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Welcome to my page and the stories that I have written.

Writing for me is an escape from the real world and where I get to decide what happens to the characters.

I hope that as readers make their way through each chapter, they are drawn in and feel a connection with each of them.

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Chapter Four – Trees and Elves

Much to the relief of Merry and Pippin, Strider was the one to save them from the wrath of Samwise and the annoyed expressions from Gandalf and Bilbo.

“Are you sure you are alright Mr Frodo?” Sam asked making sure that the apple had not struck hard enough to leave a mark.

“Yes thank you, Sam,” Frodo said, getting off the couch to testify to what he was saying.   Frodo now got himself a cool drink of water.

“Has you headache eased at all Frodo lad?” Bilbo asked, noting that being struck on the head by an object may have caused the pain to lengthen in duration.

“Actually it has, but only slightly most probably due to the shortness of my nap,” Frodo said, giving at disapproving look at his two younger cousins once again.

“If I may make a suggestion for the afternoon,” Strider interjected.  “I will gladly take all of the young hobbits outside if it were to only allow Bilbo and Gandalf more time to talk or prepare for tomorrow’s celebrations.”

“Would you do that Strider?” Bilbo asked, grateful that the Ranger would offer to keep them occupied and out of Bag End if only for a few hours.   “Of course if Frodo or Samwise wishes to stay I am certain that they would not disturb us.”

“Thank you Strider, I would appreciate going back out doors on such a nice day outside.  A little more fresh air may be greatly beneficial and welcome,” Frodo said, pleased that the man was taking such an active interest in himself and his cousins.

“I’ll be coming with you to Mr Frodo,” Sam said, more of a statement than a request.  After two incidents already in the short period his master’s cousins had been there, he was not about to let Mr Frodo go off in their company without being forever watchful.

Once earlier observations about the Ranger had been sorted out and explained, Sam knew that Strider would not let any harm come to his master.   Sam reminded that there may be things about his master that the Ranger might question and not know the answer to.   It was his duty to see to all of Mr Frodo’s needs and he aimed to do it to be best of his ability

“We can go and play in the stream and dream up some adventures in the tall grass, Merry,” Pippin said, clearly excited about the idea.   “Come on Frodo and Sam what are we all waiting for?” he said, trying to race to the doorway.

“Hold on a minute there young Took, it might be wise to take some cool water to drink and something to eat later with you if you plan to stay out for a time,” Gandalf suggested.

“Mind you don’t get taking your games too seriously Pippin or ruin your clothes with your rough play after just arriving,” Bilbo said.   Previous visits by the two lads Merry and Pippin had caused Bilbo much distress upon time for them to return home when he would have to explained to their parents what had happened to their nice clothes.

Sam went about getting a small basket ready for their afternoon’s activities.  There was cool fresh water to drink, apples to eat under the shade of the trees and a few biscuits as well that Bilbo offered.

“I will bring them all back safely before it is time to prepare supper,” Strider said.

The four young hobbits and Ranger now walked out Bag End and paused at the top of the hill to decide which direction to take next.    It seemed that Merry and Pippin had already made up their minds for everyone and they were already halfway down the hill before Strider or Frodo got a chance to ask where they were being led.

“They seem to have an abundance of energy for ones so small,” Strider now commented as he held back his pace a little for Sam to keep up with him.

The Ranger had already offered to take the basket from Sam if it became too heavy but Sam had objected and said that it was not necessary.

“They will certainly keep us all on our toes this afternoon I suspect,” Frodo said in reply.   He couldn’t help but smile at the exuberance his two younger cousins displayed almost every minute of the day.

There were only two occasions when such energy wasn’t apparent, the first being when they slept at night and the second being when it was meal time.   Although the second one was not as certain either for Frodo had experienced their enjoyment of food many times, noting that both would eat until there was nothing left upon the table and then be still voicing that they were hungry.

The shaded trees were now only a short distance away.  Merry and Pippin had slowed their pace some and were walking a short distance in front of the other three.   Frodo found himself wanting to let go a little as well that afternoon and enjoy the sunshine for as long as possible.

Frodo now walked a little more briskly towards Merry before turning to him to say something.

“Merry I have something to tell you,” Frodo in a slightly serious tone.  He glanced away briefly making sure that his path in front was clear and unobstructed.

“What is it cousin?” Merry asked not reading anything more into Frodo’s words.

“Your tagged,” Frodo said and in less than a half-beat was now racing away from his two astounded cousins towards the long grass and trees.

“Why you……………… Baggins,” Merry said as he started to run after his fleeing cousin.    “You won’t get far dear Frodo,” he added.

Pippin wasn’t going to be left out of the fun and games and was soon tailing Merry before pulling out in front in his attempts to catch sight of his older cousin.

Strider and Sam couldn’t help but laugh out loud at Frodo’s tactics towards his cousins.  It pleased Sam no end that his master was having such fun at present.

Sam and the Ranger didn’t need to worry about loosing the three hobbits for their laughter soon echoed through the trees, directing the trailing two in the right direction.

They came to a wooded area with a number of very large trees, one in particular looking magnificent with the different hues in its leaves and the stark whiteness of it’s trunk.

There was a small stream gleaming a few metres away and it was here that Sam and Strider now spotted the other three.   The water wasn’t very deep, merely a few inches high, but it ran like crystal along its course so that the stones on the bottom could be clearly defined.

Merry and Pippin were already involved in playful frolic, happily splashing each other with the water as they stood in the middle of the stream.  The bottom of their breeches was wet from their attempts to soak each other but other than that they remained mostly dry.

Frodo on the other hand was merely content to stand on the very edges of the stream, far enough away from his two cousins that he not be showered by them.   The water was so inviting and he let the coolness run over this feet.

Sam set the basket down under the larger tree and both he and the Ranger watched from beneath it’s shady canopy.

“Why does Frodo not join in with Merry and Pippin?” Strider asked, noting that it the expression on the hobbit’s face was as though he forced himself not to go any deeper into the water.

“Tis not natural for a hobbit to be fully submerged in water unless they are bathing Sir, although with Mr Frodo’s cousins you’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise,” Sam answered.   “That is what my Gaffer always says.”

“My master has other reasons for not wanting to go any further than the edge,” he added and turned his attention to unpacking the basket to avoid the Ranger’s curiosity further.

Strider did not press the subject further at this point in time as it became apparent that he was in danger of putting a dampener on the currently happy atmosphere by asking such a question.

A few minutes later, Merry, Pippin and Frodo all came to join their companions under the shade of the tree.   The two younger hobbits were still trying to catch their breath after much activity in a short space of time.

Frodo now sat down directly under the tree, separated a little from the others, leaning his back against the strong trunk.   He willed himself to relax and enjoy the peaceful surroundings, the breeze gently ruffling his hair.

“Do you have any stories that we can share Strider?” Pippin asked as he grabbed at one of the biscuits Sam had just set down on a small plate.

“Depends on which type of stories you would like to hear,” Strider said as he made himself a little more comfortable underneath the tree.  He looked over at Frodo, who by now had his eyes closed but was not asleep.   He would still be able to hear what was said.

“I want to hear about some of your other adventures,” Merry declared.  “Action with swords and fighting.”   Strider raised an eyebrow at such a strong inclination  for stories with violence.

“What about you Sam, what would you prefer to hear?” Strider asked, involving him as much as the others in the conversation and decision.

“You’re asking me, Sir?” Sam said with a surprised expression.  To be in the company of such a man as Strider was indeed unusual to say the least but more than he could have hoped for and he had his master to thank for most of that outcome.

“Yes Sam, I am asking you,” Strider repeated, noting that Sam was one not used to having been asked what he would like or prefer.

“Beggin your pardon Sir, but if I were to have a choice, and I thank you for offering, it would be to hear about the elves that Master Bilbo has spoken to me about,” Sam said.

“If your story has elves in it Strider then you are sure to win Sam’s heart,” Frodo now said, still relaxing against the tree and still with his eyes closed.

“Oh, who wants to hear about them,” Pippin said with a little disappointment in his voice.     He gave Sam an apologetic look for sounding like the idea was a poor one.

“Would it please you all to know that I know of many stories that would entail both elves and adventure?” the Ranger now offered in compromise.

“Do you know about Elves Mr Strider?” Sam asked, not knowing anybody else apart from Master Bilbo who claimed to know as much about such different folk.

”One of my closest and dearest friends is an elf, Sam.   He is indeed a true example of his kind.   He is also of noble birth, a prince no less among his own people. And  we have had many adventures together during our long friendship,” Strider said, noting the looks of awe coming from Sam about an elf that was also a prince.   He knew he had one over Merry and Pippin to with his talk about adventures.

“Please tell us, Strider,” Pippin asked, giving his best pouting look.

“Is it true what they say about Elves being able to sneak up behind you without hearing them?” Merry asked.

“Yes it is true Merry.   Elves are very well known for their stealth and ability to walk along paths but leave little or no trace of their presence as others would do.”

“Master Bilbo has learned me that they have very fair skin,” Sam said, trying to remember the descriptions he had heard in the past.

“That is true Sam, you have remembered your tuition well, for Legolas and many others  of his kind have very fine features and fair complexions,” Strider said in response.

“Hey Frodo that means you might be part Elven,” Merry said, interrupting the flow of conversation for a moment.  “I’ve always said that your skin is much too pale for a hobbit, even if you are part Baggins and part Brandybuck.”

“Yes Merry but Frodo couldn’t be an Elf because his hair is much too dark,”

Pippin piped in, agreeing that Frodo had some of the similarities in his face that Elven people were said to have inherited.

“Elves are said to have hair as fair as their skin, though I have never seen one to affirm this,” Pippin explained giving what little information he knew about them.

“Ah but young Peregrin, I know Elrond, Lord of the Elves.  He has long hair that is encircled by a symbol of his race, the colour is described as being dark as the shadows of twilight,” Strider said, seeing that he held keen interest of such things from the younger two hobbits.

“Lady Arwen, Lord Elrond’s daughter also has also long lustrous hair that is written in books to be dark braids of hair touched by no frost,”

“The elves certainly have a pretty way of putting words together don’t they,” Sam reflected.   Many a times he had heard Bilbo sing songs that the elves had written and all of them had so much poetry and meaningfulness to them unlike any other songs that Sam had ever known before.

“Does your friend have fair hair Strider?” Merry asked.   “I don’t think you have told us his name yet.”

“Legolas,” Strider informed them.  “His name is Legolas, a Prince of royal descent and yes he has long fair hair.  Some of the strands are often plaited or braided to keep them away from his face.

“A strange sounding name I must say,” Merry commented never hearing a name for someone even remotely similar.

“If you don’t mind Merry, no matter what characteristics I may share or not share with elves, I would need to grow quite a lot taller than I am I should think.   I am quite happy to call myself a plain ordinary hobbit,” Frodo said to his cousin.

Frodo was keeping up with the conversation but not involving himself much.  He tried to hide a smile at the suggestion that he might have Elven bloodlines further back in his heritage.

“Enough talk about how elves should look, what of these adventures you had?” Pippin now demanded, hoping they would get to the good parts of the story soon.

“Ah, I see you are a little over zealous,” Strider remarked.

“Tell me more about this place Mirkwood you mentioned?” Merry asked. “I have been told it is very strange place to be visiting.”

“That is true Merry for those who do not know the hidden dangers,” Strider said with a note of warning in his voice.  “Mirkwood is a very picturesque part of Middle-earth with many beautiful trees and plants that grow no where else.”

As the three hobbits and Ranger talked of strange lands and people, they failed to notice Frodo choosing now to depart their company.  He did not want to interrupt their discussion and planned only to wander but a few metres away to stretch his legs.

“What are the hidden dangers Strider?” Pippin asked in a nervous voice.

“Spiders Pippin,” Strider said as he watched the faces of the three small hobbits grow round with fear.   “They are very small and hardly look troublesome for those who would come across them.  But they are poisonous and should be well left alone,” he explained.

“I do not like crawling bugs of any kind Mr Strider,” Sam now commented as his skin suddenly felt all tingling just thinking about coming into contact with such creatures.

“I dare say my master would not like them any more than I either, do you Mr Frodo?” Sam asked, expecting to hear a voice in reply.  A memory came to him of a much earlier time when Frodo had found a large bug on his bedding one day.  Frodo had not wanted to admit to anyone how much he hated crawling insects or bugs.

The reply did not come though and all turned their faces to where they knew Frodo to be sitting only a few minutes earlier.    To their surprise, the grassy spot was now vacant.

“Mr Frodo?” Sam asked again as he got to his feet and walked around the tree in case his master had sought to lay down and doze in the dappled shade.

“Frodo?” Strider repeated after Sam, he too getting to his feet and concerned that he could see no sign of the hobbit.

“Sneaked away as quiet as the elves,” Merry said, seeing Pippin nod his head in agreement.

“I believe Frodo to be sensible enough and not wander to far away.   Let us take a short walk and see if we can find him,” Strider suggested.

“We don’t even know which direction he went in though,” Merry said, pointing out what seemed obvious.    They couldn’t see Frodo anywhere within viewable distance from the tree.

“But if we use what evidence is before us and our knowledge of Frodo, then we will surely pick up his trail soon enough,” Strider said, remaining positive.

“What evidence are you talking about?” Pippin asked, not being able to see any sign that Frodo might have left to show where he went.

“Come here Pippin, Merry and Sam,” Strider instructed, kneeling in front of the spot where Frodo had been sitting earlier.

“He may have moved as silently as an elf, but I am afraid that Frodo does not have the feet to match,” he said, pointing to footprints made on the ground.

As they looked beyond the footprints and into the long-grass, a definite path could be seen where blades of grass had been trodden on or lay bent over from where Frodo passed by.

Sam now lead the group as they followed the trail to the missing Frodo.

Whilst Frodo’s friends only just noticed that he wasn’t with them and beginning to worry of his whereabouts, the dark-haired hobbit was enjoying himself immensely.

After a short walk away from his companions, Frodo had come to another large tree in the wooded area.   Whilst this one was not so wide spread in it’s branches, it was much taller and the leaves were of a more natural green colour.

Frodo had always liked climbing trees and sit perched amongst the higher branches, listening to the sounds that were around him.   From where he was he could let the breeze blow and rustle the leaves taking him back in time to when he lived at Brandy Hall.   He had often climbed trees near there as well before moving in with Bilbo.

Frodo could hear birds somewhere above him, making nests and raising families, singing and chirping as they went about their routine.   He could see out into the rest of the wooded area and survey the area for a greater distance than he would have normally seen from the ground.

The branch that Frodo had chosen to sit on was a very large one that grew much longer than some further down the trunk.   It was sturdy and strong and would easily accommodate his weight.   The young hobbit now looked upwards and spotted another branch, and although it was thinner, it was only fractionally shorter than the other.

It was at times such at this when he completely on his own and enjoying what nature had to offer that Frodo found himself showing another side to himself rarely displayed in front of others, including Samwise.   There were times when he let his heart rule his body and his actions rather than acting like a sensible hobbit ought to.

Frodo stood up on the bottom branch, placing his feet carefully on the thicker bottom branch.   He now reached up with his arms at full stretch and comfortably encircled his hands around the width of the narrower branch above.

For the next few minutes, he walked back and forth a few feet in either direction along the branch and then back again towards the trunk, always keeping his grip firmly on the higher branch.   He placed his feet deliberately and accurately each time as though where he walked was much narrower.

As he kept his concentration focused on where he placed his feet, Frodo was unaware of his companions approaching down on the ground.

“The trail sort of ends around here,” Merry now pointed out, not yet having looked into the trees.   He and the rest of the group had been intent on following the trail on the ground before them but now they could see little sign of where Frodo had gone next.

Strider was the first to look to the branch and notice the young hobbit, grateful that he had done so before the others.   He couldn’t help but fear for Frodo’s safety as he watched in silence.

“Sam, Merry, Pippin, I have found him but you need to keep quiet before I point him out to you,” the Ranger whispered.

“Why do we need to keep quiet?” Merry asked, thinking it was not something that was going to stop them from finding his missing cousin.

“Look yonder Merry but do not shout out too loudly for what  you see,” Strider warned before raising his arm so they could follow with their eyes.

“Oh my lord!” Sam said with a little more volume than he or Strider would have liked. He quickly clamped his own hand over his mouth but could not hide the fear in his eyes that he now held for his master.

Merry and Pippin were both about to call out to their cousin upon seeing him perched in the tree but refrained as Strider repeated his warning of not startling Frodo.

“We have to get him down from there now!” Pippin said to the Ranger in a whisper.  The fact that the youngest hobbit was whispering at all or was capable of it, demonstrated just how afraid he was that Frodo would fall.

“Frodo has always been the one to climb trees.  Even back in Brandy Hall he was told about how dangerous it was.  He never listened though,” Merry commented as he thought back to earlier times.

“I am certain that Legolas and Frodo would fast become friends now that I see him doing such things.   Legolas too has an affinity for climbing trees though he had never fallen out of one so far as I know,” Strider stated, trying to reassure the hobbits that Frodo might not be in any direct danger.

“Mr Strider you just have to get him down before he falls,” Sam voiced again softly, his fear not having been abated in the slightest by talk of others doing the same thing.

“I agree with you Sam, but we must also be cautious in how we go about doing it. If Frodo was to startle suddenly then we would be causing more harm than good,” Strider said.

“Let us wait until he is closer to the trunk before trying to attract his attention,”
Strider suggested, noting that Frodo was only just beginning to walk back towards the tree.

Frodo stopped walking about halfway along, still holding tightly onto the branch above.  His gaze turned upwards to the branch above as he now tried to use the strength in his arms to lift himself up onto the higher branch.

Sam’s heart was almost in his throat as he watched his master become even more daring than he had ever thought was possible of him.  Inwardly he told himself that once Frodo was safely on the ground he would have to have a stern conversation with his master.

Although Strider was a little concerned himself about Frodo’s safety, upon watching the agile young hobbit, he couldn’t help but be amazed at his flexibility and strength for one so small.   There was so much to learn about this most interesting of hobbits.

By now, Frodo had managed to complete his desire and pulled himself up onto the higher branch.  He still held onto the branch with one hand as he waited to steady himself properly.    It was only now that he became aware of being watched.

Without remembering the warning Strider had given moments before, Pippin had also been amazed at what Frodo had achieved.  The youngest member of the group now only wanted to show how impressed he was and began clapping towards his cousin.

“No Pippin,” Merry shouted harshly, also forgetting that he too was supposed to be using a softer voice.  But the damage was already done.

Frodo was startled by the clapping from his cousin and the shout from Merry.  He lost his balance and attempted to grab a hold of the branch but wasn’t quick enough.  His concentration had been interrupted and as he tried to find a firm foothold, all he found was air.  All watching yelled in horror as they saw Frodo lose his balance.

Before anybody could prevent it, Frodo fell backwards off the branch, a smaller branch striking him across the cheek as he toppled.   There was a cry for help as he tried to stop himself and then a harsh thud as he fell face first onto the ground underneath the tree.

Strider had tried in vain to get to the tree to try and cushion the fall with his own body, but he was not fast enough either.   Frodo now lay on his stomach in the grass not moving.

“FRODO!” the three hobbits managed to say in unison as they all arrived a second behind the Ranger and tried to assess how badly he had been hurt.

“Are you alright little one?” Strider asked, feeling as though there should have been something more he could have done to prevent such an accident.  He had promised Bilbo that he would protect him whilst in the Shire and although Frodo’s wandering away from them had been unexpected, he still laid a great deal of blame on himself.

At first there was no response and he thought the hobbit must have lost consciousness as he landed.  He placed his hands on the hobbit’s slim shoulders and was about to gently turn him over to see what injuries he had sustained.

“Please be alright Mr Frodo,” Sam said, almost on the verge of tears.  “You just got to be.”

“S-Sam……..” came the response, Frodo still trying to let the air back into his lungs.

Strider and the hobbits couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at hearing even that one word escape his lips.   After a few more seconds, Frodo had regained enough of his senses to try and pull himself into a sitting position.

The hobbit winced at the dull ache he felt in his chest when he did so, but he tried to put on a brave face.   He looked up and saw the distressed faces of Sam and his two cousins.   The Ranger knelt beside him, looking him over very carefully and waiting for him to tell him what hurt the most.

“Just got the wind knocked out of me a bit,” he said, but placed a hand on the spot on his chest that was causing discomfort and trying to rub the pain away with the palm of his hand.

“Let me take a look Frodo,” Strider now instructed as he gently undid the buttons on Frodo’s shirt and took a look underneath the hand.

“It is a little reddened at the moment and no doubt you will have discomfort for a day or so, not to mention a bruise afterwards,” Strider diagnosed.

“Frodo I  am sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you like that,” Pippin said, worried that he was the most responsible for his cousin’s fall.

“I must admit I did not know you were watching but you are not to blame dear Pip,” Frodo said, placing a hand on the youngest hobbit’s shoulder and helping to divert his concerns.

“Oh Mr Frodo I was so worried about seeing you up in that tree like that,” Sam blurted out.

“What were you doing climbing that tree anyway Frodo?” Pippin asked.

“I like being around trees Pippin,” Frodo declared as he let himself be pulled to his feet.  “It makes me feel good inside to be around things in nature.”

“I bet your not feeling to good inside there right now,” Merry commented ruefully. “Silly hobbit,” he added, getting a sheepish grin in return from Frodo.

“Are you sure you can walk back without too much discomfort Frodo?” the Ranger enquired.    Frodo seemed to be standing on his own alright with little sign of any problems with his sense of balance at the moment.

“I will be fine,” Frodo said, a little embarrassed that he had caused his friends and companions to worry so much about him.

The group now started to head back to Bag End.   All of them were lost in their own thoughts for a time.  Strider was trying to come up with a plausible explanation for Gandalf and Bilbo why he hadn’t kept a sharper eye on the lad.

Sam was determined not to let his master Mr Frodo out of his sight again that afternoon and making sure that he would know if Frodo was trying to hide any pain.

The pace returning to Bag End was somewhat slower than it had been leaving, but Frodo did not voice any complaints or concerns along the way.  Sam had already promised to make a nice cup of hot tea for them all once they were there.  Hopefully the tea would help his master relax and allow any sore muscles to do the same.

As it happened, Gandalf was talking with Bilbo in the kitchen when the Ranger and hobbits came through the front door.   Bilbo had been very busy making some of the dishes for the party whilst Gandalf was prepared just to sit back and enjoy his pipe whilst engaging his friend in intelligent conversation and memories of old times.

“What have we here, our much too noisy friends have returned Bilbo,” Gandalf said with a laugh.   He noticed that Merry and Pippin were still trying to escape his piercing gaze but there was also something else.

Frodo walked in front of Strider and could not hide a few winces of pain as he shuffled his feet along the floor, looking for the words to say to his uncle Bilbo.    The ranger himself had a most strange look on his face as though he might be guilty of something.

Sam was the first to inform them of the misadventures of the afternoon, “Master Bilbo, Frodo hurt himself falling out of a tree,” he announced.   Frodo and Strider both inwardly groaned, hoping they would be able to relay the details a little more subtly.

“Frodo lad are you hurt somewhere?” Bilbo now asked, wiping his floured hands on a cloth and walking forward with a concerned look on his face.  His mind had only yet focused on Sam’s words that the boy was hurt.

“Only a little bruising Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo said, giving his best sympathetic look with his expressive blue eyes.    “It doesn’t hurt so much now,” he added, hoping to ease a little of his uncle’s worry.

“I am sorry Bilbo but I could not get to him in time to prevent his fall.   I will have Frodo sit a minute while I examine the area more closely,” Strider suggested.

“Oh I know you are not at fault Strider.   Falling from a tree Sam is it? Well that doesn’t surprise me one bit with our young Frodo here.  He was always a little keen on trees even before he moved here to Hobbiton.” Bilbo said as he saw Sam’s nod of him getting the version of events correct.

“Frodo you go with Strider and do what he says while he takes a look at you.  Sam and I will make a nice cup of tea for you and I will put some herbs in that will help with any pain,” Bilbo suggested.

Merry and Pippin decided it best to keep out of the way for a few minutes and were content to move closer to the table where Gandalf sat.  Pippin couldn’t help but spot the pies that Bilbo had been preparing a little earlier.  He reached out his hand and tried to sneak a piece of the dough before his hand was slapped away by Merry.

Merry gave his best disapproving look to his younger cousin, but he too was soon dipping his finger in the soft, edible dough whilst Bilbo and the others were concerned with Frodo.

