turned to glare at Joe. “Cartwright, this is all your fault,” he snarled. Then he brushed past the Sheriff and headed for the barn door.

“Joe, I’d watch my back for a while,” advised Coffee as he watched Townsend leave. “That fellow looks like he could be trouble.”

Giving the sheriff a small smile, Joe said, “I can handle a man like Townsend. He’s more talk than anything.”

“I don’t know, Joe,” remarked Roy Coffee, shaking his head. “He seemed pretty upset.  With you outbidding him for the horse and then shooting his brother, well, he’s liable to want to even things up.”

“Don’t worry, Roy,” Hoss advised in a confident voice. “Townsend won’t bother Joe.”

“And why are you so sure of that, big brother?” Joe asked curiously.

“Well, little brother, I figure when Pa finds out you spent $550 on that stallion, he ain’t gonna let you off the Ponderosa for at least a month,” explained Hoss with a grin. “By that time, that fellow Townsend will have forgotten about you.”

“Oh,” said Joe biting his lip, “yeah.” He pulled nervously at the black gloves which covered his hands. “We’d better go find that horse. If I’m going to have to tell Pa I spent over five hundred dollars of his money, I’d at least better have the horse to show him for it.”

“The horse is outside in the corral, Joe,” Sam Bennett announced as he walked into the barn.

“Where’d you find him?” asked Joe in a surprised voice.

“Darn fool animal ran right into the middle of town,” answered Bennett, shaking his head. “I saw him and grabbed him. Figured something must be wrong if he got loose like that, so I brought him back here. Couple of fellows outside told me what happened.” Bennett looked at his foreman. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” replied the foreman, rubbing his head. “I’ve just a got a bit of a headache.” He grinned at his boss. “Ain’t nothing that a few beers couldn’t fix.”

“Thanks for bringing the horse back,” said Joe. He gave Bennett a speculative look. “You, uh, wouldn’t be interested in buying him back, would you?”

“No thanks,” Bennett responded, shaking his head. “I thought that story going around about that horse being bad luck was just that – a story….something that might get people interested in him. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe that horse is cursed.”

“Ah, Sam,” scoffed Hoss. “That’s just a bunch of baloney. Ain’t no such thing as a cursed animal.”

“Maybe,” agreed Sam. “But seems like nothing good ever happens when that horse is around. I’m glad to be rid of him.” He looked at the Cartwrights. “I hope he don’t cause you fellows any grief.”

“He just a horse, Sam,” Joe observed. He grinned at Bennett. “And an expensive one at that.”

“I don’t know, Joe,” said Sam, shaking his head. “That horse seems to cost people a lot more than just money. “

************

Driving slowly, Hoss guided the buckboard into the yard in front of the Ponderosa ranch house. The two mares tied to the back of the wagon trotted along willingly, content to be led to their new home. Joe rode his pinto into the yard, also, keeping his distance behind the mares and the buckboard. He was leading the stallion, who was prancing nervously. The black horse hadn’t quite recovered from his fright, and being brought to a new place wasn’t calming him down any.

“I’m going to put him right in the corral,” Joe called to Hoss as he led the stallion to a small pen next to the barn. Joe was so busy getting the stallion into the corral, and then tying his own horse up to the fence that he didn’t notice Adam walking toward him.

“Well, you two are finally home,” Adam commented wryly. “I was just about to send out a search party.”

Nervously, Joe finished tying the reins of his pinto to the fence rail. “How did things go at the sawmill?” Joe asked quickly.

“Just fine,” replied Adam as he leaned against the fence and looked in at the stallion.  “That’s a good looking horse,” he noted

“Yeah, the best of the bunch,” Joe proclaimed. He glanced over his shoulder at Hoss who had walked up behind Joe. “Um, we going to have any problems filling that contract?”

“No,” said Adam still looking into the corral. “We’re right on schedule. “ He shook his head a bit. “I would have never guessed Bennett would have a horse that good. How much did you pay for him?”

“He’s a real fine horse, Adam,” answered Joe nervously.

“Yes, he is,” agreed Adam. He turned to look at Joe. “How much did he cost?”

“Did you see the two mares we bought?” said Joe quickly. “They’re real good animals and I got them each for under a hundred dollars.”

Crossing his arms, Adam gave Joe a stern look. “How much did he cost?”

“I figure we can always use good stock,” continued Joe nervously. “A horse like that, well, he don’t come up for sale every day.”

“How much did he cost?” asked Adam again, his voice growing more insistent.

Joe looked toward Hoss, but found no help. His big brother was looking away, suddenly finding the barn an interesting structure. Joe swallowed hard and nervously ran his finger around the collar of his shirt. “F-F-Five…hundred and fifty,” answered Joe in a tentative voice.

“Five hundred and fifty dollars!” exclaimed Adam incredulously. “Have you lost your mind?”

Wincing at Adam’s tone, Joe added quickly, "He’s a real fine horse. You said so yourself, Adam.”

“I don’t care if he’s Pegasus,” said Adam with disbelief. “He’s not worth five hundred and fifty dollars!