Frodo obediently went with the Ranger into the sitting room where he could be more comfortable on the settee.   He stretched out along it and patiently waited for Strider to look at his chest.

“I didn’t know you knew about such matters,” Frodo said as he watched the Ranger use hands of gentleness that he would not have normally associated with men.   The touch was light and firm but did not hurt.

“I have learned much about the skill of healing from Lord Elrond that I spoke of earlier.  I was fortunate enough to learn quickly under his careful and great knowledge,” Strider replied.

“Here is your tea Mr Frodo sir,” Sam said as he walked over to his master and placed the mug of tea on a small table beside the settee.

“I could probably lessen any discomfort for you a little more if I had the athelasplant among my possessions.   I am not certain it grows in this area though,” Strider commented, looking towards the wizard for his assistance.

“No Strider you are right, that plant does not suit well in these regions,” Gandalf said blowing out a puff of smoke.

“I was just about to start to prepare supper, Samwise would you like to join us?” Bilbo asked, knowing that Frodo would appreciate his offer.

“Can he stay with all night Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo now asked with a touch of excitement in his voice.  “There are already three of us and there is plenty of space,” he added.  Somehow it didn’t feel right that he and his two cousins would be allowed to join in fun and games later on that evening without Sam to enjoy it too.

“Mr Frodo I am just overjoyed you would ask,” Sam commented, very grateful for his master’s invitation.  He had never thought of staying overnight in Bag End unless Mr Frodo wasn’t feeling well and he had been asked to keep him company whilst he recovered.

Now he was not only being asked to stay overnight but to be included in the fun of it all.  “Are you sure there is enough room, beggin your pardon as you seem to have a number of guests already Master Bilbo?”

“I think that’s a splendid idea Frodo,” Bilbo said, noting the happiness in his nephew’s eyes.

“But what will I tell my Gaffer,” Sam said, knowing that his father might frown a little on such matters where class and knowing one’s proper place were expected.

“Well Sam, now that Frodo has gone and hurt himself some and with all of these other guests as you say, I need someone with some good old fashioned hobbit sense in case he needs anything during the night,” Bilbo explained, giving Frodo a sly smile to go with his words.

Gandalf and Strider couldn’t help but try and hide grins behind their mugs of tea as they listened to the older hobbit trying to coax Sam into thinking he was doing the right thing.

“Frodo’s hand will need to be attended to and the bandages changed after his bath.  I will need someone who has a sound mapping of my kitchen to help prepare the right sort of tea before bed so that he can rest through the night without being disturbed by any lingering discomfort.  Merry and Pippin will be full of energy I suspect and therefore they might not be suited to such an important task,” Bilbo said, giving the stout hobbit a viable alibi that he could tell his Gaffer.

Bilbo knew about Hamfast’s views on taking care of those better than themselves.  He would use such views to his advantage without stretching the truth too much.  He doubted Frodo would like having himself referred to as needing as much help as he said, but he also knew his nephew would be more than willing to endure such remarks if it allowed Sam to join him and his cousins.

“I’ll go and see him Master Bilbo and tell him the same, that Mr Frodo may be needing some company as well as caring for his hurts,” Sam said, now mirroring the excitement that his master had displayed.  “If all is right, I will return with a change of clothes and some of my mother’s fresh made confectionary.  Made it just for Mr Frodo’s birthday she said too.”

“Um, well will come with you to support your story Sam,” Merry now offered, giving his younger cousin a quick jab with his elbow.  “We will make sure that Sam gets home safely and back again.” he added.

“Oh yes, we will won’t we Merry,” Pippin said, following the lead unaware of his obvious overacting.

“Is that alright with you Mr Frodo sir?” Sam asked, a little wary as to why Frodo’s two cousins would be offering to go with him until he remembered mentioning something about his mother’s homemade sweets.   At least now he knew what they were up to.   Hoping to get the candy for themselves no doubt Sam told himself.

“That’s quite alright Sam, go now and you can come back and we can have supper and then I will read some stories to you all in my room,” Frodo said, by now already knowing like Sam why Merry and Pippin were insisting that they went along too.

Frodo and the three adults watched the three hobbits head back out of Bag End and walk what would be a relatively short distance to Sam’s home.

“Those too are incorrigible Bilbo,” Gandalf now said, breaking the silence in the room.  He wasn’t cross with the two cousins, but was not accustomed to such brazen measures taken at any opportunity to gain for themselves.

“Ah, yes I am afraid they are at that Gandalf, but don’t fret so.  Underneath Merry and Pippin are quite sensible even for their ages.  They will not do wrong by Sam once they are in the presence of others.   They will mind their manners and be nothing but charming to the Gamgee family I am sure.

“Your pies and delicious pastries smell wonderful Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo said as the enticing aromas wafted out to him in settee.   A mixture of just the right of nutmeg and cinnamon and a few other sweet smells that were beginning to make him hungry.

“Ah supper will be ready very shortly my dear boy,” Bilbo said with a chuckle, delighted for once that his cooking had such an effect on his young nephew.   “I have been very busy since you were gone all afternoon.   That apple barrel down in the cellar will need replenishing by tomorrow as well as most of my other cooking ingredients.”

“You mean that giant barrel of apples,” Frodo said in astonishment.  His memory took him back to a month before when the barrel had first been brought in by Sam’s Gaffer.  He had questioned his Uncle back than as to why they needed such a large barrel for just the two of them.

Bilbo had replied by telling him that it didn’t hurt to have a supply of fresh food wherever possible, particularly when a certain young nephew was quite fond of apples and was often found pilfering one or two before heading outdoors for his walks.

Bilbo looked towards Frodo when he finished speaking and saw the boy’s mind ticking over with the information he had just been told.    “What are you thinking about?” he asked, clearly seeing an air of mischief coming from his nephews blue eyes.

“I think you have just given me a little idea about how to get back at Merry and Pippin,” Frodo said with a grin as he went to get off the settee.

“Mr Strider, may I enquire if you have a cloak that I may borrow for but a few minutes.  I promise it will not come to any harm,” Frodo enquired from the Ranger.

“I do indeed, and I have no objections but must ask what are you planning to do?” Strider said, relieved that Frodo seemed to have suffered very few ill effects from his fall.

The hobbit’s movement was uninhibited from what the ranger could see.  It looked as though the bruise that would be present the following morning would be the only reminder of the mishap.

“To give two certain young cousins a taste of their own medicine,” Frodo said as he took the cloak Strider offered.    He was even more pleased to see that the cloak was also hooded.  Even better for his idea.   It was much darker in colour than his own and a great deal longer but that would suit his purpose even more.

By now the adults had a vague notion of what Frodo planned to do.  Bilbo and Gandalf did not usually see Frodo involving himself in such activities, but would not deny now that they thought a little harmless fun would entertain them all.

“Uncle could you see that Merry and Pippin come looking for me once they have returned?” Frodo said as he started heading down to the cellar.

“Yes Frodo, I will tell them,” Bilbo said as he began clearing away his cooking dishes in order to set the table for supper.

“Looks as though the young apprentice has an accomplice Bilbo,” Gandalf laughed.  “You are not returning to ways when you were much younger are you?”

“I’ll see to it that you and the Ranger are blamed as much as I am Gandalf, should it become necessary,” Bilbo teased.   Strider and Gandalf both chuckled at the remark.

About five minutes after Frodo went down to the cellar, Merry and Pippin returned to Bag End, followed closely by Sam carrying a small backpack with his change of clothes.

“I see your Gaffer was agreeable to you staying then Sam,” Bilbo said as he laid plates and cutlery on the table for all.

“Not at first Master Bilbo, I must admit.  He wasn’t too keen on the idea at all.  But I am most grateful for Mr Merry here who helped to repeat the reasons why I was needed that you did.   That I needed to help look after Mr Frodo and the like.   My Gaffer changed his mind then and said it was alright as long as I remember to help out where I was needed most,” Sam explained.

Merry and Pippin were both pleased with their efforts of being able to persuade Sam’s parents into letting him stay at Bag End.   Like their cousin, they would be a little disappointment had he had to return home and miss out on the fun.

“Well that is most pleasing to hear Sam, I am grateful that your Gaffer has much wisdom when it comes to such things,” Bilbo said.  “I am sure that Frodo will be just as happy to hear the news as well.”

It was only now that Bilbo mentioned his name that the three younger hobbits, noticed Frodo was no longer sitting on the settee.   He gave a secret wink towards Gandalf and Strider before continuing his performance.

“Where is Mr Frodo?” Sam asked, thinking that maybe his master had gone to change for dinner or lay down in his room before supper.

“I sent him down to the cellar to get some ingredients for my dessert.  I must say I sent him just after you left, he has been gone a few minutes longer than I would have expected of him.   Merry and Pippin, would you two go down and see what’s keeping him.  Sam I could use your expertise in telling me if this stew is salted enough if you didn’t mind,” Bilbo said, using a ploy to ensure that it wasn’t Sam that went looking for Frodo first.

“Sure Bilbo,” Merry said enthusiastically as he urged Pippin to follow him.    He gulped a little at the darkness of the room, even from the top of the stairs and was grateful that he was not about to proceed down there alone.

Strider secretly laughed at the two hobbits paused on the stairs and noted that their fear of the dark only played further into Frodo’s plan.   At first Sam had been a little irked that it was the two cousins that were asked to fetch his master, but didn’t want to upset Bilbo over helping him assess the readiness of the stew.   It seemed a little odd at first, Sam knowing of Bilbo’s ability to cook up any number of delicious dishes but he didn’t question it all the same.

But upon seeing Strider’s grin and the looks exchanged between Master Bilbo and the wizard, knew that the disappearance had been staged.  He waited along with the adults to see what would soon transpire.

Frodo could now hear footsteps descending down into the cellar and shrouded himself further into the folds of the Ranger’s cloak.  When he had come down to the cellar, he had quickly climbed into the almost empty apple barrel.  The effort had made him wince a few times from the muscles in his chest pulling, and he was glad that nobody else had been about to hear his sharp intake of breath.

Once the ache had all but disappeared again, he sat on the bottom of the wooden barrel, with his knees drawn up towards his chest.  He then proceeded to drape the long cloak over his shoulders and fasten it with the fine brooch in front.

The last thing was to set the hood over his head, shielding most of his face as he went.   He didn’t have a mirror to go by, but used his hands to brush some of his dark curls wards the edges of his face for even more effect.

Now all he had to do was wait until Merry and Pippin got too curious for their own good.

Frodo didn’t have to wait long.  He heard the footsteps descend and then heard whispered voices as Merry and Pippin walked together across the floor, neither willing to admit that he was afraid of the dark and determined not to let go of each other in case they lost each other in the darkness.

Merry and Pippin could see the barrels of wine and various casks of other long life food piled up in each corner.   They couldn’t see any sign of Frodo and were beginning to feel as if something might have happened to him.

“Who goes there?” Frodo said in a very deep voice, disguising his own and trying to put a little fear into the cousins.

“Merry did you say something?” Pippin squeaked in alarm at the voice he heard.

“Don’t be daft Pip, I didn’t say anything, it must have been you or that imagination of yours,” Merry said, trying to sound brave but knowing he was just as frightened as Pippin.

“Meriadoc and Peregrin, you disturb my slumber,” Frodo said in the same voice, scarcely able to keep from laughing at the squeaks of fright he could hear coming from his two cousins.

“We didn’t mean to disturb you sir, honest, we were just sent down here to look for our cousin Frodo,” Pippin said, not realising who he was speaking to or that he was talking out loud.

“Frodo?” came the voice as though confused about the name.   “You mean that other hobbit whom I have eaten,” it continued.

“Eaten!……….” Merry said as he felt the blood drain away from his face at such a statement.

Frodo now began to rise from his seclusion in the apple barrel, looking as though he was a dark spectre rising from the floor of the cellar.

For a few seconds, Merry and Pippin could only watch in stunned horror as they watched the large, cloaked figure rise in front of them, seemingly getting larger and taller by the second.

Merry and Pippin could not see the face of the thing in front of them as it spoke to them.  It’s face was shrouded by the hooded cloak.   They were on the very edge of fear and clinging to each other as though they lives were truly in danger.

“And now I shall have you as well,” Frodo said in the voice, reaching out his hands towards the two hobbits.   Frodo now turned his face towards his cousins, the dark curls falling across his paler skin and making it appear as though there was nothing underneath the hood but the face.

Merry and Pippin shrieked in utter horror as they gazed upon the white face that was staring intently back at them.   They saw the blue eyes but their fear didn’t allow them to recognize them as anything other than piercing and cold.

Gandalf and the others had been waiting above in the kitchen, waiting to hear what Frodo was planning to do to his cousins.   They didn’t need to wait long and fought to hold back their laughter in a more composed manner as they heard the hobbits shriek and run back towards the kitchen.

Merry and Pippin came into the kitchen after climbing the stairs two at a time and fell over each other’s feet on the floor in front of the others as they tried to escape what was chasing them.

Frodo had followed the two but stood just the other side of the doorway, whilst listening to Merry and Pippin tell their versions of events.

“Merry, Pippin, are you alright?” Gandalf asked, finding it hard not to see the funny side of the prank.   He tried his best to keep up a sympathetic appearance which is more than could be said for Bilbo and Strider who hid their grins and giggles behind their hands for a moment.  “Whatever is the matter,” he asked in a mock concerned tone.

“Oh Gandalf, Bilbo, there is a big monster down in the cellar,” Pippin wailed as he fought to pull himself to his feet.

“A monster you say!  How big was this monster and what did he threaten to do?” he asked as though hanging onto their every word.

“He was small at first, we didn’t even see him until he started rising out of the floor,” Merry declared, waving his arms about and giving a grand demonstration of what they had discovered.

“He said he was going to eat us.  He said he had already eaten Frodo!” Pippin said, not realising at first how ridiculous he sounded.

“Eat Frodo you say?” Gandalf said, knowing he could not hold in his mirth much longer.  Thankfully he could see the still shrouded Frodo creeping up behind the two hobbits, ready to reveal himself.

Sam would have been most alarmed at such a statement, had he not been a little nervous at the sight of the moving cloak.

“Does this monster look anything like the one standing behind you?” Gandalf now asked casually.

Merry and Pippin froze at the wizard’s words and as soon as they saw the cloak, ran behind Strider who was still seated.   “Don’t let him get us Strider?” Merry cried out.

“Meriadoc and Peregrin, note what I am about to say well,” Frodo said in his deep voice.

The two hobbits were telling themselves not to look at the figure any more, but the more they resisted, the more they found themselves wanting to look.   Just when they thought they would scream again in fear, the figure lifted one of his cloaked arms towards his hood, throwing it back suddenly.

“BOO!” Frodo said in his own voice, his blue eyes now shining with sheer delight at having given his two cousins such a great scare.

Strider and Bilbo could not believe such a voice came from the normally, mild mannered hobbit.  The two of them now laughed and laughed at the priceless looks on the faces of Merry and Pippin.   By now Sam had relaxed upon seeing the figure was only Frodo and he too laughed heartily along with the others.

Frodo could scarcely stop himself from laughing as he looked at the stunned looks on Merry and Pippin’s faces.   The more he looked at them and remembered their shrieks and whispers down in the cellar, the harder they laughed.

By now Merry and Pippin knew that they were the butt of the joke.   They could see all laughing until they were ready to drop.  Frodo was laughing so hard his eyes were watering.

Merry expression was the first to look indignant at what they had just been put through. “I suppose you think that is very funny Frodo Baggins,” Merry asked in a demanding voice.

Pippin now wore a similar look as Merry that he had not figured out the whole thing was a gag to catch them out.   It seemed that everybody had been in on it except him and Merry.

“Actually I do,” Frodo said, straightening himself up for a second and removing the cloak from around his shoulders.  “Thank you Strider, that was most enjoyable.  Best fun I have had in a very long time,” he said still smiling broadly.

“You should have seen your faces,” Frodo said to the cousins.  “I’m coming to get you” he uttered in the deep voice again and then collapsed again into laughter at the reaction he had invoked.

“You sure got them good Mr Frodo sir,” Sam said, now as the laughter began to slow a little.  “I bet they won’t be pulling any more pranks on you in a while,” he noted with satisfaction.   He would never have thought up something as clever as that to get back at Merry and Pippin for the ink and tea.

“It was a pretty good trick,” Pippin now admitted, seeing it from Frodo’s point of view. If he hadn’t been so scared by it, he would have said it was most inventive.  He would have to remember something like that for himself for use in future.

“Never let it be said that a Baggins was out done by a Brandybuck and a Took,” Frodo now said proudly.

“That’s two Bagginses, Frodo my boy,” Bilbo pointed out as he sat down at the table with the others.  “We Bagginses have to stick together you know,” he added.

Merry and Pippin could only give Bilbo their icy looks as they did recall the old hobbit being part of the whole plan for it was he that had sent them down to the cellar in the first place.  He had known all along what was doing to happen.

“I am glad that I should not be on the receiving end of such revenge from a Baggins,” Strider commented.   “I shall have to be forever vigilant around all of you hobbits.”

“I guess we are about even at the moment Frodo,” Merry said seeing little chance to get back at his cousin until he remembered the birthday celebration the next day. A smile crept over his face as he started thinking.

For the next hour, chatter around the table soon turned to eating and Frodo would steal looks towards his two cousins on a few occasions and laugh.  Looking around the table as he did now, with so many friends and family at the one gathering, Frodo couldn’t help but think that the birthday celebrations for him and Uncle Bilbo tomorrow should be the best ever.

As promised, about 9.00pm that night, Frodo had taken the other young hobbits into his room to read to them from some of his books.    Sam had offered to help clean up the dishes, but was dragged away by Frodo, telling him that this was one night where he was to do nothing but enjoy himself.

Gandalf and the other two adults spoke around the sitting room for a time, smoking and sipping at piping hot cups of tea and reliving old memories.    Gandalf had declared that he should retire so that he could help with the many preparations that would be in order the following day.

Bilbo and Strider could hear whispered voices coming from Frodo’s room as they passed, and couldn’t resist looking in to see what was going on.    As they opened the door and looked in, their eyes smiled with a most heart-warming scene before them.

Frodo had been reading to the younger hobbits as he promised, but at some stage, Merry must have declared it his turn to read to them all.   Frodo was laying on one side of the bed, whilst Pippin and Sam were gathered beside Merry turned slightly away from Frodo, apparently unaware of anything else in the room but the story they were hearing.

“Did you young hobbits wear poor Frodo out?” Bilbo asked as he walked into the room, followed by the Ranger.

Sam and the others now turned around to see what Bilbo was talking about and were surprised to see the dark-haired hobbit, sleeping peacefully on his back, his face relaxed and trouble free.

Sam felt his cheeks redden slightly that he had not recognized any signs that he master was feeling weary.   When Merry had begun to read about a sword fight from long ago, he had been listening to closely to notice much at all.

“I am sorry Master Bilbo, I did not see how tired he was,” Sam offered in apology.

“It’s alright Sam,” Bilbo said gently as he arranged the blanket over Frodo’s slumbering form.  “I suspect you all, but Frodo most of all has had much more activity today than he is used to.    I hope he gets enough rest tonight for tomorrow.  No doubt his birthday party will be just as much fun.”

“His hand and chest must not be bothering him judging by the way he sleeps so peacefully,” Strider commented, not wanting to dwell on how his heart had skipped a beat a remembering the fall from the tree.

“Sam I will leave you in here with him tonight for I know you will not awaken him with chatter or moving about before he is ready to do so.   Merry and Pippin, if you come along with me I will see you settled in the spare bedroom down the hall,” Bilbo instructed.

“Good Night Master Bilbo and Mr Strider sir,  I will not disturb him before morning,” Sam promised and began settling himself on the other side of his friend as quietly and carefully as he could.

Merry and Pippin bid Sam goodnight and followed Strider out of Frodo’s room.

“Good night my dear boy,” Bilbo said and gently kissed the sleeping hobbit on his forehead, brushing the curls from his face with an affectionate stroke of his hand.

TO BE CONTINUED …………..

These chapters are turning out have a lot more content than I originally planned – not a bad thing – just means that there are still a few preparations to be done for the party.

One will involve Lotho and his chance to get back at Frodo before the party begins. I know it’s on his birthday, but I won’t do anything too serious.  Just a bit of Sack-ville Bagginses nastiness.

I have read so many great stories over the past few weeks in utter awe at the author’s talent that I must admit to some of them being more inspiring for my own stories. If mine could only be but a shadow of some of those great tales then I would be most happy.

I must thank Shirebound and Samantha20 and anybody else who has played any part in helping with this chapter.   I humbly thank Shirebound for the words she provided to me about Elrond’s and Arwen’s hair.   Thank you indeed – paid in mushrooms of course.

I hope I am not sounding too fluffy between Aragorn and Frodo just yet.  I need to set up the protectiveness that he feels before they leave the shire because we all know that Frodo is going to need every inch of it when they do leave.

There should be one more chapter before they do leave for Rivendell.  I hope the prank between Frodo and Merry and Pippin worked out as I imagined.

There is also a reason for Frodo liking to climb trees that will come to light much much later in the storyline – probably won’t come back to much important until A THOUSAND EYES in Moria.

Anything that I have written in error – please forgive me – it was the power of the ring blinding me as I wrote.  If you have any thing you would like to see please let me know, I will try and accommodate where possible, if not this story – the ones to come in the series.

Enough talk – let me know if you like or not.

JULES

Chapter Three – Gandalf’s Arrival

“Who does Frodo seek at such a pace?” Strider asked as he and Sam did their best to catch up with the much quicker hobbit.

“I don’t rightly know for sure, but I be thinking that it might be somebody coming along the road in a wagon,” Sam said, trying to talk and keep up with the Ranger’s longer strides at the same time.

“For one small, your master is swift on his feet,” Strider commented.

The Ranger and Samwise lost sight of Frodo for a short time as the terrain dipped into a grass covered gully.  The grass was very tall and often reached high enough to tickle Sam’s nose.  The fragrance was sweet though and the day was beginning to warm gently.

As Strider and his hobbit companion came out of the dip, they ascended a small grass covered hill where they saw Frodo standing.  The grass on this embankment was an emerald shade of green and a little shorter than they had just run through.

Frodo stood beside the roadway, still listening for the approaching wagon.  He could  now hear distinct singing coming from the man driving the wagon.    The language used would be indecipherable to most of the Shire, even Frodo himself could not translate every verse he heard.

Strider and Sam were now standing only a short distance away from Frodo but did not disturb him.   The Ranger could now see the wagon and its driver.   The man was dressed in a long gray cloak that fell in deep folds about his body.  His hands were visible beneath the long sleeves guiding the horse as they went.

The man’s face was one of somebody who had seen much in his lifetime but had become stronger because of it.   The lines on his face were softened by his kind eyes and  gentle outer appearance.  The man’s beard was a multitude of gray and white tones that were scarcely distinguishable from each other but blended together to match the man’s long hair.

The man wore a large pointy hat that was made of the same fabric as his cloak and shimmered slightly in the dappled sunlight.

Frodo still had the smile on his face as he watched the wagon grow nearer.  He now tried to change his facial expression and stood in an almost demanding pose.  His  arms were folded in front of him as if waiting for an explanation and there was an expectant look about him.

“You are late!” Frodo accused.  The man was now pulling the wagon to a halt, still avoiding eye contact with the young hobbit.

“A wizard is never late Frodo Baggins………. nor is he early.  He arrives precisely when he means to.” came the quick reply.

Sam seemed to be holding his breath at the moment as he watched his master and the wizard.   Both of them were now intently staring at each other, neither one willing to give in first.

Strider found it most interesting that the young hobbit could show an almost defiant attitude upon will.   When he had met the lad earlier he would have been mistaken to think the same thing back then.

The wizard found the corners of his mouth twitching first into a vague smile. He efforts to make Frodo waver first were mostly in vain, though it seemed now for long.

Both wizard and hobbit now gave each other a genuine smile of friendship before laughing heartily at each others stubbornness.   Sam silently released the breath he had been holding and couldn’t help but have a grin of his own to see such pleasure on his masters face.

It’s wonderful to see you again Gandalf,” Frodo now exclaimed.

Before Sam could prevent it, with one leap, Frodo threw himself towards the wizard.    Gandalf had no trouble catching the hobbit with his free hand, the other still holding onto the horse’s reins.   The wizard now cast the leather straps to one side and returned Frodo’s show of affection with enthusiasm.  Both of them were enwrapped in an embrace: for the briefest of moments neither wanted to let go.

“And you too Frodo my dear lad,” the wizard replied as he pulled away slightly from the hobbit and tried to look at how much he had changed since last they had spoken to each other.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to be here until after Uncle Bilbo’s birthday party,” Frodo said.  The hobbit now sat on the bench beside Gandalf ready to travel together to Bag End.

Until now, Sam and Strider had remained in silence, not wanting to disturb the rekindling of friendship.   Frodo looked and was some what surprised to see the two standing there.  He had not noticed them before now.   His brow wrinkled slightly as he tried to ask himself how Sam had come to find him.

Frodo could see a smile on each of their faces and he knew that they had taken quiet, reserved pleasure in seeing him happy.

“Have you two been following me?” he now asked, directing his question more at Sam than the Ranger.  Frodo knew that Sam would not be able to look him in the eye and give him a false answer.  There was an honesty about Samwise that Frodo had come to know a long time ago and trusted until this very minute.

“Sam was merely giving me a tour of your Shire Frodo,” Ranger said, seeing the conflicting emotions within the hobbit that stood beside him.  “We have seen many things this morning.  Our paths cross again by chance and no other reason.”

“Rangers I have been told Mr Strider are very resourceful people when they want to,” Gandalf said addressing the big person.  “You are no exception to that rule and I suspect you have other motives for allowing our paths cross as you say.”

“I am humbled by your knowledge Gandalf the Grey,” Strider replied, a smile in his eyes as he bowed towards the wizard.

“You two know each other Gandalf?” Frodo asked, seeing the same question on Sam’s face.  Up until just now, they had no indication that the wizard and the Ranger had come across each other before.

“I have traveled many places in my time Frodo and so has Mr Strider.  While I have not known him as long as your dear Uncle Bilbo, his friendship has always been most welcomed.  It is truly a surprise to see him here now I must say.” the wizard added, but the look on Gandalf’s face towards the Ranger said otherwise.

“Begging your pardon Mr Frodo sir, but are you planning to travel back to Bag End in that wagon with Mr Gandalf,” Sam asked nervously.  He didn’t quite know how to come out and tell his master how uneasy the man made him feel at times.

Sam had come to know of Gandalf on his visits to Bilbo and Frodo.  The man had always seemed to have an air of mystery about him that the gardener could never explain in plain words.

“Would it be alright for Strider and Sam to travel back with us in your wagon Gandalf?” Frodo asked.

“Yes of course it would be alright, though I think Strider might find it a bit cramped for room with his longer legs,” Gandalf pointed out.

“Your horse travels at a very slow pace Gandalf.  Sam would probably benefit from the vehicle rather than I,” the Ranger said.  Strider now helped Samwise into the back of the wagon.

Sam worked his way to the front of the wagon, careful not to trod on any of the crates or other cargo that seemed to cover the entire floor.  There were a great many long poles poking out from underneath sheets of canvas.   All of the strange looking shaped items only seemed to make the hobbit more uneasy towards the wizard.

Despite Strider’s comments, Gandalf kept the horse’s gait at a sluggish rate so that the Ranger would not have to keep to a faster pace.   From where Sam stood in the wagon he was directly behind his master Frodo, just where he preferred it.  At least he could keep a good eye on him from where he was positioned.

“You didn’t really think I would miss your Uncle Bilbo’s birthday party did you Frodo?” Gandalf asked, keeping the topic of conversation casual.

So how is the old rascal Bilbo.   I hear the party its going to be a party of special magnificence.”

“You know Bilbo…. he’s got the whole place in an uproar.  Half of the Shire has been invited.” Frodo informed Gandalf.

“Don’t be forgetting Mr Gandalf Sir that it is Mr Frodo’s birthday party too,” Sam said proudly.    He knew that most of the gossip about the Shire folk had been about how old Mr Bilbo was going to turn.   Sam was determined to make sure that Frodo’s special day was not forgotten in all of the chaos and atmosphere.

“True Samwise, I had not forgotten our young Frodo’s birthday.  A special day indeed, coming of age at last,” Gandalf said, giving Frodo’s shoulder a light pat.

“With all that has been happening lately, I wish it would just come and go without any fuss,” Frodo said openly.   “Uncle Bilbo has had nothing but visitors for the past two weeks after he sent out invitations.   Some of them are telling him of coming to the party.  Others are those folk who were either deliberately or mistakenly forgotten of the guest list.”

“I take it then that Bag End has not been quiet of late,” Gandalf commented, puffing away with his long pipe as they traveled.

“Uncle Bilbo is getting more fidgety by the day.   Most of them have been decent enough to come at a suitable hour to utter their congratulations.   Then there are those directly involved with the preparations and cooking, telling Uncle what dishes he should be serving and what not to have.  But others who are a little upset at their being left out that they have little regard and often interrupt Bilbo’s writing or studying,” Frodo informed the wizard.

Although Gandalf grinned slightly at the image formed in his mind of how Bilbo would be reacting to his quiet time being disturbed, he could see that Frodo cared enough for the old hobbit that he too would be a little stressed about the party preparations.

Strider remained silent during the trip to Bag End although Frodo had not tried to put any other meaning into his words, the Ranger couldn’t help but think that he had only recently become one of those uninvited guests that turned up at odd hours.

“I hope your Uncle will invite me in once we arrive there.”

“Oh you don’t have to worry about that Gandalf, Uncle Bilbo has been looking forward to you coming for weeks now.    What he needs to worry about later on today is the arrival of my younger cousins, Merry and Pippin.   Uncle has agreed to let them stay with me at Bag End until after the party.”

“The appearance of those two should certainly be eventful,” Gandalf said.  He had met Frodo’s cousins many times before, but because of their age and immaturity, together they had a tendency to cause trouble whether they were to blame or not.   They usually took to playing practical jokes on unsuspecting folk which would backfire and only leave a mess to clean up or an explanation to be forthcoming.

“I am looking forward to them coming,” Frodo said as he thought about his cousins.  He knew what the wizard was terming as “eventful” but nevertheless at least they would someone familiar to him at the party.  Frodo was a little nervous about the sheer number of relations that Bilbo had invited that he had never met before.

“Let’s talk about something else Gandalf,” Frodo suggested.  “I want to get away from all this chatter about parties and birthdays.  It gives me a headache at times just thinking about what has to be done today and tomorrow.”

Sam now looked intently at his master, to see any signs of the headache that Frodo spoke about.    He promised himself that he would make sure that Mr Frodo was relaxed a little by tomorrow.

“What news have you from the outside world?” Frodo asked with anticipation clearly in his words.   The young hobbit was happy with his life in the Shire but often wondered what other places and peoples he would meet if he traveled outside it’s boundaries.

Whilst Sam had noted on a number of occasions his desire to stay in the Shire for what he perceived the foreseeable future, Frodo could not deny that often he had dreams about leaving for a time in search of a purpose in life.

“What do you wish to hear about Frodo?”

“Tell me everything!” Frodo stated matter of factly.

“Everything…….. you become too curious for your own good my boy.  It is an unnatural trait for a hobbit such as yourself be so eager to know,” Gandalf said with a light-hearted chuckle.   The wizard had always known Frodo to convey a thirst for knowledge and learning.  He would promote such a fine characteristic in one so eager, not thwart it for the sake of what others considered unusual or strange.

“What can I tell you my young friend, is that life in the wide world goes on much as it has this past age, full of its own comings and goings, scarcely aware of the existence of hobbits, for which I am very thankful.”

 Gandalf couldn’t how thankful he was that it was the case.   In the past couple of weeks he had become increasingly concerned with matters that were beginning to appear that were best left alone and untouched.  The appearance of the Ranger here today in the Shire only seemed to add to his concern that such matters would not remain hidden for very much longer.

Frodo now looked back towards Sam and smiled at his friend.  His eyes drifted towards the large amount of stuff that was laying in the wagon.  Curiosity got the better of him as well, but he was confident enough to voice this to the wizard.

“What are you planning to do with all that you have brought Gandalf?” Frodo enquired.

“Nothing to worry about Frodo, just a little entertainment for the Shire folk as I promised your Uncle Bilbo.” Gandalf said, giving the hobbit a sly wink.

“Why do I get the feeling that Merry and Pippin are not the only ones to be planning something?  Seeing as you and Uncle Bilbo have been down that path before Gandalf,” Frodo said with a grin.

“Before your last “little bit of entertainment” Uncle Bilbo and I were very well thought of in the Shire,” Frodo said, knowing that such a statement wasn’t entirely true.  “We Bagginses never had any adventures or did anything unexpected.”

Unfortunately for Frodo, being heir to Bilbo Baggins left him with not only the older hobbit’s possessions, but also his labels of stranger and unusual even before the Shire folk had gotten a chance to meet him and make a judgment themselves.

Shire folk were inclined to talk amongst themselves about matters that didn’t concern them or they had very little information about.   The appearance of strangers like Gandalf to Bag End over the years had continued to fuel the gossip and only confirmed to the folk what they had been told by others.

“If you are referring to the incident with the Dragon, I was barely involved.  All I did was give your uncle a little nudge……….” Gandalf explained, not wanting to go back into the sordid details of that most memorable of visits.

“And as for adventures my dear boy, your Uncle Bilbo might have led a quieter existence for the best part of forty years, but there was a time when that hobbit could never stay in one place for his feet to take root,” Gandalf said.

Whatever you did, you have been officially labeled a disturber of the peace.” Frodo said, trying his hardest to keep a straight and serious face, but soon failing and giving a little grin at the memory.

Frodo thought for a few seconds, not really confident about how to approach the next topic of conversation.

“I think Bilbo is up to something as well,” Frodo said, the words being more of a question to the wizard rather than a statement.

The hobbit knew that his Uncle and Gandalf had spoken often and in great detail about the comings and goings of each other.  Maybe Frodo couldn’t talk to Bilbo about what he had over heard the night before with Strider, but he might be able to gain some clues as to the truth through Gandalf.

Strider listened to Frodo’s words with interest.   He could hear an almost suspicious nature from the young hobbit.  For not only the first or second time today, the Ranger found himself wondering about what thoughts

Really?”Gandalf replied in mock surprise.   It was obvious to the wizard that Frodo knew much more about his Uncle than Bilbo realized.  He would have to have a quiet word to his old friend before the party began tomorrow.

Keep your secrets then.” Frodo answered, a little disappointment in his voice that Gandalf was unwilling to shed any light on the subject.

“I will see you back at Bag End soon,” Frodo said now as he readied himself to get down from the wagon and continue on his own way.   “I will meet you and Sam back at Bag End before lunch,” he added, trying to hide the weight that his thoughts were putting upon his heart.

“But Mr Frodo you can’t…… “ Sam wanted to protest.

To his dismay though his master was already heading through the trees on the other side.  From where he stood in the wagon, he was unable to get down quickly enough to join Frodo.

“I think Frodo would rather think on his own for a while Sam,” Gandalf said, placing a reassuring hand on the hobbit’s shoulder, urging him to remain in the wagon until they reached Bilbo’s home.

He is going to have to tell him………,” Gandalf said to himself, audible enough for Sam and Strider to overhear.

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

Frodo had walked away from Gandalf’s wagon, but as soon as he was out of sight, the hobbit found himself running through the long grass and the trees.   He felt slightly cross with himself for leaving so abruptly and silently berated himself for doing so, hoping that the wizard would understand and Sam wouldn’t be too upset.

His thoughts about the conversation he had overheard the night before between the Ranger Strider and his Uncle had re-ignite his fears about Bilbo leaving Bag End and the Shire.

The sudden reappearance of Gandalf to the area only made Frodo more unsettled about what the next few days would bring.  Maybe Bilbo planned to leave after his birthday with the wizard.

Frodo could scarcely bare the ache in his heart if his Uncle did leave.  Tears had begun welling in his eyes about being left alone once more.  Although it had been some years since his parents had left him, the feeling of abandonment didn’t take long to renew the seed of doubt in his mind.

Running allowed the tears to fall without being noticed by anybody else.  There was a  sense of freedom that couldn’t be ignored.  Before he even realized it, Frodo had run the better of half a mile.     He came to a halt and forced himself to take slow deep breaths in order to try and quell both the negative feelings he was experiencing as well as the exertion that fast running had placed upon his body.

Frodo waited until he felt calm enough again and more composed.   Putting away the fears that had resurfaced, he started to make his way back towards Bag End.  If he delayed his return any longer, Sam would surely worry unnecessarily and come looking.

back at Bag End……………….

Gandalf, Strider and Sam were now arriving at Bag End.    Sam got down from the wagon and offered to help unhitch the horse and put both the horse and wagon away safely until they were needed further.

While Sam went about these tasks, Strider and Gandalf approached the gateway to Bilbo’s home.   The wizard observed the signage on the gate that Strider had seen the night before and chuckled to himself that the old hobbit’s personality seemed unchanged despite his age.

Gandalf now proceeded to knock on the door using the bottom end of the staff he carried with him.

“No thank you………. we don’t want any more visitors, well-wishers or distant relations,” came a voice from inside.  The wizard chuckled slightly as he heard the statement, assuming that Bilbo was speaking on Frodo’s behalf a little when he mentioned “we”.

“What about very old friends?” Gandalf now said through the closed door.

There was a distinct silence for a few seconds before the rounded doorway slowly opened.   Bilbo walked forward to see that the sun wasn’t deceiving his eyes.

Gandalf?” the old hobbit said, scarcely able to believe who he saw standing before him.

Until today there had been the smallest notion that the wizard would have more prevailing matters to attend to than a birthday party, even one celebrating one hundred and eleven years.

“Bilbo Baggins…………….” Gandalf said as he greeted his long-time friend with an embrace.  “You haven’t aged a day……….. he added, noting that the hobbit carried his years excessively better than others.   The old hobbit’s eyes had a gentle and kind appearance about them and his genuine smile shone through at meeting his old friend once more.

“Oh I see you have met up with Strider,” Bilbo said as he saw the Ranger standing nearby.  Bilbo now looked around for any sign of the younger companions that had journeyed out earlier that morning.

“Where is Frodo and Sam?” Bilbo enquired.

“Frodo and I have already spoken.  I must say that he has matured much since I had the pleasure of talking to him.   He informed me that he would be along shortly.  Sam has kindly offered to attend to my wagon and horse to aid a weary traveler.” Gandalf explained.

“Come in come in………. where are my manners.  Welcome, welcome.   Can I offer you some tea Gandalf, or something a little stronger?” Bilbo asked.  “Would you join us as well Strider, it is almost time for elevensies.”

Tea thank you,” Gandalf said as he ducked his head and entered the smial.

The Ranger noted that the wizard had to show just as much caution as he when walking through the lower ceilings.  He had already avoided a few nasty knocks to the head by mere fractions of an inch and quick reflexes.

“I would prefer tea as well Bilbo,” Strider said, answering the hobbit’s question.

I’ve got a few bottles of the Old Winyards left…………. 1296, a very good year.  Almost as old as I am.  It was laid down by my father.” Bilbo said as his two guests disappeared from sight temporarily as they took a different route to the kitchen.

“Just tea thank you” Gandalf repeated as he and the Ranger sat down and waited patiently as Bilbo bustled about his kitchen, pouring hot water from a pot into the teapot position on the table.

Gandalf noted that due to the fact that Frodo and his companion Sam had yet to return, now might be a good time to approach the subject about Bilbo’s intention to leave the Shire.   It had caused him a much concern to see the flickering emotions on Frodo’s face just a short time ago.

Before Gandalf had a chance to mention any concerns, there was another loud knock at the door.   Bilbo up until then had been standing near a window, but upon hearing the knock at the front door, shrunk back into the shadows that the walls provided,  hoping that he wouldn’t be spotted.

“I am not at home” Bilbo said out loud, forgetting that he had just alerted to person outside that he was indeed at home.

“I have got to get away from these confounded relatives.  Hanging on the bell all day, never giving me a moment’s peace.” once again confirming some of the comments  Frodo had mentioned earlier about the steady stream of unwanted visitors to Bag End recently.

The tea was now poured and Strider and the wizard remained silent as they watched the old hobbit move back and forth from the window, almost nervous as he spoke.  Bilbo knew that this was the conversation that he had meant to continue with the Ranger from the previous night, as so continued.

“I want to see mountains again……… mountains Gandalf!    And then find somewhere quiet where I can finish my book.” Bilbo said, now ceasing his pacing back and forth and forcing himself to remain still by sitting on a chair at the table and facing the truth he had been trying to avoid for some time.

“So you mean to go through with your plans then?” the wizard asked cautiously, not wanting to put words into the hobbit’s mouth if he had not yet come to such a decision.

“Yes yes, it’s all in hand.   All of the arrangements have been made.  I was only telling Strider the same thing only late last night.” Bilbo replied, but there was a air of uncertainty in his voice and an air of sadness as he came to realization of what he had decided to do.

Frodo suspects something………..” Gandalf said, trying to put the subject as delicately as possible to his friend.

“He does?” Bilbo responded, already suspecting such to be the case.  “Yes I suppose he might think something is going on the way I have been acting lately.  He probably feels like I have been trying to avoid him.”

“You will tell him soon won’t you………. before it’s too late,” Gandalf said, hoping the hobbit understood how urgent it was becoming.

“Yes …….. I will,” Bilbo said, pausing a little as he answered.  “How do I do that Gandalf, without hurting him?  Frodo has got such a gentle nature about him.  Kindest lad I have ever come across.  What will it do to him to learn that I am leaving?”

“It would hurt him more for you to leave without telling him first Bilbo,” Gandalf said, seeing the emotions play out across the hobbit’s face like a clearly visible stain. “He is very fond of you.”

“As I am of him Gandalf, as I am.   I cannot put into words what that lad has come to mean to me over the years.   For years and years all I did was sit here in my study writing about my travels, without anybody to share them with other than my ink and paper.”

“He would probably come with me if I asked him.”

“Do you think that is what Frodo wants to do with his life?” Gandalf asked, genuinely interested in Frodo’s future well being.

“I think, in his heart, Frodo is still in love with the Shire, the woods, the fields, little rivers………..” Bilbo replied.

“I have no right to do that to Frodo Gandalf.   The lad came here with only uncertainty after his parents death.   Living here at Bag End, I tried to change all that by trying to give him all the love, understanding and patience I could find.  I wanted to give him all the love that his parents would have shed upon him as well as my own.”

“Frodo is older now and more confident in his own self.  He has friends that think the world of him, especially Samwise.   He now has familiarity and firm connections with the Shire and those in it.  I wouldn’t feel right asking him to give all of that up just for me and my wandering ways.  It wouldn’t be fair to Frodo.”

“I am old Gandalf.   I know you think I don’t look it but I am beginning to feel it in my heart.” Bilbo said feeling a little daunted by his own admission.

“I need a holiday, a very long holiday.  I don’t expect I shall return, in fact I mean not to……………” Bilbo said a sense of finality about the trip he was preparing to take.

The conversation did not continue much further as the three of them pondered on all that had been said.   Both Strider and Gandalf couldn’t help but think of what mixed emotions Frodo might experience over the next couple of days.

Samwise had just been making his way back from finishing stabling the horse and putting away the wagon until the next day, when he saw Frodo approaching from the opposite direction.

To his surprise, Frodo looked as though he had been running.  His master sounded a little out of breath and looked a little tired.  “Hello Mr Frodo, are you alright?”

“Yes Sam, thank you.” Frodo said as he forced his breathing to be deeper and slower.  The brisk run had been invigorating and helped him over come some of the fears he held about his uncle’s possible departure.    “I was running through the trees,” he admitted to his friend, who looked a little worried about him.

“Let’s go inside and get something to drink and eat then, Mr Frodo,” Sam suggested, a little perplexed as to why his master would be running in the first place.   Sam knew that Frodo enjoyed daily walks and exercise but he couldn’t see a purpose to making himself out of breath unless there was a reason to.

Frodo and Sam opened the door and walked inside to the kitchen where Gandalf and the others were still drinking their tea.

“We are back Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo said.

“Did you enjoy the weather outside Frodo my dear boy?” Bilbo asked, trying to push aside any of his earlier thoughts.

“Yes uncle, but I feel as though I might have spent too much time out there this day,” Frodo admitted, putting his hand to his temple and rubbing slightly at a headache that was beginning to form.

“Why is that Frodo?” Bilbo asked, noting his nephew’s actions.

“I did a lot of running back to here just now and I have a headache beginning.   Maybe that or it is from too much sunshine overhead whilst I was reading earlier,” Frodo now stated.

“Well running is good for you, but I hope you have not over done things.  Why don’t you go and sit on the comfortable settee and I will bring your cup of tea when I have made a fresh pot.  Sam can help me and I will put a few leaves in it to help ease your headache,” Bilbo said gently, putting a hand on the lad’s shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

“If is alright with you Uncle, I might have the tea in my room whilst I do some quiet study.   I really think it was the running and not the reading that is the cause of the problem.   It might help relax me along with the tea and go away,” Frodo said.

“Alright Frodo, let me know if you need anything else.  Once I have finished with this tea, Sam and I can start on luncheon.   Your cousins are due to arrive very shortly and the first thing they will be looking for apart from you is food,” Bilbo said.

“Let me know when Merry and Pippin arrive will you please Sam.  Please excuse me Gandalf and Mr Strider,” Frodo said as he turned towards his room and a little quiet time.

“Of course Mr Frodo,” Sam answered immediately, only to happy to help out as requested.

Strider and Gandalf both responded to the boy’s beautiful manners and hoped that his headache would not last too long.   There was something about the lad that just made others warm up to him immediately and his honesty and sincerity were charms that he certainly possessed in abundance.

“You can take his tea in to him in a minute Sam,” Bilbo said to the younger hobbit, seeing the frown of his face.  Sam was being pulled in opposite directions at the moment, wanting to be with his master when he wasn’t feeling one hundred percent and the other direction because of his respect of Frodo’s privacy and need for solitude when studying.

Studying was something that Bilbo had never had to press on the lad, even from the very beginning.   Frodo seemed to drink up every book that the older hobbit had in his library and had a thirst for knowledge to match.  Bilbo had taught Frodo to speak a limited amount of Elvish language and how to form the various symbol representations in writings and songs.

Once Frodo had a grasp of the subject material, he had taken it upon himself to further his own education through self-teaching methods.   The lad preferred to do this alone for varying amounts of time, some days for hours on end, on other days, all but a few minutes before going to sleep at night to help him relax after a long day outside.

After a few minutes, Bilbo announced that Frodo’s tea was ready and Sam was more than willing to take it to his master if only to use it as an alibi to see if he still suffered from the headache.

Sam knocked respectfully on the door before hearing a quiet “Come In” from the other side and entering Frodo’s bedroom.

Frodo was seated at his study desk, with a large book open in front of him and another standing up leaning against the window.  He seemed to be practicing his writing skills and master the fine strokes needed to form the letters and symbols.

Sam put his master’s cup of tea down close enough for him to reach but far enough away to prevent it accidentally spilling on Frodo’s hard work.    Sam couldn’t help but watch his master write with a slight twinge of envy.   Frodo’s small hand made his grip on the quill quite tight to allow more control.  The strokes were small but accurate and the page itself was very neat indeed.

Frodo now looked up from his work briefly and smiled at his friend, then reaching for the tea with his still bandaged hand.

“You have beautiful writing if you don’t mind me saying so Mr Frodo,” Sam said honestly.  “My fingers could never hold still long enough without smudging what I have already done,” he added, thinking back to past efforts when Frodo had been more than willing to be Sam’s tutor.

“Thank you Sam, although I am grateful that my writing hand wasn’t the one that was scalded by the hot water or I fear that I would not be able to write at all today.”

“Does your headache still give you pain Mr Frodo?” Sam found himself asking.

“Actually Sam, it has eased considerably even after only such a brief time.   Maybe it is the tea that is helping me relax after all.”

“Would you like something to eat, luncheon should be ready very shortly?” Sam asked, hoping Frodo would accept.

Frodo could see the hopefulness in Sam’s eyes that he would agree to something to eat.   He found himself not being able to refuse the offer.  “I am getting a little hungry Sam, lunch would be nice as soon as it’s ready.”

Sam smiled broadly and went off to make sure that everything was just right for his master.   Frodo watched his friend leave and then turned back to his books for a little while longer.  He doubted that he would have much time tomorrow or the day after to indulge in such personal escapes.

Strider and Gandalf engaged in quiet, non-committal conversation as Bilbo and Sam went about preparing lunch for all.