“Adam, let me explain,” pleaded Joe. “See there was this fellow Townsend. He was a real mean guy.”

“Yeah, real mean,” Hoss chimed in helpfully.

“And see, he wanted to buy the horse,” Joe continued rapidly. “Well, Hoss and I knew that he’d probably mistreat him, and we decided to buy him. It just cost a little more than we thought it would….” Joe’s voice trailed off as he finished.

Frowning, Adam looked at his brothers. “Let me get this straight. You bought a horse for over five hundred dollars because you thought someone else might buy the stallion and possibly mistreat him?”

“Well, not just for that,” explained Joe. “I mean, you can see he’s a good horse, Adam. He’s young and strong and he’ll really add to our stock.”

“So you plan to breed this horse,” Adam stated.

“Sure,” replied Joe. “But he’s good riding stock, too. I mean, we can use him as a remount.”

“Have you actually ridden this horse?” asked Adam, arching his eyebrows.

“Well, no,” admitted Joe. “But Bennett’s foreman has.”

“This wouldn’t happen to be the horse that broke his leg, would it?” asked Adam, his face darkening.

“That was just an accident,” Joe insisted. “His foreman told me so.” Joe glanced over his shoulder once more toward Hoss, then turned back to his oldest brother. “Adam, he’s a real fine horse. Maybe he cost a bit more than we had thought but…”

“A bit more?” interjected Adam, cocking his head to look at Joe.

“All right, a lot more,” admitted Joe. “But he’s worth it, Adam. He really is. Besides, I just couldn’t stand by and let a bully like Townsend buy him. I just couldn’t do it, Adam.”

“Well, I suppose since you’ve already bought him, we’re stuck with him,” agreed Adam in a tone that indicated he was somewhat mollified. “But you’re the one who is going to have to tell Pa what you paid for him.”

Blowing out a breath of air, Joe scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I know,” he acknowledged. “But Pa will understand.” Joe looked at his brothers for confirmation, but found none on their faces. “He’ll understand, won’t he?” Joe repeated, this time his voice more tentative. “Don’t you think he’ll understand?”

Clapping Joe lightly on the shoulder, Hoss nodded. “Sure, he will, little brother. You just explain it to him.” Hoss looked at Adam. “How far away do you think we should be when Joe tells him?”

“Oh, I think California sounds about right,” Adam noted dryly.

Joe looked at his brothers, his face reflecting the misery he was suddenly feeling.

*************

For the next three days, Joe’s new stallion was the center of attention on the Ponderosa.  Unfortunately, the attention the horse gathered wasn’t the kind that Joe had in mind.

Someone in the bunkhouse had heard the rumor about the stallion being bad luck, and spread the story. The men repeated the rumor to each other, and with each telling, the tale became slightly more exaggerated. By the end of the first day, the men were convinced the animal would cause harm to anyone who came near him. The fact that the first time he had taken the horse out for a ride, Joe had ended up walking almost a mile back to the barn because the stallion threw a shoe only added to the rumors of ill fortune.

For the next few days, every time the Cartwrights looked around, there seemed to be several men leaning over the corral fence, watching the stallion. The hands seemed drawn to the animal, fascinated with the reported omen of doom in their midst. But Joe and Hoss had no luck in convincing any of the men to even get near the horse, much less ride him. Joe found himself putting the horse in the barn each evening, as well as cleaning and feeding the stallion. He was beginning to regret he had bought the horse, but for reasons different from the men in the bunkhouse. Never one to volunteer for extra work, Joe wasn’t pleased that the animal added to his chores.

Coming out of the house after lunch on the fourth day after the stallion’s arrival, Joe was surprised to see one of the hands leaning against the fence of the corral next to the barn. Seeing a look of interest on the man’s face, Joe hurried up to the corral.

“Hi, Pete!” Joe called in a voice that was a bit too exuberant. “What are you doing here? I thought you were out chasing strays.”

At first, Pete didn’t answer. In his early 40’s, Pete had worked for the Cartwright for a long time. He was confident enough of his place on the ranch that he wasn’t worried about being reprimanded for returning to the barn in the middle of the day. Pete watched the stallion circling the pen, seeming to the study the horse. Then, he sighed and shook his head. Turning to Joe, Pete finally answered. “My horse came up lame,” he explained. “I came back to get me another mount.

Joe’s face brightened, and his mouth broke into a smile.  “That’s too bad about your horse,” sympathized Joe, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. “Why don’t you take this one? He’s a good animal.”

Looking over his shoulder into the corral, Pete watched the stallion for a minute before replying. “No,” he said as turned back to Joe. “I ain’t getting near that animal. I heard he’s cursed.”

“Aw, Pete, you don’t believe that,” countered Joe, his voice filled with disgust. “That’s just a story.”

“Maybe,” answered Pete doubtfully. “But I heard he tried to kick Charlie to death in the barn the other night.”

“The horse was standing in his stall when Charlie dropped a bucket right behind him,” explained Joe in an overly patient voice. “It scared him and he kicked out, just like any horse would. It was only one kick and it didn’t even come anywhere near Charlie.”