Just before it was ready, there was a knock at the door, which Bilbo went to answer, muttering as he went, hoping it was not yet another visitor.

When he opened the door, he was somewhat delighted and relieved at who was present.  He was met by the smiling faces of Meriadoc and Peregrin, bursting full of energy and barely able to keep still even as they waited to be invited in.

“Merry and Pippin, my dear lads, how are you and won’t you come in,” Bilbo said allowing them entry to Bag End.  The two hobbits had a small suitcase each as they entered, taking in the sights and smells of Bilbo’s home.

Sam came forth and greeted Mr Frodo’s cousins.  “How was your trip masters?  I will see to your bags and put them in the guest rooms,” he said, remembering duty had to come before enjoying their company.

“Hello Sam, we are fine thanks and hello to you too Uncle,” Merry said in a loud voice, speaking for his younger cousin Pippin as well.

“Lunch is almost ready, you can join us in a minute,” Bilbo said, already noting the delight that came to the youngest cousin’s face at such a statement.  It was no secret that Peregrin was always hungry and ready to eat, no matter how long ago the last meal had been.  There was always room for more Pippin had told his Uncle once.

“Where is Frodo?” Merry now asked, eager to see his older cousin again as he looked about the rooms for any sign of the dark-haired hobbit.

“He’s in his room studying a little before lunch.  He said he had a slight headache and wished to relax a little before you arrived,” Bilbo said, hoping that would be enough of a deterrent for the two younger cousins to wait patiently until Frodo appeared on his own accord.

Merry and Pippin weren’t to be discouraged though, and both looked at each other and grinned devilishly that they knew of an alternative way to get Frodo’s attention without going to knock on his bedroom door.

“Come on Pip,” Merry said as the two left Sam holding their luggage and dashing back out the front door and around the side of the smial.

“They won’t do anything too terrible to Mr Frodo will they Master Bilbo?” Sam asked, a little worried about the two cousins who always seemed to have too much energy for their own good.   They were always up to something.

“I shouldn’t think so Sam,” Bilbo said, putting a reassuring hand on the lad’s shoulder.  “Frodo has been looking forward to them coming.  He will put them straight if they look like getting out of control,” he added, knowing that Frodo often took on responsibility for his younger cousins whenever they visited.

In the past such loyalty had often landed Frodo in as much trouble as Merry and Pippin, but the happiness and laughter that the two cousins brought to Frodo couldn’t be replaced and Bilbo was often most grateful for that.

“Studying!” Merry said as he and Pippin moved around the side of the dwelling.  Sometimes Frodo was too studious for his own good.  Time to break that habit and get his cousin having some fun again.

Merry and Pippin could now see the window that belonged to Frodo’s bedroom. They could see a book of some description leaning up the bottom half of the glass and the older cousin immediately had a giggle of an idea about how to alert Frodo to his presence.  No doubt they would scare him senseless, but they would have fun nevertheless.

Merry motioned for Pippin to sneak up beside the window frame like he and peer secretly through the glass.   Both of them could see Frodo’s dark head bent forward as he continued what he was doing.

It took a few more minutes than Merry would have liked, but eventually they were rewarded with Frodo’s casual glance towards his book and spotting two faces leering back at him through the glass.

Frodo had been concentrating on the book but was startled by the faces at his window and tried to jump backwards away from the window.  Unfortunately for Frodo, his chair was still behind him and now both he and the chair fell backwards, knocking the cup of tea from the desk as well as the ink pot.   It wasn’t until after this that he recognized who the faces belonged to.

“Merry and Pippin!” Frodo said in a mock annoyed voice as he surveyed the image of himself sprawled on the floor and the congealing mess not to far away on the rug of the ink and tea mixing together.

The two cousins had seen Frodo tumble backwards but knew he wasn’t hurt.  They now made their way back around to the front door, hoping that neither Bilbo or Frodo would be too upset at their antics.

Sam had overheard his master’s startled cry as he fell backwards and couldn’t help but open the door to see if everything was alright.  He immediately went to Frodo’s aid of helping him stand, he too concerned about the now black stain marring the rug.

“Are you alright Mr Frodo?” Sam said, seeing that the bandage on Frodo’s hand had also been stained by the ink.  Looking upon his master’s clothes, they hadn’t faired much better and there was now a soaking blackened mark across the front of Frodo’s vest and trousers.

“Yeah I am fine thank you Sam,” Frodo said, trying hard not to laugh at how he must look at the moment.   “Those two cousins of mine…….” he said, a smile creeping across his face.

“Frodo,” Merry said in a quiet voice behind Sam, the two cousins standing just outside the doorway, hoping to apologize for their behaviour.

“Just look at this mess you too created,” Frodo said sternly, the corners of his mouth twitching with a grin.   Sam was sighing in relief that Frodo’s writing had not been spoilt by the ink.   It seemed that the floor and Frodo himself wore most of what was spilt.

“We will clean it up cousin, promise,” Pippin now said, feeling a little guilty as he looked at the spreading stain on Frodo’s clothes.

“Offering to do manual work now are you Pip, that’s certainly good to hear.  Though I don’t think you sound like my cousin Peregrin Took,” Frodo said already seeing that they were remorseful for their childish actions.

“It’s great to see you Merry and Pip,” Frodo now said and gave his cousins a warm greeting.   “I really wanted that cup of tea though,” he poked in fun.

“I’ll get you another cup Mr Frodo,” Sam offered.

“That’s alright Sam, just let me get into some clean clothes and clear a bit of this mess on the floor and then we can go and see if lunch is ready,” knowing that Pip wouldn’t be needing a second invitation.

“I will get a little sugar from Master Bilbo to sprinkle over that stain.  The sugar crystals should soak up most of the ink and then it can just be swept into a pile and thrown away,” Sam said, explaining a little about what his mother had taught him about how to remove difficult stains from things.

“What about my clothes Sam, you don’t expect to sprinkle sugar over me to get the ink out do you?” Frodo said with a laugh.

“Oh no sir,” Sam said returning the grin to his master as such an idea.  “But I can put it into a bucket of water laced with lemon and vinegar and that will certainly have your clothes looking nice again.”

“Dear Sam, you always have a solution for me when I am in need,” Frodo said.

“I hope so Mr Frodo,” Sam said proudly that his master thought so highly of him.

Half an hour after Merry and Pippin announced their arrival to Frodo and everyone else, all were seated at the table now enjoying a leisurely lunch and gentle conversation.

Introductions had been made of Strider, though Merry seemed to be a little wary of the Ranger at first.   Pip had been awed by the man’s height but gave a small smile and made sure that he sat safely on the other side of his cousin Frodo.

Sam had been about to excuse himself when Frodo asked that he stay and join them.  Bilbo had also voiced that he wished for Samwise to join them at the table as had  the two cousins.   Sam felt himself out numbered and although he had been taught to mind his betters and remember his place, he had also been taught to be there as often as Frodo wanted him to be.

Sam couldn’t put into words how good he felt when Mr Frodo treated him no differently to other adults around him or indeed his own relatives such as Merry and Pippin.

Strider had not wanted to add to any fear that the two cousins might have over his presence but marveled at how quickly the two seemed to forget their apprehensions and include him in their conversations around the table.

Pippin had gone into great detail about the scare that he and Merry had given Frodo a short time before and how Frodo had fallen off his chair and been smeared in ink and warm tea.

After hearing about this, Gandalf promised himself that he would need to keep a closer eye on the two mischief’s and keep them out of trouble as much as possible before the party.

“You should have seen your face Frodo,” Pippin said with a giggle, remembering the startled look his older cousin had moments before toppling backwards.

“Don’t worry Pippin, my revenge will be swift and silent but most of all unexpected,” Frodo said in a voice so low that the younger hobbit believed every word.   He couldn’t help but bait them a little and keep them guessing about what he might do to get back at them.

“You wouldn’t……..” Pippin said in shock.  In all the time he had known Frodo, he had never seen his dark-haired cousin retaliate for any of the mischief that they had caused.  “He wouldn’t do anything would he Merry?” he now asked, seeking a little confirmation from his partner in crime.

Merry too was a little surprised at Frodo’s statement, and both had an ominous feeling as they watched their secretive cousin smile sweetly back at them.  They would have thought Frodo’s comments to be baseless except for the gleam that they saw in his blue eyes.

Strider and Gandalf laughed at the sight of the two now uneasy and nervous cousins that kept looking back and forth between themselves and Frodo.  He certainly knew had to get them on edge without any effort at all.

Merry had already asked why the Ranger was present, before receiving a painful kick to his shin under the table for not remembering his manners in somebody else’s house.

Bilbo had not been concerned over what he saw was Merry’s natural curiosity and gave him the same explanation as that to Sam earlier at breakfast about possible trouble presenting itself at the party.

Lunch had then continued for a time.  Gandalf had asked that Strider and Bilbo assist him to unload his wagon of surprises after they had eaten and was pleased that his friends had readily agreed.

That would leave the four hobbits on their own but that didn’t present itself as such a problem.   Sam had already offered to clear the lunch dishes so that Bilbo could go with Gandalf.

Bilbo had gotten up from the table towards the end of the meal and begun pouring milk into glasses for the four hobbits.   He had been thinking of something else at the time and before realizing it, had half-filled Frodo’s glass with the white liquid.

Frodo’s displeasure was clearly evident on his face as he scowled at the substance in the glass as though it were a vile medicine he was being asked to drink.

“You don’t expect me to drink that stuff do you Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo asked still eyeing the milk with distain.

“Oh I am sorry Frodo, I wasn’t thinking.  No of course not.  I know you don’t like milk.   I will get you a fresh glass of juice or tea if you would prefer?” Bilbo said apologetically.

“I’ll drink it Frodo,” Pippin said and grabbed at the glass before any reply could be given.

Sam glared at the hobbit a little, thinking that he was being very rude, but then relenting a little at Pippin’s enthusiasm.  He knew that Frodo wouldn’t drink the milk anyway but he could have been more polite about it.

“I take it you do not like to drink milk Frodo,” Strider said, noting the hobbit’s obvious dislike.

“No, Mr Strider, there isn’t any threat that anyone could make that would force me to drink that stuff,” Frodo affirmed.

It was about now that Frodo noted how tired he was suddenly becoming.  The headache that had eased earlier was beginning to resurface and he no longer had an appetite for his remaining lunch.

“I think it’s about time we headed out to help Gandalf,” Bilbo now stated.  “How about you go and have a little lay down inside Frodo,” he suggested, noting his nephew grimacing slightly from the headache again.

“I might just do that Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo agreed, thinking that a nice soft pillow would be more than welcome at this point in time.

“What are we going to do if you are going to be boring and rest?” Merry said, not knowing about Frodo’s headache.  Staying still for too long didn’t appeal to either Merry or Pippin.

“I think you and Pippin would be best suited to helping young Sam here clean up the dishes don’t you?” Bilbo said, not accepting no for an answer.   “You can go out and play later on after your lunch has settled some.”

Merry and Pippin were not entirely happy with this idea, but though they had little choice since they would be staying under Bilbo’s roof for the next few days.

Sam was happy to see Bilbo take a little control of the situation and vowed that the two hobbits would keep their voices and games to a minimum if Mr Frodo was going to try and rest to ease his headache.

“We shan’t be long,” Bilbo said, noting the slightly disappointed looks on his visitors.  “By the time you finish helping Sam we should have returned.  Frodo can choose if he feels like going out or not later.”

Gandalf, Strider and Bilbo now prepared to leave and go to the wagon.  Frodo had gotten up from the table and retrieved a pillow from his own bed before settling onto the settee in the sitting room.   Somehow he didn’t like the idea of leaving Merry and Pippin unsupervised despite Sam being present.

Bilbo went to check on his nephew before walking out the door but was relieved to see Frodo already stretched out with his eyes closed attempting to doze off.   He brushed a stray curl away from the lad’s forehead and smiled.

Frodo smiled at the touch but didn’t open his eyes.   Seeing his nephew’s face relaxed and carefree in sleep was something he could never tire of.

“Keep an eye on him for me Sam won’t you,” Bilbo said to Sam who saw them off at the door, out of earshot from Frodo.

“Don’t worry Master Bilbo, I’ll make sure he’s not disturbed,” Sam said.  Little did Sam know that his best efforts would not prove enough against Merry and Pippin.

After the others had left, Merry and Pippin had did as they were asked and for a time went about helping Sam as best they could.   Their interest quickly waned though and the two hobbits soon found it more fun to play games with the plates and cutlery rather than drying then and putting them back in their rightful places.

Merry and Pippin were unaware that their game was beginning to get a little loud until they were harshly chastised by Sam to keep quiet.    The sitting room was only a short distance away and Sam could see his master stirring slightly from the noise.

Merry and Pip put the dishes away as requested but although one game was quickly at an end, there was always another around the corner.    Sam had now decorated the table with a large bowl of fruit.   Apples and oranges, pears and grapes.

Pippin was most impressed and would have tucked in if he hadn’t been so full after lunch.    He took two apples from the bowl and started to play around with them, tossing them into the air and catching them again.

It didn’t take much encouragement for Merry to join in and soon instead of throwing them up and catching them, they were tossing them backwards and forwards between each other.

Pippin had now taken a few steps away from his cousin to increase the distance of the throws, not taking any notice of which room he was standing in.  The lack of walls in Bilbo’s home often made it difficult to tell which room was which.

Pippin was now standing directly in front of his slumbering cousin Frodo on the settee. He wasn’t making any excessive noise at present and Sam was forced to hold back any scathing words he might have had on the tip on his tongue.

Merry tossed a large apple at his younger cousin, but his throw was not as accurate as he hoped.  A little too high and it sailed over Pippin’s head.

Merry and Pippin both cringed as they heard the unmistakable sound of the apple hitting Frodo.

Frodo woke with a fright and immediately sat up rubbing the his forehead.  There was no mark but he looked at his two cousins, demanding to know why they were throwing pieces of fruit at him while he was trying to sleep.

If Merry and Pippin thought they could get any sympathy out of Samwise, they were gravely mistaken as they heard his shocked intake of breath as he watched the apple strike his sleeping master and then see Frodo sitting up with a frown on his face.

It was about this time that Gandalf and the others proceeded to walk through the front door.   They heard Sam’s angry outburst and wondered what had happened to rile the normally gentle tempered hobbit.

When they entered the sitting room where the noise was ensuing from, they were greeted with Merry and Pippin looking very guilty about something and Sam threatening to do them bodily harm.

Frodo was by now wide awake again and trying not to laugh at Sam’s serious face.  His headache seemed to have eased to a barely noticeable level once again but he was not impressed by the way he had been woken.

RUN” was the suggestion that the two cousins said to each other with their eyes, a little afraid of being in the middle of both an angry Sam and a cross looking Frodo.

TO BE CONTINUED……………………..

There was so much I wanted to include in this chapter – but it just kept getting longer and longer.

In case anybody is wondering – the darkness is coming – eventually – the Nazguls had to take a packed lunch to get there and took the wrong exit on the freeway.

I have used a fair bit of movie content in this part – those I have used are in “italics” even if I have only added a word or to for the sentence to make sense.   Some are a little out of sequence to the movie but I switched the order to suit my own purposes.

There will start to be a few little abilities that Frodo’s displays that are not taken very seriously at the moment.  Most of them seem barely noticeable but will play various roles of important as this story progresses and in the later ones.   The idea that Frodo could run fast is the first.   There will be a further two mentioned in the next chapter.

The next chapter will include the preparations for the party, some mischief involving Merry, Pippin and Gandalf.   A little bit of hurt for Frodo (not serious) and some light-hearted revenge for Frodo against his cousins.

I am going to try and make Frodo as complicated as possible using his emotions and feelings over the next few chapters.   There will be parts of his personality that others never knew existed and this will definitely continue onto later chapters and stories.

Thank you to all that reviewed that last part – I really do appreciate the kind comments and encouragement.   I hope you all keep reading and enjoying the story.

JULES

Chapter Two – Breakfast at Bag End

“It’s alright Frodo my lad,” Bilbo said as he tried to reassure his young nephew who was still in pain from the hot water on his hand as well as dealing with his being startled by the Ranger.

“Come on, let’s get you up off the floor and I will take a look at your hand,” Bilbo added.    Frodo gratefully accepted his Uncle’s assistance to stand and then to sit on one of the kitchen chairs.

Bilbo now turned around and saw Samwise still trying to break free from Strider’s grip on his clothes.  “Give me the fork Sam,” Bilbo instructed, holding out his hand.

Sam was a little reluctant to give up his trowel at first and looked back towards the Ranger a few times before handing over the small hand tool.

Bilbo was aware of Sam’s fierce loyalty to Frodo and decided to make a choice that would suit both.  “Samwise could you please get me a large bowl and pour some cold water into it please.”

“Yes Master Bilbo,” Sam said, and was grateful when Strider set him down on the floor before releasing his grasp.   The young hobbit did as he was asked without so much as a questioning look.

Strider was still standing close by, observing the interactions of these curious little people.  He knew that he wasn’t being ignored.  Bilbo would make the necessary introductions when he had seen to Frodo’s injured hand.

“Here you go Master Bilbo, nice and cold,” Sam said as he brought back an over-sized bowl filled almost to the brim.  When he set it on the table some of it sloshed over the sides and onto the table cloth.  “I am sorry Master Bilbo,” Sam said sheepishly.

“That’s alright Sam, the water will do nicely for Frodo’s burn,” Bilbo said, taking the conversation away from the mishap entirely.  “Cold water is the best medicine for this sort of things, takes the sting out of it right away and the longer you leave the burn submerged, the better the results.”

Frodo had yet to say anything to anybody in the room.  He eyes wandered on a few occasions to where the Ranger was standing.  He still had a small amount of fear about the man unsettled inside of him, but that was mostly due to the Ranger’s size.  When he looked into the man’s eyes, they seemed to portray a difference that wasn’t immediately noticed from the outer appearance.

“Now let’s take that hand out Frodo,” Bilbo said gently, trying to pry it out from underneath the lad’s coat.  He didn’t want to pull too much and cause any more discomfort than was already apparent on his nephew’s face.

Frodo wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen, but he had enough faith and trust in his Uncle Bilbo to let the old hobbit attend to his injury as he deemed necessary. He couldn’t suppress the wince of pain that escaped his lips as his Uncle’s fingers came in contact with the reddened and blistered skin.

“My apologies again little one for causing you this pain,” Strider commented again as he watched the young hobbit.   By now he too had had time to observe a little more of Frodo’s facial features and he was amazed at the colour of the boy’s eyes.  He had never seen such a colour in a hobbit’s eyes before in his travels.

Most hobbit’s he had come to meet had either hazel eyes or ones of deep brown.  They had always spoke of warmth and hospitality that the little people were known for.   They also spoke of truth and honesty in what they did for the livelihoods and how they raised their families.

Looking at Frodo’s vivid blue eyes, Strider wasn’t quite sure what qualities this lad would possess.   If the lad had been under Bilbo’s tuition he was in no doubt that all of the other characteristics he knew of would be present, but there was something else compelling about Frodo that the Ranger couldn’t quite put into words at the moment.

“I am sorry too, for acting so rashly Sir, but you startled me and I lost my balance and the caused most of my own injury.” Frodo said in response.    His injured hand was now relaxing in to cool water and it did feel quite good.  Some of the stinging sensation was already easing due to the temperature of the water.

“I think it is long overdue for some introductions,” Bilbo now said as he sat on a chair beside his nephew, carefully monitoring the burn on Frodo’s hand.  He could see a reddened area spreading across half of the small hand but would wait until the water had done it’s job to take a more careful look at the damage.

“Frodo my lad, this man is called Strider.  We have known each other a great many years and you have no reason to be afraid of him.   His a man as you can see but he means no harm to us here in the Shire,” Bilbo explained.

“Strider, this gentle lad is my nephew Frodo Baggins.  He is more correctly a cousin, but the lineages from my family tree are too complicated to explain so it is easier that he call me Uncle,” Bilbo continued.

“Nice to meet you, Sir,” Frodo said in a most polite manner.

“As it is to meet you, Master Baggins,” Strider replied, his manner also polite but almost regal sounding.

“This other young hobbit you have already met by other methods,” Bilbo stated, hinting at the forked trowel, “Samwise Gamgee.”

“Hello,” Sam said in a small voice, wondering if the man was going to ask for some sort of punishment for such rude treatment.   “I apologize not acting proper, but I thought you meant to hurt Mr Frodo here, and I couldn’t let that happen,” Sam explained.

“Apology not necessary Mr Gamgee when you are defending or protecting somebody you care for.   It is a fine thing you look out for you friend, even when he doesn’t ask,” the Ranger commented.

Sam sighed audibly in relief at the man’s words and now took up a seat of his own at the table once Bilbo gestured for him to do so.

“You let that hand soak in that water while I start making breakfast Frodo my lad and then I will take a better look at it.“ Bilbo said as he added a pinch of a herb into the water,allowing it to infuse.  It usually worked better if the water was hot or boiling, but a small amount should show some benefit.

“I must have been away longer than I thought Bilbo.  I had yet to learn that you had another family member staying with you,” Strider said as he watched the older hobbit hover around the assortment of pots and pots.

“It has been too long since we last seen each other Strider,” Bilbo admitted, still talking with his back to the Ranger.   He turned around to make a large pot of tea as he continued the conversation.  “I brought Frodo back with me from Brandy Hall and adopted him as my own.   He is the now my heir and the heir of Bag End when the time comes.”

“Here you go Frodo, tea just the way you like it and I added an extra spoon of honey just for you this morning,” Bilbo said as he placed the cup in front of the lad’s good hand.

“Adopted?   May I ask where your parents are?” Strider asked not realizing that the topic was one that Frodo was not ready to discuss anytime, including the breakfast table with someone he had only just met.

Strider quickly regretted his question as he watched Frodo stare intently into his cup of tea, his face and cheeks turning a few shades redder, refusing to look at the person directing the question.

Bilbo now gave a curt shake of his head to the Ranger that indicated the subject was better to be discussed when such tender ears wouldn’t hear.

“I humbly apologize again little one.  It seems that I have hurt you too many times already this morning even with just simple words,” Strider said.

“It’s alright Sir, even after all these years, the memories are still hurtful to recall,” Frodo said as he looked up, a single tear barely visible against the blue background.

“My parents were accidentally drowned when I was only 12 years old,” he added, at least completing half of the Ranger’s question.

“Please forgive me for my curiosity,” Strider asked formally.

“You were not to know,” Frodo said, giving the Ranger a small smile in return.

“Sam would you like to join us in breakfast?” Bilbo now asked Frodo’s friend sitting across the other side of the table.   Bilbo thought Sam’s company would be most warranted this morning.

Sam looked a little shocked at first to the Ranger.  He knew very little about the hierarchy that the hobbit society abided by but assumed that Sam thought he would be out of place.

“If you think that it would be alright, Master Bilbo,” Sam finally said, not really wanting to leave Mr Frodo at this point in time.  “My Gaffer would not think it proper unless an invitation be given first.”

“Well I will need your assistance with Frodo’s hand in a few minutes and he may require some help during his own breakfast,” Bilbo said with a sly wink towards his nephew.

Frodo was grateful that Bilbo had asked Sam.  He would be more at ease with his young friend joining them for breakfast.  He gave an appreciative smile to his Uncle and in return got a slight squeeze on his shoulder that spoke volumes.   There were times when he and his Uncle needed to use very little words to convey how they felt towards each other.

“I would like you to stay please Sam,” Frodo said in a gentle voice.

“For Mr Frodo anything,” Sam said honestly.  “Just tell me what I need to do Mr Bilbo.”

“Okay Sam, well I have just about finished cooking breakfast,” Bilbo said as he laid out an array of dishes that would suit both man and hobbit down the opposite end of the table from Frodo.

Even from that short distance away, the aromas were tantalizing and they looked much better than what the Ranger had been living of before arriving in the Shire.   Strider couldn’t be anything else but impressed with Bilbo’s culinary talent.

“Now they are a little hot so while they cool slightly to enjoy I will take a look at this hand now Frodo,” Bilbo said.  He walked to the pantry and from one of the bottom shelves, produced a small cloth bag that contained some medicinal herbs and bandages.

Laying the bag on the table he now gentle removed Frodo’s hand from the water.  It was now tepid to the touch and would be of little benefit.   Bilbo carefully dried the small hand on a clean towel and closely examined the redness and blistering.

Bilbo could feel the Ranger’s eyes on him and Frodo’s hand the entire time, knowing of the Ranger’s healing abilities and skill, but choosing not to reveal them for such a minor incident.  Frodo would come to know everything about the Ranger when it needed to be known.

“Well I think you have been most fortunate Frodo,” Bilbo said, voicing his own relief that the burn had not been as serious as it could have been.

“Will he be alright Mr Bilbo?” Sam asked, seeming to be the only one not yet fully convinced.

“Well, we will have to keep this area of the hand wrapped for a few days where the skin is most blistered.  If the blisters are allowed to burst, then they may become infected if they are not kept extremely clean,” Bilbo explained to Sam and Frodo.

“But other than that and a few applications of a moisturizing salve once the blisters have burst to keep the skin soft, then you should be just fine Frodo,” Bilbo said as he now dug into the bag and gathered what he would need.

Not less than ten minutes later, Frodo’s hand was bandaged from the wrist to just above his thumb.  The bandage was firm enough to prevent any foreign objects or dirt from entering but still allow Frodo almost full use of his hand.  He would need to be careful about how he picked up things for a day or so until the soreness went away, but then he should just need to keep it clean and it would heal on it’s own

without too much trouble.

Frodo was happy that he didn’t lose the use of his hand.  He wouldn’t not have been very pleased to have to rely on somebody else to help him out with certain tasks.  One trait Strider was yet to learn about the shy young hobbit was his fierce sense of independence.  It had been instilled into him from a very young age when most children perhaps were not expected to display the same.

“Now is that all that needs looking at Frodo?” Bilbo asked, knowing his nephew had a tendency to hide pain from him in the past on occasion.

Frodo was about to answer negatively to his Uncle when Sam answered on his behalf: “I think he might have cut his knee on the broken cup Mr Bilbo,” he informed the older hobbit.  Frodo inwardly groaned and didn’t think that such a minor scratch would need any attention.

Bilbo could see the quick change in facial expressions on Frodo that confirmed at least part of Sam’s theory to be truthful.    Frodo was forced to pull his chair away enough from the table to allow Bilbo to judge for himself if there was any medical attention needed.

Fortunately for Frodo though, Bilbo erred towards his nephew’s thoughts upon looking at the three or four scratches that had occurred from the shards of broken cup and saucer. He briefly gave the area a swab with clean water on a cloth to clean the small amount of blood but would leave such minor abrasions to heal on their own.

“When did you arrive in the Shire Mr Strider?” Sam asked innocently, trying to think of a way around coming and out to ask why the Ranger was here.

“I knocked on Bilbo’s door late last night Sam,” Strider answered.  He knew there would be a lot of such questions asked about his sudden presence in the Shire.  Some he was prepared to answer, others would be left for only those whom were directly involved.

Strider looked over at Frodo after answering Sam’s question and couldn’t help but think that the expression on the lad’s face gave him away.  Frodo could have guessed that he had arrived the night before just by his appearance at breakfast.  Something told the Ranger that Frodo knew exactly when he had knocked on the door last night.

Had I awoken Frodo with my arrival? Strider thought to himself.   If that was so, How much more information was he aware of that he had perhaps overheard?

Bilbo came to the Ranger’s rescue, “I can see you are most interested in why Mr Strider is here Sam,” he commented.   He had to come up with a plausible explanation for Frodo too.  Sam would take anything he was told upon face value.  Frodo however would not and he was astute enough to see through any deception that Bilbo might be concealing.

Strider tried to hide the smile that had formed on his lips at the older hobbit’s remark.  He didn’t know how Bilbo expected to explain himself out of this, but he was certainly going to let him try first before the question was asked squarely of him.

Frodo of course was now just as curious about Strider’s reason for being there as Sam’s. He just wasn’t as confident in asking the affairs of someone else.

Bilbo thought for a few seconds:  “I asked Strider to come to my Birthday Party Sam,for two reasons.  Firstly because it is my birthday and he and I have known each other a very long time.  Everyone thinks I am mad anyway so the appearance of a man at my party will certainly get the tongues waging for quite a while in the Shire I should think,” he said with a grin.

Bilbo certainly knew of the various rumours and idle gossip that circulated about him and Bag End and his adoption of Frodo.  He didn’t usually listen to them except when they inadvertently hurt Frodo’s feelings or if something was said out of nastiness or pure spitefulness.

“As you know Frodo, my other dear long time friend Gandalf is also due to come today or tomorrow for the party as well.   I have heard from certain sources that will remain secret that there may be some people at the party who are willing to cause some trouble either before, during or after the party.    Therefore, I am taking all the necessary precautions in case these troubles eventuate,” Bilbo said, explaining his second reason.

“This is the second reason I have asked for Mr Strider to attend.   I am hoping that he will be able to spot any trouble before it starts and deal with it accordingly without disrupting everyone else,” Bilbo informed the two younger hobbits seated at the table.

“You certainly look like you would be able to help out there Sir, if you take my meaning, no offence intended,” Samwise commented.  He seemed satisfied enough with the explanation for the Ranger being in the Shire.   With the man’s size, he doubted there would be a hobbit daring to put a foot out of line.

Strider didn’t make any comment but looked intently at Frodo to see if he bought the same explanation as easily as Sam.   Frodo’s face though was paused with a frown at present.  Not because of the reasons given, but the announcement that somebody might be out to make trouble for his Uncle’s birthday.

Frodo preferred to stay away from many of the shire folk that spoke ill of his Uncle or himself but he would be determined to stop such foolishness and nonsense such as trouble if he knew if was about to take place.

Frodo knew that there were a great many people invited to the birthday party.  His Uncle had shown him the guest list a number of times and had included a lot of distant relatives for his benefit even though he had told Bilbo it wasn’t necessary to invite them.  Some of the names on the list Frodo couldn’t even put a face to and many of them would be travelling a great distance.

Frodo of course hadn’t even considered the idea that he was the primary person Bilbo had asked the Ranger to help protect from the trouble.  He was only concerned about his Uncle and assumed that if Bilbo had thought there was going to be trouble then such information couldn’t be taken lightly.

“Don’t worry Uncle, I will make sure that nobody interrupts the celebrations,” Frodo now said with determination in his voice.

“Oh Frodo, my boy, I know you will look after your Uncle,” Bilbo said with a proud laugh as he gave his nephew’s hand a quick squeeze to signify his gratitude.

“And I will be there watching out for you too Mr Frodo,” Sam said as he now realized that Bilbo’s concerns were mostly for his master than himself.

“And if this morning is anything to go by, then you have nothing to worry about Frodo,” Strider said as he rubbed absentmindedly at the part of his rump that Sam had stabbed with the garden fork.

All four around the table laughed together in mirth and breakfast was commenced, even though a little late.

Strider had filled his own plate sparsely as he did not require large amounts of food as hobbits were known to consume.  He didn’t quite understand the custom they had of partaking in a meal more than three times a day.  He supposed because of their stout bodies they needed more fuel oftener to keep themselves going.

The differences in physique between Sam and Bilbo to Frodo had been apparent even after only brief glimpses at the boy earlier that morning.  Whilst Bilbo and Sam had the normal short, rotund build that was associated with hobbits, Frodo was as thin as a pencil, not an ounce of extra weight to him.

Sam’s plate was quite the opposite from that of the Ranger’s.   His plate was full with a little out of each dish, as too was Bilbo’s plate.  They both were enjoying their breakfast with rejuvenated vigour. Frodo’s plate was quite sparse in helping as Striders.  He had only taken a few samples of his favourite dishes and now only picked occasionally at the plate with his utensils.

“If it is alright with you Uncle, I think I will go for my walk now,” Frodo announced,pushing aside his barely eaten breakfast and getting up from the table.

Sam looked a little disappointed at how much his Master had consumed but didn’t let Frodo see it openly.   His own plate was only half finished and he rather have preferred to eat the rest.

“That’s alright Sam, I can go for the walk on my own, you can catch me up after you have finished,” Frodo suggested.  The thinner hobbit cherished his friendship with Sam but also treasured the times when he was left to his own devices and wander at his own leisure.

“That’s alright Frodo, off you go but be careful.  Sam you can finish your breakfast and then be so kind as to show Strider around the Shire for a few hours and then meet up with Frodo later while I attend to some necessary business for the celebration,” Bilbo said.  He could see his nephew’s wish for some solitude and was happy to cater to both Frodo and Sam.

“Of course Mr Bilbo,” Sam said in respect.  He didn’t want to get his Gaffer’s Master cross but he didn’t feel right leaving Frodo alone for too long either.  Bilbo’s idea would work out for all involved.   Sam often wondered if Bilbo wasn’t more educated than most shire folk gave him credit for.

“Are you certain that you have had enough breakfast Frodo,” Bilbo asked, a little worried about how much his nephew had left on his plate.  Frodo’s eating habits were always a source of concern for the older hobbit but all of the methods he had employed to change them so far had either failed or not had the desired effect.

“I will see you a little later than Sam, hopefully with yourself Mr Strider,” Frodo said, his manners and politeness again shining through.  He failed to answer his Uncle’s question or decided to avoid it.

“Good day to you Mr Frodo, I trust you will enjoy your walk,” Strider replied.

“No rough play today with that hand Frodo,” Bilbo said as his nephew opened the door and prepared to leave.

“I only plan to go as far as the trees Uncle and maybe read a little,” Frodo responded with a smile and then closing the door behind him.

“Read?,” Strider asked questioningly of Bilbo.  “You have a young scholar for nephew then my old friend.”

“Yes, Frodo has always preferred quiet reading under a tree to more physical interests that other boys his own age participate in,” Bilbo answered.  “He learns well and very quickly so be on your guard Strider,” he added with a smile, knowing that his nephew’s thinking might even match that of the Ranger himself.

“Sam, why don’t you get ready to show Mr Strider around the Shire whilst we wait for you in the sitting room,” Bilbo said, indicating to the Ranger that he wished to say a few words out of earshot of the younger hobbit.

“Yes Mr Bilbo Sir,” Sam replied, not reading anymore in the request.

Strider and Bilbo moved to the sitting room to continue their whispered conversation.

“Strider I don’t want to seem like an overbearing old fool, but I can’t tell you how much Frodo has come to mean to me since moving here.  It would disturb me greatly if harm of any kind was to befall him, even if accidental.”

“You wish me to keep an eye out for the lad whilst I am here Bilbo,” Strider said almost as though he read the old hobbit’s train of thought.   “I would be honoured to do so and you need not ask.   I must say he already is a very likeable young hobbit and I have only just met him.”

“Don’t get me wrong Strider, Samwise has always looked out for Frodo and he can tell you some of the harshness that my nephew faces every day from folk who have nothing better to do than say an unkind word.  But if what you say is true about a darkness coming to this area soon, then there is all the more reason to be extra vigilant against things that neither Frodo or Sam have come across before,” Bilbo stated as he voiced his worst fears to the Ranger.

“Frodo wouldn’t like the idea of him being watched over constantly by someone such as yourself.   That is why I suggested that you and Sam meet up with him later, that way you could still appear to be observing from a distance without crowding his individual space.  He enjoys his hours alone and I don’t want to put a stop to his wishes, but I need to make sure that he is safe too,” Bilbo added.

“Understood Bilbo.  I won’t alert the lad to anything other than friendship between himself and me,” Strider replied.

Any further discussions between the Ranger and Bilbo were interrupted by Sam’s appearance at the sitting room doorway, signaling that he was ready to leave upon their tour of the Shire.

“I’ll leave you in Sam’s capable hands Strider.  I will be here in my study if you require anything.  I trust you too enjoy your walk.   Sam make sure you take Strider by the field that I intend using for the birthday party celebrations.  The marques and tables won’t be erected before tomorrow afternoon, but at least he will have an overview of

the area,” Bilbo instructed.

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

An hour after Samwise and Strider had left Bilbo’s house together in company, the Ranger was still fascinated by the young hobbit’s knowledge of local history and current events.

Sam had barely stopped talking to take a breath and his knowledge of who lived in what dwelling with whom and each scandal that presented itself was in depth and made for very interesting conversation as they walked.

“Would you mind telling me a few more things about your master Frodo, since you seem to know him better than most?” Strider asked as Sam stopped his last sentence.

“I would tell you what I can without Frodo being cross at me for telling Sir,” Sam replied.

“Alright then, you just tell me if I ask the wrong type of question or one that you will not answer for fear of what Frodo might do if he finds out,” Strider said with a chuckle.  He was quietly amazed at the loyalty that the young hobbit was displaying towards Frodo.  It did seem that there was very little, if anything that he wouldn’t do for the dark-haired lad.

“Why does Frodo not look like most hobbits for instance?,” Strider said as he asked his first question.

“Mr Frodo has never been one to eat very much, as long as I can remember.  Just seems to take a little and that’s enough to keep him going.  He is a lot smarter than most others in the Shire too,” Sam added.  “I think that comes from reading all those books with Mr Bilbo and learning all those different words.”

“You mean other words that he doesn’t speak,” Strider commented, taking that as what Sam meant by “different words”.

“Yes, Mr Bilbo has taught him to read some other languages such as the elves talk and the like,” Sam said, giving a more detailed answer.

Strider found this fact to be most interesting.  He knew that Bilbo had learned a great deal about many different races through his travels.   The fact that Frodo was willing to learn such difficult languages in the first place spoke highly for the lad and his ability to take in information.

“What is this Brandy Hall place that Bilbo speaks about?” asking his second question.

“Don’t rightly know a real lot about that place.  Never been out of the Shire myself,and Mr Frodo never did really like talking about it.   That was the place where Mr Bilbo went to get him from when he adopted him.  Mr Bilbo thinks that they didn’t always treat him properly and let him be himself,” Sam explained.

“And seems as you know so much about your Master,” Strider now said, holding back on the rest of his questions until later.  He didn’t want to ask too many questions all at once.  “Where do you think he is right now?” he added, noting it had been quite a spell during their walk and they had yet to see any sign of Frodo in their travels.

“That’s an easy question,” Sam said with a grin and promptly started leading Strider along a different pathway to that they were currently travelling.  The Ranger soon found himself following the young hobbit through the trees and tall grass to an area dotted by very large shade trees.

Sam put his fingers to his lips when he stopped, “He’s over there, but I don’t like disturbing him when he is reading.”  The hobbit held out his arm and pointed towards one of the more central trees in the field and a small figure sitting underneath it and leaning back against the trunk.

From where Strider was standing, he could see Frodo was relaxed and calm, quietly reading a small brown covered book which he was holding in his uninjured hand.  There was a long stalk of grass protruding from his mouth as he looked as though he was totally engrossed in the literature that was in front of him.

That relaxation seemed to be shattered in a brief second as Frodo suddenly jerked his head up and scanned the immediate area.  It looked to Strider and Sam as though he had been struck by some sort of object.   Frodo had looked at the particular area on his arm where he felt it strike him.  It hadn’t hurt him, just alerted him to the fact that somebody else was nearby.

Frodo didn’t seem to notice Strider and Sam where they were standing.   Thinking that maybe a seed from the tree above was responsible he returned to reading his book.

A few seconds later his attention was drawn again from something striking his shirt, this time the projectile had hit him with a little more solid, making him gasp out of surprise rather than feeling any pain.

There was now a pause in anything striking Frodo and the hobbit seemed to be satisfied enough to go back to his reading once again.  He couldn’t see the cause and so didn’t think much about it.

“What is going on?” Sam asked himself, realizing that his Master’s relaxation was being disturbed by an unseen party.

Strider was beginning to think that maybe Bilbo had a reason to be worried about Frodo.  He used his keen eyesight to look amongst the long grass to track down the reason for Frodo’s disruption.

“I should have known,” Sam said in a slightly angry voice as he spotted the responsible party before the Ranger.  “Lotho Sackville-Baggins,” he said between his teeth, pointing to the shielded figure of a hobbit trying to conceal himself in the long grass, a short distance away from Frodo.

Sam could see the questioning look on the Ranger’s face about who Lotho was.  He decided to give the shortest but more correct account he could for a family that seemed to want to taunt his Master Frodo no matter what he was doing or where he was.

“His parents Lobelia and Otho Sackville-Baggins take any chance they can to remind Mr Bilbo that my Master Mr Frodo doesn’t belong here and should be sent back to Brandy Hall.    They like it even less that Frodo has become Mr Bilbo’s heir and they are out to take any opportunity to change that,” Sam informed Strider.

“They are awful hobbits, if you beggin my pardon Sir.  I try not to find fault in most, but they say cruel things behind Mr Frodo’s back and to his face that hurt him.  Lotho and his parents think nothing about making idle threats to Mr Bilbo and Mr Frodo about what they would do if they inherited Bag End,” he continued.

“Mr Frodo tries his hardest to ignore the harsh words and threats.  Even so much as to act just as polite as always to then when they turn up unannounced at Bag End for afternoon tea.   But it just isn’t right what they say about him all the time.  I wish they would just leave him alone.  Maybe they are the ones that Mr Bilbo talks about making trouble at the birthday celebration,” Sam now thought.

“The party is also for Mr Frodo who is becoming of age and maybe they aim to spoil things before it becomes official for my Master to inherit Bag End,” Sam said to Strider.  “It would be just something that they would do to hurt him,” he said, not able to hide the dislike that he felt towards the Sackville-Bagginses.

Sam could see Lotho holding a sling shot which he was using to hurl small stones at Frodo.  Sam wasn’t going to stand for this nonsense and was about to go towards the other older hobbit when he felt a gentle restraining hand from Strider.

It was Strider’s turn to put his fingers to his lips, signaling that he would sneak up on this other hobbit nuisance and stop him from annoying Frodo with any more stones.

Lotho had another stone in his hand, a little larger than the first few and was about to fire it at Frodo when he was startled by a hand grabbing the sling shot and stone from behind him.

“What do you think you are doing?” Lotho demanded angry before turning around and facing Strider.   He couldn’t help but swallow as he noticed it was a big person.  He was determined not to show his fear though and decided to demonstrate his usual arrogant and self-assured side to the stranger interrupting his fun.

“What do you think you are doing Lotho?” Samwise said, tapping his foot towards the older hobbit, trying to intimidate him a little.  It didn’t work though as there was a considerable age difference between him and Lotho, not to mention his height.

“Well if it isn’t a lowly little Gamgee hobbit come to take care of his Master,” Lotho jibed towards Sam.  It was clear to all that he was looking down at Sam to indicate their social statuses within the Shire.

“I believe Sam asked you a question young ruffian,” Strider said in a low but deep voice that demanded respect.

“I don’t believe I have had the pleasure,” Lotho said cheekily trying to see if the stranger react to such taunting.  The grin was wiped from his face though as Strider’s grip on his hand was made a little tighter, making the hobbit wince at the vice-like pressure.

“And I don’t believe you will, but you listen and do so well my young hobbit,” Strider now warned.  “You need not to know who I am or what I have to do with Frodo Baggins other than I plan to make sure that he comes to no harm.   If you do such much as even look at him the wrong way and I find out about it……………, he paused briefly to gauge if he had the hobbit’s full attention.  Or you attempt any unplanned or unnecessary physical contact with him then you and me will meet again under less friendlier circumstances.”

“Don’t you threaten me,” Lotho said as he pulled his hand out of the Ranger’s grasp.  “I will not have you talk to me in such a fashion,” he added, his voice no longer able to hold the arrogant attitude.

“My mother will hear of such an outrage,” Lotho said, looking directly at Sam as he spoke the words.  Sam knew all to well that any retribution would of course be directed at Frodo rather than the big person.

Lotho now stormed off in the opposite direction of Strider and Sam and Frodo, heading back towards the town, mumbling to himself that such insults would not be tolerated without a response of some kind from him or his family to that hateful Frodo Baggins.

From where Lotho was, any conversation between Sam, Strider and him would go unnoticed by Frodo.  Just like Bilbo wanted.

“Thank you Mr Strider,” Sam said in genuine thanks as he watched Lotho walk away.  He was grateful to see that the Ranger was ready to assist his Master where possible.  They needed to be more alert over the next few days and at the birthday celebration.

“No need to thank me Sam, I have come to like your Master Mr Frodo, even in such a short time.  I would not like to see him hurt or upset either,” Strider said.

From where they were standing, Sam and the Ranger could still see Frodo buried in his book under the tree, seemingly oblivious to anything going on around him after the stones stopped striking him.

But after a few seconds another sound entirely could be heard coming towards them. It sounded like it was coming from the roadway rather than amongst the trees.

Sam and Strider waited where they were to see if they could see what was coming. Frodo had also heard the noise.   At first his brow had wrinkled as he too tried to listen more intently, trying to judge if what he was hearing could be true.

When he was certain, Frodo jumped to his feet in excitement, and as he looked towards the roadway, Sam and the Ranger noted a large grin on the lad’s handsome face.

Recognition was obvious but before Sam could alert his Master to their presence nearby, he and Strider were both amazed to see Frodo now running as fast as he could towards the roadway.

TO BE CONTINUED…………

I hope you are enjoying the story so far – getting longer and longer by the minute. I didn’t think the breakfast scene would take this many words.  I just kept adding bits and pieces to it.

I apologize for any mistakes I may have made about LOTR history or any names I may have mis-spelled.  I also hope that I have not wavered to far from people’s takes on the individual personalities of each character.

I don’t mean to make Strider and Bilbo out as so secretive.   I just want to keep the idea about the Wraiths coming until later in the story.  The fact that Bilbo knows that danger is coming and doesn’t do anything straight away is also not intentional and I humbly ask for readers to believe that’s what happened.

Any medicinal information is only from my own sources and not meant as true procedure to any injury or treatment that I may have used in my story so far or will in the future.

As you have probably guessed, I leave this chapter at the place where Gandalf arrives in the movie and hope that the sequence of events that I have included is at least logical.

Not much has happened yet.  More to come.  In next chapter, the party preparations take place that I envisaged happened prior in the movie.  A few little incidents to come involving Lotho.

I know the appearance of a big person in the Shire would be out of place too, but I need that to make the story work.  I just need both people, elves, dwarves and hobbits everywhere to suspend what they know to be true for a while and take what I write as happening.

I have also referred to Frodo as a boy in many parts – not intending for him to be called a human “boy” – just makes the story flow a little easier at times instead of constantly using “the hobbit” and similar descriptions.

Any information that I write in my LOTR stories about eating flows on that in the two other fandoms I write – the main character in each all are finicky eaters and just push the food around on a plate or go for long lengths without anything to eat or refuse to do so.  The other two are like this in all stories that I know about them as well.   One other character also dislikes milk to the point of refusing to drink it – I am going to include this for Frodo later on – just something I dreamed up – nothing from the book or the movie.

I wanted to write a close relationship between Bilbo and Frodo as well as Frodo and Aragorn and Sam too.

Last note – I am Australian – there will be spelling differences for a number of words. I write as I normally would in my own style and apologize if this offends anyone. Please keep reading despite these differences.

JULES

Chapter One – Unexpected Introductions

The Ranger paused on top of the ridge he had just climbed.  Down below he was to discover a very curious series of buildings and roadways.

So this was the place known as the SHIRE Strider said to himself.

He had often heard stories and legends about the hobbits that were supposed to live in this small community.   Curiosity was tugging at the edges of his long coat and urged him to go down and take a closer look around.

The Ranger drew his long, thick cloak around his shoulders more tightly as cold night air blew against his neck.   He tucked one arm into the warm folds as he walked, but his other hand remanded within reaching distance of his sword.

He had no knowledge of what danger may already be lurking within the small village.  He had learned a very long time ago to keep his guard up against those who served the Dark Lord Sauron.

Strider reminded himself also that the hour was particularly late and nobody would appreciate an unexpected visitor.   But the news that he carried could ill afford to wait no longer and he needed to talk to Bilbo Baggins without delay.

Once the Ranger had managed to make his way into the Shire village without being detected, the next problem he faced was finding the dwelling house of Bilbo Baggins.  Although he knew the aging hobbit lived here, Strider had no clues as to which house it might be.

Strider decided he would use what limited information he had come to learn about Bilbo and deduce from there which dwelling might indeed suit that particular hobbit.

Because of the late hour, most hobbits were safely tucked in their beds asleep.  The Ranger’s footsteps along the well-laden roads of the Shire were soft enough not to disturb anybody in the houses that he had already passed.

After what seemed like only a brief walk, Ranger now noticed that the roadway he was travelling on began to have a steep incline.   He proceeded to walk up this hill as none of the dwellings he had seen so far seemed to fit Bilbo Baggins.