“What about yesterday in the breeding pen?” asked Pete insistently. “I heard none of those mares would even come near him. Animals, they can sense things. Those mares knew they should stay away from him.”

“He a young stallion, Pete,” Joe replied, with a wry smile. “He just got a little, um, enthusiastic about his work. He scared those mares, that’s all. They’ll be fine around him once they get used to him.”

“I don’t know, Joe,” said Pete, shaking his head. “Some animals, you just don’t want to be around them.”

“Why don’t you try him?” urged Joe. “I’ll bet you’ll find he’s the best horse you’ve ever ridden.”

Looking back into the corral, Pete considered Joe’s suggestion for a minute, then shook his head again. “No, I ain’t going to take the chance,” Pete stated. “I’ll just go get me one of the horses out of the barn.” Pete started walking toward the structure next to the corral, then stopped. He turned back to Joe. “Sorry,” he said almost regretfully. Then Pete walked into the barn.

Sighing, Joe leaned on the fence of the corral and pushed back his hat a bit as he watched the stallion trotting around the pen. The sound of footsteps behind him made Joe turn, a smile ready to lighten his face. He was hoping that Pete had changed his mind. When Joe saw the big figure of his brother, Hoss, he sighed once more, and turned back to the fence.

“No luck getting Pete to ride him, uh?” said Hoss as he leaned against the fence next to his brother.

“No,” Joe conceded morosely. “He said he didn’t want to take the chance of riding a ‘cursed’ horse.” Joe shook his head. “I don’t get it, Hoss. This horse hasn’t done a single thing, and everyone is afraid of him.”

“Aw, you know how people get,” replied Hoss. “They hear a story, and they start believing it, even if there’s nothing to it.”

“I suppose,” agreed Joe with resignation. He put his arms on the top of the fence and rested his chin on his crossed hands. He watched the stallion as the horse continued to trot around the corral with nervous energy. “We’re going to have to do something with him. When Pa gets home tomorrow, I’m going to have to tell him what I paid for the horse. He’s going to be even more unhappy if he finds out that all this stallion has done for the past few days is eat and pace around the corral.”

“Why don’t you put him out in the pasture?” suggested Hoss. “Being all penned up like this ain’t helping the horse calm down any.”

“Yeah, I know,” Joe said. “I’m just afraid that if I let him out in the pasture, he’s going to run off or something. When I tell Pa about what I spent, I want to at least be able to show him the horse.”

Leaning against the fence, Hoss watched the stallion continuing to circle the corral. “Joe, that horse has got to get some exercise,” insisted Hoss. “You keep him penned up like this and he’s going to go crazy.”

“You’re right,” Joe admitted sadly. He stared into the corral, then suddenly his eyes widened. Joe glanced sideways at his brother, and a smile crossed his face. Straightening, Joe said, “Hey, Hoss, why don’t you take him out for awhile?”

“Me?” answered Hoss in a surprised voice.

“Sure, why not?” Joe urged his brother. “You’ve got to go down and check the herd this afternoon. Why don’t you ride him?”

“Well, um, I would, little brother,” said Hoss, looking around nervously. “But, um, I, er, I’ve got to give Chub some exercise. He’s just not getting worked like he should.”

“You can ride Chub tomorrow,” Joe persisted.

“I want to ride him today,” Hoss stated firmly.

Frowning, Joe looked at Hoss. “You’re not afraid of that horse, too, are you?” he asked.

“Me? No, no, I ain’t afraid,” replied Hoss quickly. “I just got to give Chub some work, that’s all.”

Joe stared at Hoss and said in amazement, “You are, aren’t you! You’re scared of that stallion.”

“I am not,” insisted Hoss. “I just want to ride Chub, that’s all.”

“You’re scared,” repeated Joe, beginning to laugh. “All this talk about bad luck and curses has you spooked.”

“Joe, I ain’t scared,” Hoss declared as his nose wrinkled into a frown and his chin jutted out defiantly.

“If you’re not scared, why won’t you ride the stallion?” asked Joe, his grin widening.

“I just…well, I just fit better on Chub,” answered Hoss lamely.

“You fit better on Chub!” howled Joe. He couldn’t contain his laughter any longer. Joe began to shake as his high-pitched giggle filled the air. “You’re… chicken,” gasped Joe as he began to laugh even harder.

“Now cut that out!” shouted Hoss angrily as he grabbed Joe by the arm.

“Chicken!” Joe repeated with glee.

“Dadburn it, I ain’t chicken!” insisted Hoss.

“Puck-puck-puck,” clucked Joe, sounding like a hen in a barnyard.

“Joseph, if you don’t stop right now, I swear I’m going to bash you,” threatened Hoss angrily, tightening his grip on his younger brother’s arm a bit.

“All right, all right,” said Joe with a grin. He pulled his arm away, and wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes. “It’s all right, big brother. I won’t let that mean ol’ horsy hurt you.” Joe patted Hoss lightly on the arm.

Hoss’ eyes narrowed. “Little brother, you are getting on my nerves,” complained Hoss, his voice reflecting his anger.  “I got a good mind to teach you some manners.”

“Don’t come to close, Hoss,” Joe advised, unfazed by his brother’s threat. He put up his hands in mock alarm. “You might get too near that stallion and then who knows what might happen?”

Startled, Hoss looked up to see where the horse was. He gave a sigh of relief when he saw the animal was on the other side of the corral, then reddened a bit with embarrassment when he realized what he had done. As he heard Joe’s laugh, Hoss turned back to his brother, caught between feeling angry and ashamed.

“If you’re so sure that horse ain’t bad luck, why don’t you ride him?” Hoss dared his brother. “You keep telling us what a hot-shot horseman you are. Why ain’t you taking that stallion out?”

“I already rode him once,” protested Joe.

“Yeah, for about a mile and ended up walking home, as I recall,” said Hoss, a bit smugly. “You ain’t been on him since them.”

“The only reason I haven’t ridden him is because Adam has been keeping me so dog-gone busy with that branding schedule,” insisted Joe. “I haven’t been more than twenty feet from the house in the last two days. Adam has me practically chained to that desk in Pa’s study.”

“Yeah, that’s your story,” Hoss noted skeptically. “I don’t see you working on branding schedules right now.”

“I came out to check on the horse,” Joe explained. “Since no one will go near him, I wanted to make sure he was all right. Adam is inside waiting for me, probably tapping that pencil of his against the desk, counting the minutes till I get back.”

“Sure he is,” said Hoss, his voice showing he didn’t believe Joe.

“Go see for yourself if you don’t believe me,” Joe told his brother earnestly.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, little brother,” Hoss told Joe with an exaggerated tone of understanding. “If you don’t want to ride the horse, you don’t have to.”

“I do want to ride him,” said Joe, becoming exasperated. “And I’ll prove it to you. I’m going to take him out tomorrow and ride him all day.”

“Yeah? Doing what?” asked Hoss.

“Doing…whatever,” replied Joe vaguely. He blew out a breath of air. “Adam hasn’t decided what little chore he is going to give me for tomorrow yet,” added Joe in an unhappy voice. He shook his head. “I’ll sure be glad when Pa gets home.”

“If I were you, little brother, I wouldn’t be so anxious for Pa to get back,” suggested Hoss.

“Why?” asked Joe. Then he remembered he still had to tell his Pa about the horse and the money he had spent on him. “Oh, yeah,” said Joe, wincing a bit. Then his face took on a determined look. “But I am going to ride that stallion tomorrow,” he asserted.

“Sure you will,” said Hoss in a voice full of skepticism.

“Watch me,” declared Joe with a grin.

“Seeing is believing,” replied Hoss.

Glancing over his shoulder toward the house, Joe took a deep breath. The look of unhappiness returned to his face. “I’d guess I’d better get back inside,” he conceded reluctantly. “Otherwise, Adam will be coming out here looking for me.”  Joe turned and started walking slowly toward the house, his pace showing how little he wanted to return to the wooden building. Suddenly, Joe stopped and looked down, as if a thought had just struck him. A grin slowly spread across his face. He looked back toward Hoss, who was still leaning against the corral fence, watching the stallion.

With a twinkle in his eye, Joe gave out with a loud, “Puck-puck-puck!”

Hoss spun around, his face showing his fury. But Joe was already running toward the house, laughing as he rushed away.

**********

“Now that we’ve got the branding schedule done, we can start rounding up the herds,” announced Adam over dinner that evening. “We’ll start with the cattle in the north and work our way south.”

“Do you think those spring storms scattered them much?” asked Hoss.

Distracted by other thoughts, Joe was only half-listening to his brothers discussing the work that needed to be done over the next few weeks. His attention kept straying to the empty chair at the head of the table. He was keenly aware that his father would return tomorrow, and that he would have to explain about buying the stallion. Joe’s mind was working hard on how to deflect his father’s unhappiness with the price of his purchase. He didn’t even realize Adam was talking to him until his brother said his name several times.

“Huh?” said Joe as he looked up. “Did you say something, Adam?”

“I said you did a good job on those branding schedules,” answered Adam with almost exaggerated patience.

“Oh, thanks,” acknowledged Joe with a shrug. He glanced toward the empty chair again. “What time does Pa get back tomorrow?”

“Late afternoon,” Adam replied. “His telegram said he’d be on the two o’clock stage.” He looked at Hoss and winked. “You, um, want to go into town and meet him tomorrow, Joe?”

“No, that’s all right,” said Joe quickly. “We’ve got lots of work to do, Adam. I’d better take care of things here.”

“You ain’t reluctant to see Pa, are you, little brother?” inquired Hoss innocently.

“No, no,” Joe answered. “Just that, you know, the ranch has got to come first. That’s what Pa always says. Got to make sure we take care of things here.”

“I’m glad that you’re so anxious to work,” declared Adam in an amused voice. “I’ve got a whole list of things that still need to be done.”

Sighing, Joe looked down at his plate. He knew when he was caught. In his attempt to delay facing his father, Joe had managed to put himself directly into Adam’s hands. “All right,” said Joe in a voice that showed he was resigned to his fate. “Let me have it, Adam. Give me a list of chores for tomorrow.”