Once he was at the top, he noticed a slightly larger hobbit dwelling, nestled off the roadway a little.   From where he was standing, the Ranger noted that the occupant of this dwelling would be able to see out over the rest of the Shire but be far enough removed from the noise and chaos to enjoy a peaceful, uninterrupted existence.

As Strider made his way closer to the hobbit dwelling, he noted that the house wasn’t just a little larger than those he had already surveyed further down in the valley. This house was larger than any other hobbit abode he had come to know of.

Standing in front of the gateway that led to this house, Strider could see two signs that indicated that this was indeed Bilbo Baggin’s home.  The first was a large bold sign on the front wall of the house that read BAG END.

The second was a much smaller sign, hand written and attached to the gate itself as the Ranger went to step inside the yard.   It read:  NO VISITORS, from what Strider knew of Bilbo, the elderly hobbit was particularly fond of his own company and often shunned the rest of the world to be left alone with his books and journals.

Strider approached the front door to the house and knocked twice as loud as he dared.  He didn’t know if Bilbo would be asleep or as his desk writing well into the morning hours and he often was known to do.

inside the house:

 Bilbo had actually retired to his bed only about an hour before he heard what sounded like someone knocking at the front door.   At first he was minded to just roll over and go back to sleep.

After a few more poundings on the door, it became quite clear that whoever the late hour visitor was, they were not going to simply go away if he ignored them.

Concern for someone other than himself quickly entered his mind as he thought about his young nephew Frodo who was asleep in his bedroom down the hall.

Bilbo whispered to himself as he quickly gathered his robe and vowed  to stop the incessant knocking at the door before Frodo was awoken.

“I am coming, I am coming,” Bilbo said in as loud a voice as he dared.   He looked briefly in the direction of  Frodo’s room, but noted it still to be dark.  No noises could be heard from where he stood and so thankfully he could assume that the younger hobbit had slept through undisturbed.

“Who is it at this hour?” Bilbo said in an disgruntled voice as he undid the locks and opened the door a small crack.  He almost stumbled backward in his surprise at the face that greeted him.

“I must say you are a cranky little hobbit aren’t you when you are so rudely awoken,” Strider said with a grin.

Bilbo composed himself only just enough to realise what sort of rumours would be spread around the village if a big person was spotted in the Shire in the middle of the night.

“Quickly come in before someone sees you,” Bilbo gestured to the Ranger.   Strider did as the hobbit bid and walked inside the house, carefully noting to duck his head as he entered.

Bilbo took the liberty of looking outside in the dark, trying to spot if anybody had seen the Ranger arrive or heard the knocking at the door.  He sighed in relief when he couldn’t hear anything but the cold wind outside.

“This way please,” Bilbo now said, leading Strider out of the front room and into the kitchen.  “You would be wanting something hot to drink I imagine,” he commented, and went about putting a pot of water on to boil before the Ranger had even had a chance to reply.

“I must apologize deeply for the late hour of my calling Bilbo,” Strider said as he gazed around at the home.  From outside, nobody would ever dream of what sights and aromas would be waiting on the inside.   The kitchen was richly scented with many herbs from earthen ware jars that were resting upon a shelf near the fireplace.

The rooms were quite larger that Strider had expected too.  Though small for a big person in many ways, he had no doubt that the same space could be seen as comfortable and open to a hobbit of Bilbo’s size.

“Please take a seat, Aragorn,” Bilbo stated.   He was facing the wrong way to see the look on the Ranger’s face when he uttered the man’s other name out loud.  Strider did not correct the old hobbit on this occasion.   He would have to speak to Bilbo about not using that name around these parts.

“You must be weary after your journey,” Bilbo now said, trying to ease the obvious tension that saturated the room.  “I would offer you the spare room in my humble home for as long as you intend staying,” he added.

“Thank you, and I will take up your offer, for tonight anyway,” Strider replied in gratitude.  He knew that they must soon be leaving this place.  Although there was no set time about when the dark forces might descend.   The Ranger knew that it wouldn’t be too far into the near future that the hobbit would be farewelling the Shire.

Bilbo now turned around from the fireplace and handed the Ranger a cup of piping hot tea.  Deep down inside he knew that Strider would not have ventured upon chance into his village on such a night.

He knew that there was a yearning for him to seek the solitude of other places for the remainder of his days.   If Strider was here than the secret he had kept in the pocket of his coat for the past 60 years was about to be revealed once again.

Bilbo fumbled a little with his cup and saucer, finding it hard to conceal the nervousness that was multiplying by the minute.  “Let us move into the living room where we will be more comfortable.”

Strider gave no indication to the hobbit that he sensed all was not well with Bilbo. The Ranger suspected that he knew the true reason for his presence tonight but refrained from speaking about such matters for the time being.

“Sit here Ranger,” Bilbo said as he straightened the cushions on the large chair.

He didn’t usually have furniture that would hold a big person’s weight.  He hoped it would be sufficient for the time being anyhow.

Although Strider did notice that the chair was a little cramping on his sides, he didn’t voice any complaint.  He had been travelling for many days on barely enough food and water rations to keep anybody going.  Any respite was welcome with open arms. He could scarcely remember what it would feel like later on tonight to sleep in a bed. The ground amongst the trees had been his pillow for the past three nights in a row.

Bilbo Baggins now took up in his own favourite comfortable chair, pulling it close so as to keep their voices subdued and low during conversations.

At first, there was no conversation between the two at all.  The fire crackled and burned, giving light and warmth, but the room felt incredibly oppressive and dark at the moment to Bilbo as he played with the ring in his pocket.

Strider finally broke the uneasy silence by speaking to the hobbit about the current and past events in Rivendell.  He knew that the old fool would relax slightly upon hearing the tales of the place he longed to visit.

They spoke of Elrond and the elves that were living there and things that had happened since Bilbo’s last visit.  But that visit was so very long ago and Bilbo’s soul felt very tormented and heavy for fear of not seeing such a wonderful place again.

All the time they spoke, they were unaware of a few small steps that approach them from behind…………………………..

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

When Strider had first knocked on the door, Frodo had been sound asleep.   The consistent pounding though had done what Bilbo feared and awoke the younger hobbit.   He opened his eyes at first, trying to listen to the sound.   When he heard the sound a second and third time, he sat up fully in bed, trying to listen.

Frodo had just been about to get up himself when he heard the cranky mutterings of his dear old uncle coming out of his room.   He heard his uncle then demand to know who was at the door at such a time.

From there on in until now, Frodo had only heard whispered voices and somebody walking about.  He knew some of the footsteps belonged to Bilbo, but there was a second distinct and heavier footsteps upon the wooden floor.

The young hobbit was worried that his uncle might have been in danger from the late night visitor.  He didn’t quite know if he would be able to defend himself and uncle Bilbo, but Frodo had enough courage in him to try if it became necessary.

The young hobbit told himself that it was time that he found out for himself who had entered his home.    He tiptoed out of his room and long the short corridor towards the kitchen.  He paused though as the voices seemed to be coming from a different room of the house now:  the living room.

Frodo moved as close as he dared, not wanting to intrude on the conversations between his uncle Bilbo and the stranger.  He could make out the stranger from where he was standing and almost gasped out aloud in surprise when he noted how big this man seemed to be.

Frodo had been told long ago about the race of man.  He had even been fortunate enough a few years back to see some humans from a distance.  But up this close, there size was certainly a site to behold.   The man was sitting down but even then he was a good deal taller than anybody else Frodo had seen.

His features were hidden somewhat by the darkness of the living room.  Only when the fire crackled brightest could Frodo just make out the dark shape of his eyes that seemed to look right back at him.  His voice was much deeper too, though not harsh sounding as one would expect for somebody so big.

“You have many things to tell me Ranger, I can see them in your eyes,” Bilbo now stated, knowing that he and the stranger could no longer talk idleness with evil was certainly growing by the day.

“You know you have to leave this place, and soon Bilbo Baggins,” Strider said plainly.

“Yes I know, I have already made preparations for such a journey, but there are a lot more to make,” Bilbo said, not realising that somebody else had heard these words.

Frodo threw himself back against a wall where he couldn’t be seen as he listened to his uncle’s words.  His heart was beating inside his small chest like it was ready to explode.   His eyes were as wide as saucers and held a stricken look as they began welling up with unshed tears at the thought that his beloved uncle was going to leave him alone.

The young hobbit had still not made his presence known to Bilbo and Strider.  With tears threatening to run down his face and a heavy heart that tore him up inside, he sought the sanctuary of his bedroom.   He seated himself onto the bed and continued to ponder the words he had overheard where nobody else could see his uncertain expression.

After ten minutes, Frodo had finally fallen to sleep.  He had tried to think of a reason why his uncle was leaving the Shire.  He had lived in the Shire a very long time and up until this night had not suggested at leaving at any stage.

Somewhere amidst his dreams, Frodo promised himself that he would not let his uncle leave without him knowing about it.  He would watch closely for any signs that Bilbo displayed.  If uncle Bilbo was going anywhere, Frodo would be going too.

It was well into the wee hours of the morning before Bilbo and Strider finished their conversation by the fireplace.  They still had much to talk about but would wait until their bodies were a little more rested to speak further about such matters.

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

the next morning:

 The day had started early for Samwise Gamgee and his Gaffer.   The two had wanted to get Master Bilbo’s garden ready for the big celebration that was fast approaching.

The next day would be a busy day of preparing the feast that would be needed and therefore there would be little time for gardening pleasures.  Hamfast Gamgee also wanted to make sure that Bilbo would have the freshest produce from the vegetable patch for the dishes that he needed to prepare.

Gaffer had told his son that he needed to head back to their shed and gather a few more tools that he required for the days work.  Sam nodded in acknowledgement and told his father that he would be diligently tending to the smaller flower beds around the house.   More particularly, directly under the kitchen window Sam said secretly to himself.

Sam wanted to be able to see when his master Frodo was awake.  From the window he would be able to hear the young hobbit once he entered the kitchen for breakfast.  He took a forked hand trowel and whilst supporting himself on his hand and knees, began loosing the soil around the flowers.    The household inside was still quiet and he wasn’t of a mind to wake any of the occupants before they were ready to rise on their own.

Sam was unaware of the midnight visitor to Bag End.

Strider had slept a few hours, but now sat in a corner of the kitchen that was perhaps a little darker than the rest of the room.  Weariness had allowed him to sleep initially, but after that, his body had begun to feel particularly cramped from the smallness of the bed.  His feet had reached well over the edge and it had taken almost three hobbit size blankets to cover his toes.

He had managed to boil himself a cup of tea and sat silently whilst he sipped the hot liquid, pondering what the day would ensue for himself and Bilbo Baggins.

Bilbo was still sleeping soundly after he and the Ranger had bid each other goodnight. It was doubtful that the old hobbit would stir for another hour or more yet.

On the other hand, Frodo Baggins, of whom Strider had no knowledge so far, was just beginning to awake from his sleep.  Frodo reached up and rubbed at his eyes that seemed a little puffy and red this morning.   The young hobbit had very little memory of any of the events that had unfolded the night before.  He had temporarily forgotten all about any stranger arriving in the dead of night or any of Bilbo’s talk of leaving the Shire.

Frodo got out of his bed and washed his face in a bowl of water, trying to rid himself of a strange heaviness that he seemed to carry with him this morning.  He dressed as he would have any other day and headed out to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

Frodo walked into the kitchen, but from where he stood beside the stove, the Ranger’s presence was still cloaked in shadows.  He went about his tasks, unaware that he was being curiously watched from behind.

Strider had been startled by the sudden appearance of a young hobbit in Bag End that morning.   He didn’t know who the he was, but his attention seemed to be drawn to the lad for a reason that he couldn’t explain.

Bilbo had not mentioned that he shared his accommodations with anybody when they had spoken a few hours ago.  Perhaps the lad was just a helper or assistant of some kind to the old hobbit.   Bilbo was getting on in age and maybe this lad just helped out with some of the household chores that were necessary.

Samwise had a smile on his face as he recognized the sounds of his master in the kitchen.   He watched from the window but had yet to greet Frodo, completely forgetting about the flowers for a few minutes.  He had no idea of the chaos and confusion that was about to be commenced.

Frodo by now had boiled the water sufficiently for his tea.  He was of a mind to cook some breakfast too, but chose to wait a little longer for food.  Tea was something he had enjoyed for a very long time, warming him when he felt cold and leaving a feeling of comfort and contentment inside.

Frodo reached into one of the earthenware jars that was beside the stove and now sprinkled a few dried, crushed leaves into the water, standing back and allowing them to infuse.   The aroma was both stimulating and welcoming to the senses first thing in the morning.

Strider had now decided that it best to let the young hobbit know of his presence.  He was quite unprepared for the reaction he would extract from Frodo.

Frodo now held his freshly made cup of tea in a saucer and was gently carrying both to the small table in the centre of the room when a voice came out of nowhere.

“Hello there young hobbit,” Strider now greeted Frodo, keeping his voice gentle so as not to startle the little one.   Unfortunately though the damage had already been done.

“Ahhhh,” Frodo exclaimed in fright at the voice.  He stumbled back, spilling the hot scalding tea over his hand.  The cup and saucer fell to the floor and smashed into a number of larger pieces and small shards.

“Sorry little one I did not mean to scare you so,” Strider said as he rose from the chair he sat on and attempted to approach the hobbit.  He had seen the lad grimace at the pain the hot water had caused.

But Frodo’s fright only escalated exponentially as he realised that the stranger in the room was a big person.   The man’s height was threatening, making Frodo back away as far as he could, but alas his escape was abruptly halted by the wall behind him.

“Help,” Frodo said, barely above a whisper due to the absence of his voice.

He now made an effort to shield himself underneath the table.  Maybe the lower vantage point would benefit him from the stranger being able to reach him.

“Help !!!!!!!” Frodo said again, a little louder this time as he got down on his hand and knees and scurried across the broken cup and saucer to the safety he sought under the table.   He was only briefly aware of a stinging sensation to a few places on his knees.  His scalded hand was protectively tucked against his chest, the burn already making the young hobbit hold back tears of pain.

Strider was now trying to bend over and talk soothingly to the young hobbit that seemed hurt and very afraid of him.   Somehow things had not gone as he had planned and he blamed himself for the young one’s pain and fright.  He had to make amends quickly.

Bilbo had yet to hear his nephew’s cries for help, only stirring slightly at the shout that Frodo uttered.   The old hobbit’s sleep had not been quite disturbed yet.

Samwise had heard his master’s plea for help and gave no hesitation in trying to scramble through the slightly open window to come to Frodo’s aid.

“Stay back, stay back,” Frodo said in alarm as he tried to curl in on himself as the outstretched hand of the stranger came closer and closer to him.

“I am not here to hurt you little one,” Strider said in a soft voice, seeing the lad obvious distress.  He finally managed to grasp a hold on the young hobbit’s shirt sleeve and tried in vain to pull him out from underneath the table so he could see how badly hurt he was.

“No!  Let me go!” Frodo demanded as he reached up with his hands and tried to pry loose the grip on his clothes.

By now Sam was fully in the room and ready to help his master from the assailant.  The sandy-haired hobbit swallowed slightly as he looked at Frodo’s attacker and noted that he was a big person.  The man was very tall.  Much taller than anybody Sam had ever encountered.

But Sam soon swallowed his fear as he heard his master’s cry to leave him alone.  Big person or not, this man was not going to hurt Frodo.

Strider was still slightly bend over as he held the frightened and trembling Frodo out in front of him, still trying to assess his injuries.  He was not prepared for the sharp sting of pain that resulted as Sam’s trusty forked trowel was now dug into his backside.

“OW,” Strider said as he whirled around to see what had struck him.   When he looked behind, he was not able to immediately see the reason for his pain.

Sam’s small, stocky body was shadowed by his own large frame.

The sting had made him loosen his grip on Frodo’s shirt, but as he turned back to look at the young hobbit, he noted the paleness of the little one’s face.  He could see the boy was swaying slightly on his feet and didn’t look too well at all.

Strider now went to readjust the hold he had on the young hobbit to prevent him falling to the floor, but his actions only seemed to make things worse.  His hands had made a more of a pushing motion towards Frodo rather than preventing him from fainting.

Frodo felt the slight push, but with his unsteady stance, was more than he could handle and he now fell back towards the floor with a audible groan.  The groan was quickly replaced by a yelp of pain as he had tried to stop the fall and used his injured hand to support his weight.   The hand was now throbbing from the effort and fresh tears of pain welled up in Frodo’s eyes.

Sam’s anger had grown as he watched the stranger push his master over onto the floor.  The man had already scared the young hobbit and had tried to bring harm on him.  Sam was not about to let the man’s actions go unanswered.

Once again he thrust his garden trowel towards Strider’s backside, this time with a little more strength behind it.

“OW!”, Strider repeated, a hand quickly rubbing slightly at the pained area as he felt another assault on his body.  This time his hand snaked up and caught a hold of the collar of the responsible party.

By now Bilbo had heard the various pains and shouts coming from the kitchen.   When he came running in he was greeted with an unbelievable scene before him.

Frodo was still laying on his back on the floor, clasping his injured hand up and under his shirt.

Strider was standing in front of his nephew and struggling in the Ranger’s grip, threatening trying to swipe at the man with his garden tool was Samwise Gamgee.  The little hobbit’s face was red from anger as he demanded that the big person let him go.   Strider was careful enough to hold Sam just out far enough to prevent anything else happening.

“Good morning Strider,” Bilbo said in an amused tone of voice.  “I see you already have everything under control,” he added, much to the displeasure of the Ranger.   Bilbo now bend down to Frodo and started talking soothingly to his nephew as he assessed the damage.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Chapter Seven – Half-Tail

Despite his overwhelming sense of fatigue, Little Joe’s sleep was not a peaceful one that night.   The cold seemed to seep deep within him until he could scarcely stop from shivering.   The only heat present was that from the fever that still burned within him.

By dawn’s early light, Joe opened slightly glazed eyes to greet the day.   He was feeling incredibly light headed from lack of food and sleep.   The pain in his hand had dulled to a constant throb but as the boy gazed down at the injury itself, he truly began worried.

The skin was now grotesquely swollen and the bruising more prominent in the early sunshine, varying from dark black and purple to a motley shade of gray where the skin was least discoloured.    Joe gathered all the strength he could muster and walked slowly down to the small waterhole he had taken a drink from the night before.

Luckily for him, the water was icy cold due to the over night chill.   He winced slightly as he placed the injured limb in the frigid water and almost made a move to pull his hand back out again.

But Joe was truly afraid of his hand’s appearance and was worried what sought of damage had been done to his hand.    He was a little frightened that the doctor wouldn’t be able to fix it properly and he might lose some permanent use of his left hand.

Joe looked up from his submerged hand when the chestnut horse made a soft noise as if gesturing good morning to his young master.  Although the night had been cold for both animal and human, the horse seemed to have come through it better.   He showed very little sign of any distress from the previous night and now nibbled at some green grass shoots underneath the tree he stood beside.

It was only now that there was a movement amongst the rocks over yonder that the horse now made noises towards the pair of eyes it could see peering back at it.  At first the eyes made the horse take a few steps backwards as if ready to flee, but it was only as the creature started to stir further and moved forward that the horse determined he was of no real threat.

Joe looked towards where the horse keep it’s attention and noted a small animal coming out from the niche in the rocks.   It took a few seconds to recognize the animal as a cat of some kind.

A few more seconds and Joe was able to tell that it was a mountain lion cub.   A very young one, possibly only three or four months old at the most and that’s why the horse had decided that the cub’s size was of no real threat.

Joe’s dull, bloodshot eyes lit up slightly at the small fuzzy animal and he held out his right hand and made slightly clicking noises with his tongue and teeth, gesturing for the cub to come forward.

At first the cub took a couple of steps backwards, a bit wary of the human boy’s presence.    It was now on closer observation that Joe was able to see that the cub was injured.

Instead of having a normal inquisitive like tail that didn’t stay still, this little cub only had about a foot long stump of a tail.   There was dried blood on the end signalling that the injury was only very recent.

Joe beckoned for the cub to come closer again and this time after hesitating and almost taking a step back, the mountain lion put the foot in front of him and moved closer to the smaller human.

The cub was finally close enough for Joe to reach out with his uninjured right hand and place it on the soft fur of the cub’s back.   The cub made a small mewing sound at the strange touch.

Joe now began to stroke the little cub’s back in an attempt to gain it’s trust.   The cat began to relax and enjoy the boy’s hand through his fur.    Joe now pulled the cat’s small furry body onto his lap and continued the stroking action, finding it therapeutic for both the cat and himself.

The cat’s fur felt so soft under his fingertips Joe said inwardly to himself.    The little cub began making slight purring noises as it lapped up the attention it was being afforded.

As the trust between animal and human grew, Joe’s hand moved from the cub’s back to the top of his head and down his front legs.  Joe was careful to avoid the injured tail, knowing that it might be still hurting the cub.    There were no flies around the wound due to the coolness of the morning, but he could still see the dried blood and pieces of torn skin surrounding the stump.

“I think you should be called Half Tail Joe whispered to the cub.  But the cub didn’t hear the words spoken as its eyes began closing and the small body began fully relaxing at the boy’s touch.

After a few minutes, Joe realised that the cub was asleep.   He gently moved the cub from his lap and placed it on top of the pile of leaves he had used as a pillow the night before.

Joe now looked over towards the horse he had ridden and noted that it was happily munching away at some grass it had found not too far away.  “Well at least one us is getting breakfast this morning,”  Joe said grimly as his stomach grumbled loudly at its emptiness.

Joe decided to sit back against the large rock while he waited patiently waited for the horse to eat his fill.   He was in no particular rush to get going this morning even though he had had definite plans the night before.    He began wondering whether he should turn back despite the trouble he would find himself in.

The pain in his wrist flared again, only adding to these feelings.   At least if he went home he could sleep in a nice soft warm bed.    The nice soft bed may be even more inviting if he got the tanning he almost expected off his father when he did get home.

Looking down at the little mountain lion cub, Joe’s attention was drawn away from his own pain and loneliness to the cub’s injured tail.    It really did look as if it needed some attention to stop it from getting infected.  He didn’t have any supplies with him to use, but the water in the stream had been nice and cold when he had submerged his own hand.

Joe now slowly got to his feet, the weariness and heat his body felt still very evident as he used the rock briefly to steady himself.  Joe now tore a piece of cloth from the right sleeve of his shirt and dipped it into the cold water.   He wrung out the excess moisture and walked back to where the little cub was peacefully sleeping.

Joe knelt beside the little furry ball and gently placed the damp cloth on the bloodied stump of what was left of the cat’s tail.   He was unprepared for the reaction he was about to receive.

Without warning, the little cub suddenly came awake with a start at the pain that the cold, wet fabric caused to his tail.    He used the only instincts he knew and lashed out with his claws at the source of the discomfort.  The cub had yet to grow any adult claws, but the ones he had were sufficiently sharp to slice easily through the young skin of the boy’s arm.

Joe yelped out with fright as he attempted to jump back from the agitated cub.    He felt something warm and sticky on his arm and now saw three long gashes down his upper arm where his shirt had been torn.

Joe dropped the piece of sleeve he had been using on the cub and attempted to pick it up with his injured left wrist.   He was going to use the other end of it to stop the blood coming from the claw marks but stopped up short at the sudden wave of pain that he caused my moving the injured wrist.

Joe looked up slight, his damp curls falling over his forehead due to his fever, to where the cub was now sitting.   The cub had moved quite a few feet away from the boy but had briefly stopped and sniffed at stump of his tail.    He now looked back at the human who had caused the pain.

As the brown eyes of the cub met and locked with the glassy green ones of the boy, there was a look of understanding between the two.   The boy didn’t speak and the cat didn’t make any noise.   There was no further physical contact between them, but somehow both of them felt a distant connection with each other.

With that the cub turned and ran back into niche it had been hiding in the night before.

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

The little chestnut horse that Joe had been riding, now walked over towards his young master who was still kneeling on the ground, gritting his teeth at the pain through his wrist and the dull ache from the scratches on his arm.

Joe’s head was hurting from the headache he had caused by the fever that was present. And whilst his forehead felt hot to the touch, the rest of him felt incredibly chilled still.

Joe now started to realise that all of the symptoms he was feeling was due to his injuries.    It was about now that Joe made the decision he should mount the horse and try heading back to Virginia City and his family.