For a minute, Adam was tempted to give Joe an impossible list of things to accomplish. It wasn’t often that his brother asked for work. But, seeing the mixture of resignation and misery on Joe’s face, Adam decided to take it easy on him. Joe had worked hard for him while their father was gone and deserved to be rewarded for it. Besides, Adam had a feeling that Pa was going to make Joe’s life miserable enough when he heard what the stallion had cost.

“I want you to ride up to Willow Ridge tomorrow,” Adam told his youngest brother. “Check to make sure we can move part of the herd to the pasture there. I want you to make sure that there’s enough grass and water, and that the ground is solid. It rained pretty hard up there this spring, and I don’t want to move the cattle there unless I’m sure it’s not a sea of mud.”

“Check the pasture. Got it,” confirmed Joe with a nod. “What else?”

“Check the two line shacks up that way, too,” continued Adam. “Make sure the storms didn’t damage them and make a list of anything we need to do to get them in shape and fully supplied. Once we move the cows up there, I want some men to stay there and keep an eye on them. When you’re finished with that, take a look at that strand of fir on the ridge. Make sure the rains haven’t washed them away. Then you can come home.”

“That’s it?” said Joe in surprise. “That’s all you want me to do?”

“Yes, that’s it. Unless of course you want me to try to think of some other chores for you to do,” Adam observed with a wry smile.

“No, that’s fine,” replied Joe quickly. He ticked off the list on his fingers. “Ride to Willow Ridge. Check the meadow, check the line shacks and check the fir trees.” Joe grinned. “I can do that.”

“Willow Ridge? That’s a long ride in some rough country,” observed Hoss with a frown.

“It’s not exactly the ends of the earth,” said Adam in a puzzled voice. “And it’s not like Joe hasn’t been up there before.”

“I was only thinking,” Hoss answered slowly, “Joe’s planning to ride that new stallion tomorrow. Willow Ridge isn’t exactly the best place to be if you end up on foot.”

Now it was Joe’s turn to frown. He had forgotten his vow to ride the stallion tomorrow. And Hoss was right – that country around Willow Ridge was pretty wild. But Joe quickly shrugged off his concern. He was confident he could handle any horse – including the stallion – up there.

“Don’t worry, Hoss,” Joe assured his brother. “I’ll get there and back in one piece.”

“Maybe Hoss is right,” suggested Adam, his voice full of doubt. “That’s no country to be riding an untried horse. I think you should take Cochise.”

“Adam, somebody has got to ride that horse,” said Joe in exasperation. “We can’t just let him sit around and eat all day.” He looked at Hoss. “Besides, you’re the one who dared me to ride him.”

“That was before I knew you were going up to Willow Ridge,” replied Hoss. “I thought you were just going to ride him down to the south pasture or something.”

“Don’t be foolish, Joe,” added Adam. “It’s not worth taking chances just to prove you can ride that horse.”

“You two are acting like a couple of old women,” said Joe shaking his head. “It’s not like that horse hasn’t been broken or ridden before. There’s nothing wrong with him except everyone thinks he’s bad luck or something. He’s a perfectly good horse, and I’m going to ride him to Willow Ridge.”  Joe glanced at Hoss, and his lips twitched in a smile. “I’m not afraid of that horse,” Joe added. “Unlike some others on this ranch.”  He picked up the platter in front of him and held it toward Hoss. “More chicken, brother?”

“Now just a dadburn minute,” Hoss said angrily, pounding the table with his fist. “If I told you once, I told you a hundred times. I ain’t afraid to ride that horse.”

“I never said you were,” stated Joe innocently. He looked at Adam with wide eyes. “Did I mention any names?”

“You didn’t have to mention any names,” growled Hoss. “You go ahead and ride that stallion up to Willow Ridge, Joe. I hope he dumps you on your head. Maybe that will drum a little sense into that puny brain of yours.”

“Oh, Hoss, I do believe you don’t care about me any more,” said Joe in an overly dramatic tone. He crossed his hands on his chest and closed his eyes. “I’m wounded that you would wish such ill luck on your baby brother.”

Shifting in his chair, Hoss tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation he suddenly felt. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, Joe, not really,” Hoss admitted. He gave Joe a shaky smile. “Maybe just a few bruises to teach you a lesson.”

“It’s nice to know you care,” Joe told his big brother with a laugh. “Relax, nothing’s going to happen. I’ll ride that stallion up to Willow Ridge and back. Maybe that will prove to people that he’s just a horse.”

Adam looked at Hoss, then back to Joe. “All right, it’s your hide,” he agreed with a shrug. “Just remember, it’s long way to Willow Ridge and back.”

“I know, Adam,” Joe acknowledged. Suddenly, he grinned. “It’s a real long ride, isn’t it,” he added.

Ignoring the puzzled looks from his brothers, Joe was already thinking of tomorrow. His father was bound to be home by the time he got back from Willow Ridge. Someone was sure to have told Pa about his buying the horse before he got back. Joe knew his father would still be unhappy about the cost of the horse, but if he had a couple of hours to think about it before Joe got back, he might not be quite as upset with his youngest son.

“Willow Ridge,” remarked Joe with a nod. “Maybe that horse will bring some good luck for a change.”

*****************

When it came time to saddle the black horse in the morning, Joe hadn’t expected to have an audience. As a result, he was surprised when he led the stallion out of the barn to find not only his brothers but also over half a dozen ranch hands standing in the yard, looking expectantly toward the barn. Joe had decided to saddle the horse in the yard, rather in the confined space of the barn, just in case the stallion got frisky when the weight was added to his back. He hadn’t realized that the word he was going to ride the supposedly cursed horse had spread through the bunkhouse like wildfire. Any of the men who didn’t absolutely have to be some place else were standing in the yard, waiting to see what would happen.

Grinning, Joe decided to make a show out of saddling the horse. As best he could, given that he held the reins of the bridle that circled the horse’s head in one hand and his saddle in the other, Joe bowed toward his audience. He held his arm out and let the reins drop to the ground. As he had been taught, the stallion stood still when the reins were dropped, but his eyes watched Joe nervously. Joe patted the horse a few times on the neck and murmured a few reassuring words.

With a flourish, Joe put the blanket and saddle on the stallion’s back. He saw the horse’s muscle tense up, but the black didn’t move. Patting the horse again, Joe began to tighten the cinch. He jabbed the animal lightly in the side a few times, making sure the horse expelled any air he was holding in, then tightened the cinch again. Joe shook the saddle horn a bit, making sure the saddle wasn’t going to slip. Then he picked up the reins and vaulted onto the back of the stallion.

Once more, the horse’s muscles tensed as Joe settled his weight into the saddle. But the stallion stood absolutely still, waiting for a command.

Taking off his hat, Joe waved it to the men in the yard, and bowed again to them. He grinned broadly when he saw the disappointed looks on the men’s faces as they started to drift away. Putting his hat back on his head, Joe twisted in the saddle a bit, so he could see Adam and Hoss.

“I’ll be back this afternoon,” said Joe. “I’ll see you then.”

“Have a good ride,” replied Adam with a nod.

“Be careful, Joe,” added Hoss. Then he grinned. “I’ll tell Pa you’re anxious to see him when you get back.”

A sick look came over Joe’s face at Hoss’ words. He turned to sit straight in the saddle, and kicked the stallion lightly to get him moving. “Come on, horse,” he said in a low voice as the horse started forward. “We’ve got to prove what a good buy you really are.”

As he watched Joe ride out of the yard, Hoss’ face grew serious. “You don’t think Joe’s going to have any trouble, do you?” he asked Adam anxiously.

“No," answered Adam in a reassuring voice. “You saw how well behaved the animal was. He won’t give Joe any trouble.”

“I wasn’t worried about the horse exactly,” said Hoss. He shook his head. “It’s just that there always seems to be trouble whenever that’s horse is around.”

“Joe’s right,” Adam replied with disgust. “You’re beginning to sound like some superstitious old woman. Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

Two hours later, Adam was sitting at the desk in the study when he heard a knock on the front door. He had been going over the books and making a list of the work that had been done in preparation for his father’s return. The knock surprised Adam. It wasn’t often that visitors came to the Ponderosa in the middle of the morning.

Pushing himself back from the desk, Adam rose and quickly walked to the front door. He pulled it open and was even more surprised when he saw Roy Coffee standing on the porch.

“Morning, Adam,” said the sheriff in a pleasant voice.

“Hello, Roy,” Adam greeted the lawman in return as he pulled the door wide. “Come on in.”

“Thanks,” replied Coffee pleasantly as he entered the house. He looked around briefly, familiar with the interior of the building. “Your Pa home yet?”

“He gets back this afternoon,” answered Adam. “You need to see him?”

“No,” said the sheriff shaking his head. “I was just wondering. We missed him at the poker game last week.”

“I’m sure he would have rather been there than in Sacramento,” Adam told Coffee with a smile. “Negotiating with the railroads is not one of his favorite things to do. Can I get you a cup of coffee or something?”

“No thanks,” replied Coffee. “I just stopped by for a minute. Is Hoss or Joe around?”

“Joe’s riding out to Willow Ridge and Hoss is chasing strays,” answered Adam. He looked at the sheriff curiously. “What did you want them for?”

“They’re not in any trouble, if that’s what’s worrying you,” said Coffee with a smile. “I just came by to tell them that fellow Townsend and his partners left Virginia City this morning.”

“Townsend?” For a minute, the name meant nothing to Adam. Then realization came to him. “Oh, right, the fellow they had the run in with. Hoss and Joe told me about that. That was four or five days ago, wasn’t it. I’m surprised he stayed around this long.”

“Well, his brother was still over at Doc Martin’s place until yesterday,” explained the sheriff. “Once he was well enough, though, I had him moved to my jail. Townsend stuck around to keep an eye on his brother.”

“Why did he leave, then?” asked Adam.