The little horse wasn’t standing too far away from Little Joe and when it recognized, the gestures from the boy’s hand, it obediently walked towards him.   Joe was grateful that he didn’t have to walk any sort of distance to get to the horse.  At the moment, the world was very hazy to him indeed and he found himself leaning against the wide berth of the horse’s rump just to stay on his feet.

Joe used a similar method to mount the horse as he had used at the livery stable, with three fingers inter-twined in the horse’s mane to gain the steadiness he needed.  But as soon as he was on the animal’s back, the boy found that from this height, the world only seemed to spin more.

Little Joe put his right hand to his temple and tried to massage the throbbing away with his fingers.    With a gentle nudge with his feet, the horse began to walk forward, back through the trees that they had passed the night before.   Joe watched through glassy eyes to make sure the horse was headed back towards the town, his strength was quickly waning and he hoped that he reached the town and his family very soon.

a few miles away:

 Ben and the search party had not had much sleep the night before but where determined to get started at first light.   They had forgone breakfast to save time and only had last night’s brewed black coffee to fill their bellies as they mounted their saddled horses and headed out once again in search of Little Joe.

 They had only gone about ten miles past their campsite when they spotted a lone horse standing alone the long, quite a way in front of them.     There didn’t appear to be a rider at first, but then upon second glance, it looked as though there was.   The rider however, looked to be laying over the horse’s neck rather than sitting upright in the saddle.

 Ben’s heart filled with anxiety and anticipation that this might be his son they were looking for.  If it was truly Little Joe and his horse, Ben’s worry now only doubled at the sight of the motionless rider.   Ben now spurred Buck into a full gallop to get closer to the horse in front of the search party.

Adam, Hoss and Roy had quickly followed Ben as they saw him race towards the inert rider and mount.   It looked so out of place to see a horse just standing there on the roadway, in the middle of nowhere.

“Joseph,” Ben shouted as he jumped off his horse before it had barely pulled up beside the chestnut one.    He could see the curly head slumped over the horse’s neck did indeed belong to his missing boy.  He was alarmed even more though when there was no response to his call or his shouting.

Ben was now close enough to reach out for his son and immediately felt the warm radiating from the small body.   Adam and Hoss were now standing beside their father, both equally concerned by the lack of response from their younger brother.

“Joseph can you hear me boy?” Ben asked, almost pleading with the boy to open his eyes.   “Oh boy, what has he done to you?” he added when he saw the streaks of dried blood down the boy’s right arm and the torn sleeve of his shirt.

Ben tried to gentle awaken his injured son again and was rewarded by the curly head lifting slightly and looking back at him with dull, glassy green eyes.  “Hi Pa,” Joe managed to croak, the effort almost too much for him.

“He didn’t mean to do it Pa,” Joe now said, meaning the cat’s scratches to his arm. He didn’t want Ben to get angry at the little mountain lion cub.  The cub had only been doing what came naturally to it when it felt threatened or hurt.

Ben looked back at the boy with astonishment at first.  He thought the boy meant Mr Watson the teacher.    But before he could ask another question, Joe’s strength finally came to an abrupt end and he gasped out loud as Joe all but tumbled out of the saddle and into his father’s arms.    Ben had scarcely recovered enough to catch his son as he fell.

“Quick boys, give me a blanket to wrap him in,” Ben cried out as he looked down at his son’s unconscious face.   He could see beads of sweat forming on the boy’s forehead from the fever that was present, but he could feel the trembling from the rest of his body, signalling he may have caught a chill from the overnight temperature.

Hoss quickly untied his bedroll and tossed Ben his warm blanket to wrap around Joe’s body.  “Is he alright Pa?” he now asked, knowing it was a silly question before the words left his lips.  He could see the blood on his brother’s arm and noted the fever glazed eyes before he had fainted.

Adam was also worried about his brother’s condition, but his attention was drawn to the injured wrist that was now very discoloured and swollen.    He swallowed hard to think that they may have been too late in finding Joe before further injury was caused to his hand.   Would he ever be able to write with it again, left-handed or not Adam found asking himself secretly.

“Here Pa, try and get some water into him,” Adam suggested, noting that there was no canteen tied to the chestnut horse.  He wondered how long Joe had been without food and water.  Probably most of the night and certainly since he left Virginia City he reasoned.

Ben took the canteen from his eldest son and whilst Hoss helped to hold Joe, gentle trickled the water over the boy’s lips and into his mouth.  Only small amounts at first due to the boy’s unconscious state.   He didn’t want him choking.   That would only sap his already depleted strength.

Thankfully, the group could see Joe’s throat working slowly to swallow the water. Ben stopped the process when he was satisfied that Joe had enough in him to see him through to Virginia City.  It was only a relatively short distance, but Joe was obviously in need of urgent attention.

“I’ll ride back as fast as I can and tell Paul to get ready Ben,” Sheriff Roy Coffee now offered and spurred his horse into a gallop towards Virginia City at Ben’s slight nod of gratitude.

Hoss held his brother for Ben while his father mounted, then making sure that his sons was safely secured on the saddle in front of him, tucked the blanket tails around Joe to keep him warm for the remainder of the ride into town.

The trio of horses now rode as quickly as Ben dared to Virginia City.  Joe’s small sleeping form was almost invisible as he laid against his father’s embrace and under the cloak of the blanket.  The whole family just prayed that the boy would be okay once they got him back to Paul.

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

The time was approximately 10 am that morning, when Ben and his boys rode down the street of Virginia City towards the doctor’s office.    The ride though only a short distance in miles, had been a very long one for Ben’s heart to bear knowing that his son was sick and hurt.

“Here they come,” Roy Coffee shouted to Paul, who quickly strode out of his office and stood on the edge of the wooden decking.

Ben pulled up along side of the hitching rail in front of the doctor’s office.  Adam got of his own mount and now tied both horses to the railing.

He hasn’t moved at all since we started riding back here Paul,” Ben found himself explaining to the doctor as Adam now took his unconscious brother from Ben’s horse and began carrying through to the doctor’s office.

“Lay him down here, Adam,” Paul said quickly, forgetting all about idle conversation and concentrating on the condition of the patient in front of him.

Adam did as he was requested,  he too alarmed at the amount of heat he could feel through the blanket.   The shivering Ben had felt earlier had now been entirely consumed by the fever in Joe and he wasn’t quite sure whether that was a positive sign or not.

“Has he been conscious at all Ben?” Paul asked.

“Only for a few seconds back when we first found him doctor.  It took a few attempts to get him to rouse.   We found him slumped over the horse’s neck.  I am not sure how long he and the horse had been standing there before we arrived.” Ben explained.

“Did he seem to recognize you at all?” Paul enquired.

“Yes Paul he did, you won’t believe it but he asked me ‘Not to be angry at him’ Ben said as he repeated the few brief words Joe had spoken.   “That’s all he said and then collapsed and fainted into my arms.”

“Don’t worry Ben, we will fix him up, you’ll see,” Paul said, trying to reassure his friend.   He could see that Ben was almost beside himself with guilt and worry over Joe’s condition.   “Hoss and Adam why don’t you see if you can get something to eat and then wait outside while your father and I attend to Joe.”

Hoss and Adam were about to object, wanting to be there to help out as much as possible.  “And get something for your father as well, he looks as though he could use it too,” Paul said as he saw the lines of tiredness around Ben’s eyes.

Hoss and Adam reluctantly agreed, for their father’s sake.  Because like them, they knew all too well that Ben would even consider taking time for himself before Joe was better again.   They now left to go to the hotel and get some meals ordered up for themselves and their father.

For the next half an hour, as Adam and Hoss waited impatiently outside for news of how their brother Joe was doing:  Inside Ben and Paul worked together as a team to assess the injuries of the little boy and make him as comfortable as they could.

“These gashes here were made by an animal Ben,” Paul said as he expertly examined the claw marks the mountain lion cub had made on Joe’s arm.  “They are not very deep fortunately,  but they need cleaning out thoroughly all the same to avoid infection.   Animals bites and scratches can be quite nasty if they are not treated quickly.”

“It makes my blood run cold to think that Joe was out there all alone Paul and was anywhere that he could have come across a wild animal,” Ben said as he gently used a ball of cotton wool in a solution the doctor had prepared to clean the scratches.

“It’s not your fault Ben,” Paul said, trying gently to admonish his friend and get him to let go of the guilt he was holding onto with an iron grip.  “That teacher has a lot to answer for as far as I am concerned.  We are just lucky that you found Joe so quickly.”

While Ben went about cleaning out the scratches on Joe’s arm, Paul now could go about taking a look at the boy’s wrist.  It obviously needed the most attention and was more than likely the cause of Joe’s fever.

Paul noticed that the wrist itself was still protectively held against Joe’s chest, even in sleep.  He looked quite concerned at the amount of discolouration and swelling, but didn’t voice his opinion out loud.    He used his finger and thumb to try and carefully pry it out in the open so he could take a closer look.

But even that slight movement caused Joe to release a moan at the pain that resulted. He started to turn his head from side to side as it rested on the pillow and attempted to pull his injured wrist away from the doctor’s probing touch.

“It’s alright son,” Ben cooed to his son as he brushed the damp curls away from his forehead, trying to help him cope with the pain but allow the doctor to do his job.

“No don’t!,” Joe said in his fevered sleep as Paul attempted to examine his wrist again.  “You can’t do this,” he said caught somewhere between reality and his subconscious about what Mr Watson had done.

“I need to examine this wrist, Ben,” Paul said in a serious tone of voice but understanding that Joe called out because he was in pain.  “I will give him a light sedative which should give him a break from the pain and allow me to set in while he sleeps.  When he wakes it should be splinted and bandaged and the pain should not be so bad.”

Ben nodded his head in agreement to the medication being administered to his son and watched as Paul prepared a small amount of clear liquid in a syringe.  He gently held his boy’s right arm still as the doctor inserted the needle and injected the fluid into Joe.

It didn’t take long for the medicine to work and although Joe never opened his eyes, his slight struggles ceased all together and his head lolled to one side on the pillow, signalling he had fallen asleep.    It almost brought tears to Ben’s eyes that he had to adopt harsh methods against his son because of the abuse and cruelty of others.

With his patient now sleeping soundly and oblivious to any examination, Paul now got on with the examination of the injured wrist.  He still took every care to be as gentle as possible although he knew that Joe wouldn’t be able to feel very much.

“It is definitely broken Ben, that’s why there’s so much swelling and discolouration to the skin,” Paul now commented as he continued his doctoring.   “It looks as though it has lost some of the inflammation around the bone.  That’s a good sign because it means that the break may only be a small one.”

“Will you need to splint it?” Ben asked, remembering the general cause of remedy for a broken bone.

“Yes, and with a boy Joe’s age that’s the best thing to do.  He may feel a little poorly now, but knowing this young man, once he is beginning to recover, he is undoubtedly going to knock his hand around by just doing general day to day activities,” Paul stated in earnest.

A little while later, Adam and Hoss could no longer stand to just stand outside and wait for news of how Little Joe was doing.  Adam silently turned the door knob and pushed the door open slightly to gaze in and watch what their father and the doctor were doing.

“What are you two doing in here?” Ben asked in mock sternness.  Paul could see the worried looks on two older boy’s faces and didn’t have the heart to send them back out of the room.

“We were just wondering how he was doing, Pa,” Adam said for the both of them. Hoss’s eyes were wide with concerned as he saw the amount of bandaging around his little brother’s hand.    He seemed so still.  Not the little brother he was used to.

As Ben looked down at his youngest son, Joe appeared to be still sleeping very soundly so he saw no reason that Adam and Hoss couldn’t see how their brother was doing, so long as they remained quiet and didn’t disturb him.

“He’s doing okay boys,” Paul answered for Ben.   “He needs a lot of rest and care over the next few days.  But he will okay after a while.”

“What about this fever Paul?  Is that anything to be overly worried about?” Ben now asked as he felt his son’s forehead and noted the fever still holding on.

“It’s probably a little higher than it should be for such an injury Ben, but given that he has spent a very cold night out on his own with no food and little water, it’s not out of the question.  I think he is suffering from a little bit of exposure to the elements but after a day or so the fever should be sufficiently lower if not gone altogether.” Paul said.

“Will he have to stay in town tonight doctor?” Hoss now asked.  He didn’t like the idea of his little brother having to stay in the doctor’s office.  Hoss wanted him back home in his own warm bed where the rest of the family was.

Paul looked briefly at Ben and winked slightly before giving his reply, “Well Hoss, normally I would say yes he would have to stay here.  He is still a quite sick little boy. But given the amount of stress that he has been under the last couple of days, I think a strange environment such as this office or even the hotel would be unjust.”  “What he should have is his own bed with lots of good food and rest.  But there will have to be somebody watching over him, maybe more than one,” Paul suggested with a grin and a sparkle in his eye.

“Oh me doc, me,” Hoss declared with excitement.  He wouldn’t have thought of anything more he would like to do than to take care of Little Joe when he was sick and hurt.  He was sure that big brother Adam would be there to help out too and Pa.

Adam smiled at his larger younger brother and then at the doctor and his father. He knew that the doctor was trying his best to cheer Hoss up as well as the rest of the family about taking care of Joe.   Hoss was well known for his care of injured and sick animals.

Adam was sure that Hoss’s care for Little Joe would benefit both Hoss and Joe.  And he knew that if he and Hoss helped out, then their father would have an excuse to get some rest of his own and take care of himself too.

“Adam you go down to Charlie at the livery stable and tell him that we found Joe okay and to pass the word around.  After that can you organize to get a wagon from him to take your brother home,” Ben now instructed.

“Hoss I want you to go and collect Joe’s horse from the school and bring it back here. We can pull him along with the other horses as well,” Ben continued.  “While you two are doing that, the doctor and I will finish up here and get your brother ready to go home.”

Adam and Hoss just smiled at each other and then went to do exactly what was asked of them.     They were both bursting with happiness that Joe was going to be alright and home very soon.    This day was certainly turning out to be a happier one than yesterday had been.

After Adam and Hoss had gone to do their assigned tasks, Paul concentrated on making sure the splints around Joe’s wrists were in place correctly and the bandaging around them tight enough to prevent movement of any kind.

The doctor then wrapped a light bandage around the scratches that Ben had cleaned. He gave Ben a small bottle of the solution he had prepared and instructed Ben to use it twice a day to continue cleaning out the scratches on a daily basis.

“I will give you some powders for any pain Joe might have over the next day or so Ben, but after the swelling goes down on that wrist, I think he should be fine.   Give him only a small dose and see if that helps.    I have also given you two sleeping powders, just in case the trauma of what has happened starts making him have bad dreams or sleepless nights.  He really does have to rely on rest to get him back on his feet now.  It is the best medicine I can prescribe other then a great deal of love and understanding over the next few weeks,” Paul said to Ben.

“How much of an effect do you think this whole teacher thing will have on him, Paul?” Ben asked honestly.    Apart from the physical injuries he had been asked to endure, Joe had been humiliated in front of his class mates and made to feel an outcast.  He wanted to know how long before he got his Little Joe back again.

“I can’t answer you that right now Ben,” Paul replied truthfully. “Only time will tell how he handles the memories and flashbacks.  He may be jumpy around people at first, particularly strangers, so try and limit the number of visitors until he is fully recovered.   Just try and include him in the normal everyday activities of the household and I think he should bounce back fine.”

“I will come out to check on his wrist late tomorrow Ben,” Paul said as Adam and Hoss arrived back at his office, informing their father that the wagon was ready.  “I think he will sleep most of today and tomorrow anyway.   You might want to try and get some food into him once you get him home.  The roughness of the wagon might be enough to wake him gently once he is in his own bed.   Just a bowl of meaty broth or something light but filling at the moment.  He can have something more substantial once he has had a good sleep.”

“Thank you for everything Paul, truly,” Ben with meaning in the words.   Lord knew that this family had come to rely on the good doctor’s services and advice more and more all the time lately.

Ben now very gently lifted his deeply sleeping youngster from the treatment table and carried him close to his chest.   At the moment he felt as if he never wanted to let his boy out of his sight again.    He had felt so guilty about what had happened to Joe over the last few days and now had everything to be genuinely thankful for.

“You just get that boy home and show him how much he is loved Ben,” Paul answered.  “That’s all I ask in return,” he added.    Sometimes being all alone had it benefits. He had always been made feel welcome and part of the Cartwright family. He hoped that tradition continued for a good many years to come.

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

On the journey towards the Ponderosa, Ben had used his hat as much as possible to shade Joe’s face from the harsh sunlight that prevailed.  It was now just after 1pm and the sun was right over head as they made their way back to the ranch.

Adam had driven the wagon team with Hoss opting to ride beside the wagon on his own mount.     From time to time he would look back into the wagon to make sure his brother was doing okay.  Ben saw his son’s attempts and would gesture with his hand to let Hoss know that everything was just fine.

When they got to the ranch itself, Hop Sing came out at the sound of the wagon pulling up out front.   He had heard the conversation between the Cartwrights, Mr Scott and Joe’s friend Johnny.    When the family hadn’t returned that night, the little oriental man had lain awake much like the rest of the family out of worry for them all.

“Hop Sing will you get Joe’s room ready for me please,” Ben asked as he got down from the wagon and immediately went to lift his son out.

“Room already Mr Cartwright,” Hop Sing said with a smile.  He had made sure that the boy’s room was already prepared yesterday after they left for the school.  He also had a pot of broth already heating on the stove.  If it had turned out that it wasn’t needed then so be it, but Hop Sing knew from experience that it wouldn’t go to waste.

“Thank you Hop Sing,” Ben said, returning the smile.  He didn’t know what he would do without the little helper at times.   Hop Sing was more than just their house keeper and cook.   He too was a member of the Cartwright family.

Ben now walked through the front door as Adam opened it and made his way up the stairs towards Joe’s bedroom.  Making sure that he didn’t jostle the boy too much. He hadn’t come fully awake yet after the Doctor’s medication, but like Paul assumed, the ride in the wagon saw him open his eyes a few times just before they pulled up in the front yard.

Ben laid Joe down onto the bed and then went about removing the boy’s shoes. After he unwrapped his son from the blankets, he removed what was left of his torn shirt and threw it towards the door to be discarded later.

Hoss had gotten a bowl of cold water from Hop Sing after his father and Adam had taken Joe upstairs.  He also had a cloth and now, as the other went about making Joe more comfortable in the bed,  in between their fussing, Hoss tried his best to help out by wiping Joe’s still warm forehead with the damp cloth.

The coolness of the cloth seemed to revive Joe just that little bit more and he now moaned audibly for everyone to hear as he moved about slightly on the bed and tried to become with his surroundings.

Once Joe was dressed in a clean night shirt and his wrist was elevated on two pillows beside him, Adam helped prop him up into a sitting position.   Ben took the bowl of just warm broth from Hop Sing and tried to get his son to each some before he got too tired again.

Ben only managed to get about half a dozen spoonfuls across Joe’s lips before the boy’s head bowed, signalling that he was asleep again.   He had only opened his eyes to slits the whole time and made no attempt to talk to his family during that short period of half wakefulness.

At least they had gotten some nourishment into him Ben conceded.  They could try again when the boy was more awake and alert.  For now his stomach was satisfied and Joe seemed content enough just to sleep and regain his strength.

“Joe, are you okay?”  Hoss asked, not able to keep from asking the question.  He knew that getting his brother to talk might be too taxing for him right now.  But he still needed to know for his own peace of mind.   His father hadn’t voiced any objections to his asking and neither had Adam.

“Fine Hoss, just a little tired is all,” came the mumbled reply.  “Didn’t get my homework done yet Hoss, sorry,” he added.  “Will do it in the morning before school, promise.  Don’t tell Pa on me yet,” the boy said just as sleep stole him once again.

Ben couldn’t help but grin at the boy’s incoherent speech.   Obviously Joe had no idea of where he was at the moment and what had happened earlier in the day.  He certainly didn’t remember that it was school holidays tomorrow and that there wouldn’t be any homework for a few weeks at least.

“Don’t worry Hoss, it’s just all the medicine working in him that makes him sound a little confused,” Adam now said to Hoss.     However Hoss hadn’t even heard much of what his brother had said.  He was just happy to have him home again in his own bed and be with his family who loved him.   Starting tomorrow, Hoss made a solemn vow to show Joe just how much he meant that and make time to be with him.

For the rest of the day, Joe was left to rest as much as possible just like the doctor ordered.   Hoss had offered to spend the first few hours with his brother and try and cool him down slightly.

Adam and Ben had agreed mostly due to them seeing the desire and need for Hoss to get over his selfishness and guilt.  They too would have to do that themselves but they could do the late and early morning hours while Hoss slept.

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

By dawn’s early light the next day,  Adam was dozing in a chair beside his brother’s bed after relieving his father some hours ago.

Joe had remained asleep throughout the night and with the constant application of cool compresses to his forehead, his fever was now almost gone completely.   His forehead only slightly warm to the touch and part of that was probably due to his cocoon of blankets during the night.

Joe opened his eyes slowly and tried to focus his mind on where he was.   He turned his head slightly and now could make out the familiar looking furniture and ornaments that decorated his own bedroom.   He could scarcely hold back the gasp of relief that he felt once he realised where he was.

He looked over at the figure beside him and noted Adam sleeping in the uncomfortable chair.  His brother looked as though he had been there for quite some time and would wake up with a sore back and neck no doubt.

To get a better look around without waking his brother, Joe now attempted to pull himself up into a sitting position.   When he had first awoken, he had momentarily forgotten about his wrist or the scratches on his right arm.

Unfortunately he had mistakenly tried to put his weight instinctively on his left arm as was normal for him.    But he bit his lip and couldn’t hold back the cry of pain that he emitted when the wrist collapsed underneath him and fell back against the pillows.

Adam was startled awake by the cry of pain from his brother.  He immediately tried to put a restraining gentle hand on his brother to stop him from attempting to get up any further.   Joe was holding onto his bandaged arm with his eyes squeezed shut and a few tears were now trailing down his cheeks.

“Joe, are you alright buddy?” Adam asked softly with fresh concern over his brother.  They hadn’t quite counted on the fresh pain that Joe would feel first thing this morning when he awoke from his long sleep.    The medication that Doc Martin had given him had long since worn off.

“Yeah,” Joe said shakily as he tried to put the pain out of his mind.  It was very hard to do so though and he could help but wince quite a few more times as Adam helped to prop him up higher in the bed again.

Hoss now appeared at Joe’s bedroom door, drawn in by the sound of his pain.  He repeated the same question as Adam, “You okay Little Joe?” he asked as he sat on the other side of Joe’s bed.

“Thanks Hoss, yeah I will be okay,” Joe replied, but his face showed a very different truth.   Even after a long sleep, Joe’s eyes were still blood shot and his face still drawn at the mouth and eyes in tiredness.

“How about I get you some breakfast Joe?” Hoss now offered, sensing his own need for food but putting Joe first this morning.

“Maybe a little,” Joe admitted, as his stomach grumbled slightly at the mention of food.   “Thanks Hoss,” he added and gave an award winning smile that sent Hoss’s heart into cartwheels.   Hoss was so happy that his brother was a getting better.  He could scarcely hold all the happiness inside.   Hoss now went downstairs to get Joe’s breakfast.

“How else are you feeling Joe?” Adam now asked, knowing that the wrist was already brothering him.    He waited patiently for Joe to take check of all of his hurts before answering.

“Arm hurts some where that cat scratched me,” Joe now said in a uninterested tone of voice.  “But the rest of me feels okay.  Just a little tired still.” he admitted.

“What cat scratched you?” Adam asked now in confusion.   It was the first time he had heard anything about any animal being near Joe yesterday.

“Well while I was camped out near those rocks a little mountain lion cub came out. He had had his tail partly chopped off, that’s why I called him “Half-tail” Joe explained as he spoke all in a rush.   “I tried to clean the area up with a piece of my shirt, but he got a bit frightened and that’s when he scratched me.   He didn’t mean to.    He was just hurt.  Anyway he ran off into the rocks again and I haven’t seen him again.”

Adam tried to take in everything that his brother was telling him.  At least now they had a plausible explanation for the torn shirt sleeve and the scratches on his arm.  Somewhere in Joe’s story there was the whole reason behind it all.   Joe just spoke too fast for Adam to fully understand what had happened out there while he was all alone.

Hoss now walked back into the room, holding a tray of freshly made toast, a boiled egg and a glass of orange juice.    He placed it in front of Joe and waited to see if his brother approved of the morning menu.

Joe gave his thanks in return and to show his appreciation, started eating what was on the tray.  Whilst he was eating, Adam reiterated to Hoss, the parts of Joe’s story that he had understood.