“Townsend’s brother is going to be all right,” Coffee replied. “Ain’t nothing for him to do now but lie in bed and he can do that in my jail. The circuit judge won’t be here for about six more weeks. Townsend finally decided to head home and come back when the trial starts. He can’t do anything for his brother until then, and he said he had a ranch over in Paradise Valley he had to get back to.” Roy shook his head. “It won’t be much of a trial. We caught his brother red-handed, and there’s three eye witnesses. Best the lawyer will be able to do is convince the judge to give him a light sentence.”

Frowning, Adam said, “I don’t understand, Roy. Why did you want to let Joe and Hoss know Townsend left town. It’s really not any concern of theirs, except testifying at the trial.”

“Well, this Townsend fellow, he was pretty mad at your brothers, particularly Joe,” answered the sheriff. “I warned Joe to be careful around him. I just wanted to let them know that Townsend was gone so they wouldn’t have to worry about him when they came to town.”

“I appreciate that, Roy,” said Adam. “But surely Townsend isn’t still mad about what happened. All Joe did was out-bid him for the horse. Townsend’s brother was the one who decided to steal it.”

“He was still pretty upset yesterday, especially when we moved his brother to the jail,” replied Coffee. “Kept saying that none of this would have happened if Joe had just let him buy that stallion.” Roy shook his head. “Townsend is blaming the Cartwrights for all his troubles.”

“Well, he gone so we don’t have to worry about him now,” said Adam.

“At least not until he comes back for the trial,” agreed Coffee. “We’ll see what happens then.” The sheriff turned toward the door. “You tell Hoss and Joe about Townsend leaving for me. Let them know they won’t have to worry about him when they come to Virginia City.”

“I will,” Adam promised, “although, frankly, I don’t think either one of them have given him much thought.”

“Probably not, but I wanted to let them know,” said the sheriff as he walked toward the door. “You tell your Pa we’ll expect him at the poker game on Wednesday,” added Coffee as he opened the door to leave.

“He’ll be there,” replied Adam with a smile.

As he closed the door behind the sheriff, Adam paused. He wondered about Townsend and what trouble the man might cause for his brothers when he returned for the trial. Then Adam shrugged. The trial was six weeks away. They could worry about Townsend then. He walked back to the desk to finish the list he had been working on for his father.

***********

Holding the reins tightly, Joe kept the stallion to a walk as they crossed the meadow near Willow Ridge. He could feel the horse pulling at the bit, and knew the stallion was eager to run. The horse had been anxious to stretch its legs ever since the two had left the Ponderosa, but the stallion’s eagerness had increased when they reached the meadow.

Riding slowly, Joe checked to ground to make sure it was solid and there were no holes or mud spots. The meadow looked like a perfect place to let the horse have its head, but Joe was smart enough to know looks could be deceiving. The thick grass could be hiding a muddy bog or other elements that would cause the horse to loose its footing. So far, Joe hadn’t found any dangers, but he wanted to be sure.

Patting the horse lightly on the neck, Joe said, “Soon, fellow. Just be patient.” The horse tossed his head as if he were indicating his agreement.

Grinning, Joe relaxed in the saddle as he rode slowly across the meadow. The ride from the Ponderosa had been an easy one. The stallion had a comfortable gait, and, although eager to run, had obeyed when Joe kept him at a slow pace as they covered the miles to Willow Ridge. Joe had wanted to be sure he had the animal under control as they made the trek to the ridge, so he had kept a tight rein on the horse. As the horse carried Joe further and further from the ranch house, Joe had begun to relax. The stallion had obeyed every step of the way, despite the horse’s desire to run. Joe could understand the stallion’s eagerness to break into a wild gallop after being penned up for so long. After spending two days cooped up in the house with Adam working on the branding schedule, Joe felt the same way.

As the horse and rider reached the edge of the meadow, Joe reined the stallion to a halt. The two had crossed the length of the field, and Joe hadn’t seen any evidence of muddy patches or debris. The ground was as solid as it looked. Joe turned the horse around so they were facing the length of the meadow. He was curious to see what kind of speed the horse had. Joe already was impressed by the animal’s stamina. After the long ride to the Willow Ridge, the stallion was still fresh and ready to run. If the horse had any kind of speed at all, Joe thought, they might be able to race him. He smiled at the idea. If the horse could race in addition to being good riding stock and being able to sire more horses, his father might not think the large amount Joe spent had been so foolish.

Patting the horse once more on the neck, Joe said to the stallion, “All right, boy, let’s see what you’ve got.” He kicked the horse into a gallop.  The horse responded immediately, and began to run. As he realized the rider wasn’t going to stop him, the stallion lengthened his stride. The animal ran hard, and both horse and rider enjoyed a feeling of freedom that neither had enjoyed for quite some time.

Up on the ridge, three riders came to the crest and reined their horses to a stop. All three looked down into the meadow below.

“Hey, look, Harry,” said Jake Campbell, pointing to the horse and rider below. “Ain’t that the Cartwright kid and the stallion you tried to buy?”

Peering down, Harry Townsend watched for a minute before answering. “Yeah, that’s him,” answered Townsend in a voice tinged with anger.

“Whew! Look at him go!” exclaimed Ed Neeley as he saw the horse racing across the meadow. “That’s some horse. Too bad we didn’t get him. We could have really made something of that ranch with a stallion like that.”

“I can understand why Jed made a try for him,” added Campbell. “I might have done it myself if I had thought of it.”

The mention of his brother fanned Townsend’s smoldering anger into flames. “That Cartwright!” he spat. “First he steals the horse out from under us, then he shoots Jed, and gets him put in jail. Now he’s out here flaunting that animal in front of us.”

“Aw, Harry, he didn’t know we was coming this way,” said Neeley in a mild voice. “We didn’t even know it ourselves until we decided to take the ridge trail. We just run into him by accident.”

“Accident? Maybe,” countered Townsend. “Or maybe just a bit of luck on our part.” He turned to partners. “I aim to get me that horse. Are you two with me?”

Neeley and Campbell looked at each other. “Guess so,” agreed Campbell with a shrug. “I sure would like that horse.”

Nodding, Neeley added, “For sure, no one’s going to stop us. Ain’t nobody out here but us and the Cartwright kid.” He looked at Townsend. “How you gonna get the horse, though?”

“Let me think on it a bit,” said Townsend, his eyes narrowing.

Below in the meadow, Joe was unaware that he was being observed. He was having too much fun racing the stallion across the grass to worry about who else might be around. After crossing the meadow twice, however, Joe pulled the stallion is a slow walk and then halted him. The horse obeyed his rider reluctantly. Although breathing hard, the stallion was ready to continue running the length of the field.

“Easy, fellow, easy,” crooned Joe in a soothing voice as he patted the horse and calmed him. The stallion had stopped running, but he demonstrated his eagerness to continue by pawing the ground. “I know you want to keep going,” said Joe as he continued to rub the horse’s neck, “but we got some work to do. Besides, I don’t want you to be too tired to carry me home.”

As if he were answering his rider, the horse snorted and tossed his head. Joe grinned at the animal’s actions. “You’re almost as stubborn as I am,” he laughed. “Come on, let’s cool you down, and then get up the ridge.”

For about ten minutes, Joe walked the horse in a small circle, cooling him off and slowing the horse’s breathing. When he felt the animal was sufficiently recovered from the run, Joe guided the stallion to a small stream at the edge of the meadow and dismounted. He let the horse drink while he filled his canteen, keeping an eye that the animal didn’t consume too much from the stream. After he had gotten back on the horse, Joe pulled the reins lightly and steered the horse away from the stream. “Come on, fellow,” he said in a reluctant voice. “We’ve got work to do.”

Joe guided the stallion to a path at the side of the meadow, where a small trail that led up the ridge. Horse and rider began the gradual ascent to the top of the ridge. As he rode, Joe could feel the easy gait of the stallion underneath him, a much more relaxed walk than before. The run had allowed the animal to expel its pent-up energy.

As he led the horse up the ridge, Joe didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings. His thoughts were busy with forming the discourse he was going to give his Pa on the advantages of owning a stallion that possessed both speed and stamina, in addition to being good riding stock and a potential sire. By the time he had reached the top of the ridge, Joe felt he had put together a pretty good argument on why buying the horse was a good idea.  Or at least, one he hoped was going to be convincing to his father.

Once Joe reached the tope of the ridge, he pulled his horse to a halt. Looking around, he said, “Which way do you think, fellow?”  The horse stood patiently, waiting for Joe to give him direction. “No opinion, eh?” continued Joe with a chuckle. He glanced to his left, his eyes following the worn path through the rocks and grass. Then Joe shifted in the saddle, and looked a bit to his right, toward a stand of trees which grew sparsely in front, but seemed to thicken in the distance.

“Let’s check those trees first,” Joe advised the stallion. “We can swing back to the line shacks later.” He pulled the reins gently to the right and lightly kicked the horse. The black animal began to walk toward the trees.

It was less than a mile from the edge of the ridge to the trees. As Joe neared the tall firs, he looked off into the distance, rather than at the closest trees. He was trying to judge the density of the growth, and trying to determine if there were any bare spots or other signs of damage in the grove. As a result, Joe was totally unprepared to for the sight of three men emerging from the trees, holding pistols and blocking his path.

“Well, well,” said Townsend as Joe jerked the stallion to a stop in surprise. “Look who we have here. Hello, Cartwright.”

“Townsend!” exclaimed Joe in astonishment.

“We were all set to follow you,” Townsend stated with a nasty grin. “And here you ride right up to us. Looks like this is our lucky day.” Gesturing with his gun, Townsend added, “Drop those reins and get down off the horse.”

His eyes narrowing, Joe tried to judge the chance of leaping from the horse onto Townsend or one of the other men. But his practiced eye told him the men were too far from the horse. And all three had guns aimed at Joe. While Joe suspected none of the three were expert gunmen, even a poor shot would be have a hard time missing him from such a close range.

Dropping the reins, Joe swung his leg over the saddle and slipped off the stallion. “What do you want Townsend?” he asked as his feet hit the ground. Joe took a step from away from the horse and moved closer to the men.

“Hold it!” shouted Townsend as Joe came nearer. As Joe stopped, Townsend continued, “Take that gun out of your holster and throw it a