Hoss’s worry had turned into envy when Adam told about Joe’s encounter with the young mountain lion cub.

“Well Good Morning all of you,” came a voice from the bedroom door.  Everyone turned their gaze towards the source and found Ben smiling back at them.  The sight of his three son’s sitting around enjoying each other’s company for the first time in weeks was one to behold indeed.

“And how are you young man?” Ben asked his youngest as he walked over to Joe. He was grateful to see that Hoss and Adam had been taking extra care of their brother and that they had already seen to his breakfast needs.

“Fine, Pa,” Joe said quietly before putting another piece of toast in his mouth.

Adam once again found himself telling Ben about Joe’s encounter with the mountain lion and how he had gotten the scratches on his arm.   Ben then informed Adam what the doctor had said the day before about keeping them extra clean and bandaged for the next few days.

Ben was about to motion for some time alone with his youngest son when Hop Sing appeared at the door.   “Sheriff Coffee need to see you downstairs Mr Cartwright.”

“Thank you Hop Sing,” Ben replied.  “Joe I will be back to talk to you in a minute, I promise.”   He briefly even contemplated whether he should talk to Joe first and ask the Sheriff to wait or come back later.  Especially seeing the promise he had made to himself about spending more time with the boys and putting them first from now on.

Upon consideration though, Roy didn’t come out to the ranch very often just for a social call.  He had better see what it was all about.  Then he could spend some quality time with Joseph without being interrupted.

“Good Morning Roy,” Ben greeted the lawman, stepping aside from the door to let him in. “What brings you out here this early in the morning?”

“Sorry to disturb you so soon again Ben, I know Joe only just came home from the doc’s yesterday,” Roy said, playing with the brim of his hat out of nervousness of the news he had come to deliver.

Ben could see that Roy was having a difficult time getting out whatever was on his mind.    “Okay Roy, out with it, what’s got you all tongue tied?” Ben asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well Ben,  I know you got your hands full getting Little Joe better at the moment, but I thought you might like to know………….,” he started to say, leaving the question unfinished.

“Like to know what?” Ben asked good naturedly.  Something inside told him that whatever it was,  it couldn’t be particularly good news.  But Roy was only the messenger, not the source.

“The judge spoke to me about that teacher Mr Watson this morning,” Roy said, leaving it for Ben to digest that part of the conversation first.  “He said that even though he assault Little Joe, he didn’t think it was very likely that the man would get any real jail time for it,” Roy now continued.   He could see the look on Ben’s face change a dozens times during that sentence.   A dozen different emotions, but only one outcome:  anger and disappointment.

“He’s not going to let him get away scott-free is he?” Ben said, trying to keep his temper in check like had taught his sons.   He didn’t even want to think that all the pain and anguish that Little Joe had gone through was for nothing.

“No Ben, he will get some hefty fines for his deeds and probably ordered to do a good deal of community work when he gets back home,” Roy said, indicating that the man would go free.

“He’s letting the man go back to his former life?” Ben said as he felt the outrage pouring out of him but not willing to put the feelings into words or actions.  “Doesn’t he realise that the man will only go back teaching the way he has to Joseph’s class?”

“Yes, and the judge said that he would do everything he could to see that the man didn’t teach again anywhere.  But he also said that in reality that was totally out of his jurisdiction and he doubted be could get the school board to just sack the man. There are a lot of other teachers in the system that victimise their students for various reasons including left-handedness.” Roy said as he gave the judge’s speech.

“I am more sorry than I can say Ben, I really am,” Roy stammered, not really not knowing what else to say that would make the situation more just for the family.

“Thanks Roy, I appreciate you coming all the way out here to tell us,” Ben said knowing that it wasn’t the lawman’s fault.   It was supposed to be called a justice system but right now that sense of “justice” seemed a long way off.

“How is Joe, Ben?” Roy asked, genuinely concerned for the boy.  He had seen the sick state they had found him in earlier on the road out of Virginia City.

“Well he’s awake a few hours earlier than the doctor said he would be Roy,” Ben replied, thankful for the change of topic.   “I don’t think that will last long though.   I was just about to talk to him about what happened when you knocked on the door.”

“I will let you get back to him then Ben.  Sure glad he is going to be okay.  Tell him I said hello for me and hope he gets well real soon,” Roy said as he went towards the door and bid Ben good day.

Although he wasn’t happy with the outcome, he didn’t want to keep his son waiting any longer.   They would just have  to deal with the outcome of the teacher’s fate as time went by.  For now he decided to keep the information from his young son until he was doing better physically and able to understand why people made the decisions they made.

Ben now climbed the stairs towards Joe’s room again.  As he got nearer, he could overhear the two voice of his two older son’s still in the room.  He then could hear the sound of giggling and laughing and that brought a smile to his face and made his heart feel a little lighter before he walked through the door.

“I told ya to keep still Little Joe,” came Hoss’s voice.

“Both of you aren’t making this any easier,” came the deeper baritone voice of Adam.

Ben decided now was the time to see exactly what his three sons were up to.

“It would be better if you weren’t tickling me Hoss,” Joe exclaimed and then began giggling again.   Ben could now see all three sons sitting on the bed.  The tray that had held Joe’s breakfast was still sitting on the boy’s lap, but now there was a large sheet of white paper covering the surface.

In Adam’s left hand was a large pencil.  Hoss was gently holding Joe’s right hand splayed onto the paper and Adam was trying to trace around the little boy’s fingers.

“There all finished,” Adam declared and Hoss let go of Joe’s hand so he could lift it from the paper.     They all stood staring at the outline for a few seconds.  One or two of the fingers looked slightly on the too skinny side and the thumb looked way too long.    They all looked at each other and began laughing at the time they were spending together.  Joe didn’t care what they were doing, so long as he was doing it with the two brothers he adored most.

Ben now looked at Adam for a second, their eyes locking so that Adam knew his father had some information to share with him later on with the younger two boys were not listening.

Whatever it was, Adam could see that it didn’t sit well with his father, but Ben was trying hard to make an effort for his brother Joe.   They all had to pour their efforts into helping him get over this ordeal and becoming a family again.

“Come on Hoss, you and I can start on those chores outside,” Adam said, slightly prodding his younger brother so that Pa and Joe could talk.  Or Joe could get some more sleep, which ever came first.

“Sure Adam,” Hoss replied, sensing the need for his younger brother and his father to have a father and son chat.

Hoss and Adam now walked out Joe’s bedroom, but curiosity got the better of both of them and what Pa might say to help Joe through his emotional pain and distress.  They now stole up beside the door, thinking that neither of them could be seen.  They almost held their breaths so that their father wouldn’t hide them either.

However, Ben smiled to himself.  He knew all three of his sons better than they thought he did.  He knew perfectly well Hoss and Adam were listening outside the door.  He didn’t mind though.  He hoped that somehow he could help his youngest son to start the healing process, but some of what he was going to say would be relevant to all of them.

Ben sat on the bed, but he waited for Joe to say the first words.  He was a little worried about what his son’s first question might be.  He could see the fatigue etch on the young boy’s face and knew it wouldn’t be long before Joe was needing to sleep again.

“I am sorry you had to come and find me Pa,” Joe said, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he said the words.  “At first I wanted to run away, but then after I did, I knew it was wrong and I didn’t want to do it anymore.  But by then I wasn’t feeling too great and it was harder than I thought trying to get back to town.”

“Tell me something Joseph,” Ben asked, trying to respond to his son’s comments.  “Why did you run away from the livery stable.   I know you were hurting son because of what Mr Watson did to you, but that wasn’t the whole reason you ran away was it?”

Joe could only look back at his father with amazement and shock at first.  How could this man come to know so much about him.  More than Joe could ever say he knew about himself.   He couldn’t remember saying anything about running away before his hand was hurt.   He decided it best to answer the question with honesty.

“I ran away because I heard those men talking about you being angry.  I thought you might be mad at me for leaving school early and then for taking the horse without permission,” Joe replied.  There were probably a few other reasons he had thought of back then that escaped his memory right now.

“Joseph, I know that you have been feeling a little bit lonely around here lately.  Maybe a lot lonely right?” Ben now asked and saw his son nod his curly head in a silent yes.

“And I am right in thinking that you were beginning to feel a little unloved around here?” he now added.   Again the boy nodded in reply.

“Well let me tell you a little secret son,” Ben began, knowing that his other two sons were listening intently.  “This was something that my father said to me when I was about your age.  And he said that it was a secret just between me and him, just like I am telling you now.”

“Daddy’s just don’t love their children every now and then, Joseph,” Ben continued seeing tears coming into his son’s eyes as he spoke the words.  “It’s love without end amen.”

“I will always try to be there for you Joseph,” Ben now said.  “And if I am not, I want you to remind me, okay?”

Little Joe couldn’t hold his tide of emotions back any further and collapsed his father’s broad chest, wrapping his good arm around him and snuggling against him as close as he could get.

In response, Ben wrapped his son with both arms and allowed his son to dwell in the safety of his embrace for as long as he needed to.     Ben could hear a few soft sniffles from the boy.  A few moments later when all was silent, he looked down and could see that Joe had fallen asleep.    Ben didn’t release his embrace straight away though.  He wanted to hold his boy.    Hold him through the good times and the bad.  Through all the happy times and the not so happy times.

Love without end…………… Amen

THE END – Except for the author’s notes below……………………

 Author’s Notes:

 Firstly, I finally reached the end YAYYYYYYYYYYY.

 Secondly, a few people may not be entirely happy with what did or didn’t happen to Mr Watson.  Let me explain why I wrote that he didn’t much of a punishment:    My Dad was born in 1938 and was left-handed, as was all of his family.    Even during his school years in the 1950’s, there was wide-spread victimisation of students who didn’t fit in, lagged behind a little in their studies, had the wrong skin colour or were left-handed.     Most of the teachers during that time and well before then, right back to Little Joe’s time were bound by their own sense of what was right and wrong with little or no fear of any reprisals or repercussions should they over step the mark between teacher or abuser.     And I still believe strongly that even back then there would have been little or no retribution for a fictional character like Mr Watson.

 Sorry if I disappointed some of you readers about him getting his just deserts and a good smack in the mouth by Ben and his boys.   

 Thirdly,  hope you enjoyed this story and hope you will read future one.

 Fourthly and finally – the little mountain lion cub Half-Tail will make a come-back. The story will be called The Mountain Lion.  It is not a sequel to Dead Man’s Canyon and will commence about 12 years from now when Joe is 19 or so.     I needed a way to introduce him when he was younger and thought this story was the perfect way to do just that.   He will survive his severed tail but will he remember the boy who afford him some tenderness when he was only a cub.   They find themselves as foes rather than friends.

JULES

Chapter Six – Missing

Little Joe Cartwright was slightly confused as he was currently walking down the main street of Virginia City.   The bright morning sunshine made him use his good arm to shield his eyes from the harsh light.

The sunshine together with the effects of the medicine that Paul had administered were making his eyes feel very sore at the moment.   Joe now sought somewhere more shady to get out of the direct light and get some relief for himself.    His wrist wasn’t hurting as much now but the swelling of the tissue around the area was quite noticeable.

Joe sought refuse inside the nearest building away from the sunshine.   It wasn’t until he let his mind adjust to the darkness and the surroundings that he recognized the livery stable.    The smell of horses and hay now invaded his senses.    His eyes were growing heavier and heavier and he didn’t quite have the energy to keep going at the moment.

It was to Joe’s relief that he saw nobody in the livery stable.   Normally the place was a hive of activity with people coming and going with their animals.  But today for some reason there was an eerie silence within.    He couldn’t even see Charlie, the stable keep who looked after the animals for people.

Joe looked in each of the stalls and was happy to see that the last one was vacant.  It looked like it had just had fresh straw forked into it and the fresh hay told Joe just how tired he was.   Because it was the last stall in the building, there was no window above to shine bright light in through the roof.

Joe sank gratefully onto the soft bed of fresh hay near the corner.    The shadows hid his small frame from the front of the stall.   With a tired sigh the boy lay his head back onto the soft material underneath him and with just a few brief flutters, his eyelids closed and he drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

Joe would remain undetected in his place of rest for quite some time.

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

 Ben and his two boys had ridden at a quick pace to Virginia City.    They didn’t want to leave Joe in the company of the man that had hurt him any longer.  Richard Scott and his son Johnny were a few steps behind on their own mounts, ready to assist the Cartwright family where they could.

Ben pulled Buck to a halt outside the school house and strode purposefully towards the front door before anybody else had even dismounted from their horses.   Adam and Hoss didn’t take long though to follow their father to the classroom.

As they got to the front door, not only did they hear the distinct crying of children, but in front of their eyes, they were able to see Joe’s school friends huddled together on the opposite wall.   They were distressed and cowering away from the man in front of them wielding a ruler in his hand.

Ben assumed the man with the ruler must have been this Mr Watson who had been Joe’s teacher for the past three days.   Watson had yet to note the presence of others. He spun around startled when he felt another hand grab at the ruler in his hand. At first he thought it must have been one of the class until he came face to face with the angry face of Ben Cartwright.

“You will release the ruler Sir, or I will break your hand,” Ben threatened, without knowledge that Watson had already done as much to his youngest son.   Adam was now standing behind his father ready to add his muscle against the teacher if necessary.

Hoss went towards the frightened and distressed children and tried his best to console them.   A few of the kids recognized the big boy immediately and sought comfort and protection from their attacker.

Johnny Scott was now in the classroom and could scarcely believe what torment Mr Watson had forced his friends to endure while he was away.  His eyes were immediately scanning the children in front of him for Little Joe.

“Where’s Little Joe?” Johnny asked one of the little girls from the group.

“You heard him, what have you done with my son?” Ben demanded of the teacher. It wasn’t until now that Watson even suspected who the man was.   He had initially thought that the strangers had been brought to the school by the sounds of the children crying.

Watson now realised that this must be Joe’s father and he swallowed slightly as he looked back at the silvery-haired man.    He could see that Ben was in no mood for any delaying tactics or idle chit chat of any kind.

“I don’t know,” Watson found himself saying, not really knowing why he answered the way he did.

“He hurt Little Joe, Mr Cartwright,” one of the boys said on Watson’s behalf.

“Yes I know he did,” Ben answered, looking directly at the teacher as he replied.

“No you don’t understand Sir,” the youngster continued.   “He hurt him with the ruler.  He ran out a while ago.  I think he might have a broken hand.”

Ben now realised that the child was trying to say that the teacher had hurt his son again this morning.

“How did the man hurt Joe, Timmy?” Hoss asked the boy.

“Joe was trying to do his lessons when Mr Watson just came up and hit him with the ruler,” the boy said, barely able to contain his emotions.   “He hit him hard Hoss, I heard it.”

“Johnny you said that the teacher hit his legs with the ruler yesterday,” Richard Scott now asked his son.   “Are you sure it wasn’t his hand?”  he added, making sure that the abuse they were hearing of was only new.

Before Johnny could answer his father, hurried footsteps could be heard behind the Cartwrights, coming into the school house.  Everybody turned to see the worried and concerned faces of Sheriff Roy Coffee and Doctor Paul Martin.

“Ben, I am so glad I found you,” the doctor commented, almost out of breath from the running he had done from his own office.  He had seen Ben and his boys approaching the school on horseback.    He had stopped briefly to tell Roy about Joe’s accident and disappearance and about seeing Ben at the school.

“What are you doing here Paul and Roy?” Ben asked genuinely.  He hadn’t been to the Sheriff to tell him about Joe’s assault by the teacher yet and he didn’t think that Paul had been informed of any mistreatment yet.

“Paul came to tell me what happened after Joe ran away,” Roy answered.

“Ran away, what are you talking about?” Ben asked out of confusion.

Paul could see that Ben had come into the conversation at the tail end and decided it best to tell him what had happened from the start.    He proceeded to tell the family as fast as he dared about the hurt and injured Little Joe coming to his office in great distress.

The Doctor went on to tell Ben about how he had tried to get the youngster to calm down and the swelling and bruising that he had been able to see on Joe’s left hand.

The description they were being given seemed to fit in with what Timmy had told them about the teacher hitting Joe’s hand hard with the ruler.    If they had been concerned about his safety before arriving, they were now close to out of their minds with this new piece of information about fresh injuries and pain that Joe had been feeling.

“I managed to get him to swallow a small amount of medicine for the pain Ben, but when I went to get the splints for his wrists, by the time I came back into the treatment room, he was gone,” Paul explained.   “I wasn’t gone more than twenty seconds or so, but by the time I reached the front door of my office, I couldn’t even see him down the street.”

“What effect is that medicine likely to have on him and his frame of mind now Paul,” Adam asked, concerned that his brother was already wandering around with a considerable amount of pain for a small boy.

Now it seemed that his senses may be somewhat hazy from the pain killer that he had been given by the doctor.    Joe might not even know where he was let alone what direction to head in.  And where was he intending to go anyway?

“Well Adam, he was pretty distressed as I said when he came into my office.  The medicine was already working before I left to get the splints I needed.    If he has gone, I wouldn’t have thought he would get very far before tiredness would overtake him.   The medicine should help with some of the pain, but it won’t go away all together and that hand looked very badly swollen when he was holding it against his chest,” Paul answered.

Watson had heard all the details as it was told by the doctor.    His face never showed any feeling of remorse when they spoke about his striking the boy with the ruler.

“And what have you got to say for yourself?” Ben said, shaking the man by the front of his shirt slightly to make him answer the question.

“I tried to voice my concerns to you Mr Cartwright in a letter the day before yesterday, but that son of yours was a troublemaker from the outset and was determined to do exactly the opposite of what I thought was best for him.” Watson said without any emotion in his voice.

“What was best for him?” Ben said in a low angry voice.    “What was best for him?” he repeated, shouting the words fully into the teacher’s face.

“He wouldn’t write with his right hand Mr Cartwright.   The boy’s education would have suffered if I hadn’t tried to intervene and stop such a ridiculous practice.   You as a parent should understand such matters,” Watson now said, voicing his strong-willed opinions about his methods of teaching.

“Mr Watson, you listen and you listen well,” Ben warned.  “My son writes with his left hand because his is left-handed.    His writing does not need correcting so far as I am concerned.   As for suffering, you have struck my son with a ruler on two occasions.     Because of you my son is hurt and in pain.”

“Because of you my son had to seek medical attention from which he has now run away from in fright. Mark my words Mr Watson, if I don’t find my son within a very short period of time from now, you will begin to understand the true meaning of the word ‘suffering’.   Ben now released the man’s shirt but never took his eyes away from him.

“Pa we need to start searching for Joe,” Adam now said trying to get a search party organized as soon as possible.  Hopefully if the medicine was working like the doctor said, they might be able to find Joe before he got too lost.

“Roy will you take this scum bag over to the jail and make sure he stays put until I can find Joe,” Ben now said to the Sheriff.  “Mr Watson, when I return with my son, I will endeavour to do everything in my power to stop you from ever teaching in a classroom again.

“But I have a stage to catch this afternoon,” Watson said indignant that these people thought they were going to stop him leaving this town.

“Mr, the only stage you are going to be catching is the prison wagon when it leaves Virginia City in a few weeks,” Ben said in a cool, icy voice.  “ I aim to see charges pressed against you for the assault you committed and the injuries that you have caused to my son.”

“Don’t worry Ben, I will take him over to the cells right now and get the search party underway,” Roy offered.   The Sheriff had known the Cartwright’s and Little Joe for a long time and hated to think of anything bad happening to the young boy.   He aimed to make sure that the teacher would be having a most uncomfortable night in his jail cell.

“If you like Ben, I will make sure my medical equipment is all ready for when you bring Joe back to my office,” Paul Martin now suggested.  It was no secret that the doctor was not a competent rider and he would only slow any search party down.

“Thanks Paul, I appreciate it,” Ben said but his mind was already on the whereabouts of his youngest son.    “Where would he go Paul?” he asked without even realising it.

It was now that Johnny Scott decided to tell Joe’s family about his secret.   “Mr Cartwright, I don’t know if I should be telling you this or not but Joe told me of a place he might like to visit.”

“Where Johnny?” Hoss now asked anxiously, kneeling in front of Joe’s friend and hoping he knew the answer to everyone’s burning question.

“Well, I don’t know if he would really go there.  It is only a little way away but if he is hurt, then maybe he couldn’t make it that far,” Johnny started to say.    He could see the faces of the adults around him and their real need to find Joe quickly.

“But for the last couple of weeks, Joe has been talking about your happy place Hoss,” the boy now said.   “Dead Man’s Canyon.    Joe’s was saying how much he would like to go there.”

“Even that place seems a little bit out of the way Ben,” Paul Martin now interjected.  He rather thought that the search for Little Joe would find him laying down somewhere for a rest in town.  “He could have gone in any number of directions.”

“Maybe Paul, we can’t be sure and can’t afford to take risks,” Ben now said as he thought where to start searching first.   “We can start having a look around the areas of town that we think Little Joe might have gone.   Then after an hour or so if we can’t find him we can head out of town a little and up towards Dead Man’s Canyon.”

“It’s a long walk from here for a little boy but he might get part of the way by dark if he has truly gone in that direction,” Adam now added to the conversation.   He too hoped like his father that Joe would be found in Virginia City somewhere.     The road to Dead Man’s Canyon wasn’t the best for travelling at anytime and especially for one hurt and alone boy of Joe’s age.

“I would be glad to help out with the search Ben, but I would like to take my son home first,” Richard Scott now stated.    The emotions of the day were clearing playing out across the young boy’s face as well as his classmates.

“By all means Richard,” Ben agreed.  “Hoss why don’t you take the smaller children home to their parents and tell them that school has been let out early.  When your finished, you can help us look for your brother.”

Hoss nodded his head at his father’s request and started taking a couple of the children by the hand and leading them out of the classroom.  A few of them still shrank back behind Hoss’s larger frame until they were far enough out of the reach of Mr Watson.

Roy now started taking Watson over to the jailhouse but promised Ben he would be back shortly with as many people as he could find.

While they waited for Roy to return, Ben, Adam and Paul now set to work about making plans for the search for Little Joe.

When Roy did return to the school house, much to his shame he had only been able to extract the help of his deputy Clem for their search.    He apologised for the lack of help offered by the citizens of Virginia City but added that a few mothers had offered to keep an eye out for the youngster from their own doorsteps and front yards.

Ben told the Sheriff that he had done as much as he could and although small in number,  they would manage as best as they could and cover as many areas as thoroughly as possible within the shortest possible time.

No matter what, Ben Cartwright and his son Adam resolved themselves to doing everything they possibly could to finding Joe.    They wouldn’t rest until he was safely tucked away in his own bed and had been seen to by Paul.

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

At about the time that his friends and family were making efforts to try and find him, Little Joe awoke from the short sleep he had fallen into at the livery stable.

He had been awoken mainly by the pain in his wrist that seemed to be now as bad as when it had first happened.    The medicine that Doc Martin had made him swallow was no longer working it’s magic.

Joe sat on the straw for a few minutes trying to get his bearings.   There was enough residual effect from the pain killer to make his head still a little fuzzy.  His eyes still felt gritty and sore and he still felt incredibly tired.

Joe was suddenly startled by the sound of voices inside the livery stable.  He didn’t know who they were and he didn’t recognize them immediately.   He was worried about what they might say or do if they found him there in the stable without a reason.  He curled himself up against the wall of the stable as much as possible and used the darkness as his shield against being seen or noticed.

“Hear that Ben Cartwright is still out looking for his youngster,” came one of the voices.

“Yeah, that’s what Sheriff Coffee said when he was here a while ago.   Said Ben was angrier than he had even seen,” the second voice responded.

“I’d hate to be in his shoes right about now,” the first voice stated, meaning the fate of Mr Watson the teacher.

For a very confused seven year old though, the words he heard seemed to tumble all together somehow until he was sure that they were talking about his family being angry about him missing from the school house.

Joe didn’t know why his father had come looking for him in the middle of the day.   Part of him sagged in relief that his Pa had come to town.   If only he weren’t angry at him he would be able to tell Pa what Mr Watson had done to him.

But the man had just said that Ben was angry about his missing boy.  And somehow the Sheriff was now involved which made Joe think he was in trouble even more.  He didn’t know if he could face whatever was in store for him.

Maybe he could go away for a little while until things calmed down at home.  If they began to miss him then maybe they wouldn’t be so angry anymore and he could come home.  But where could he go?   He didn’t have any food or even a horse to go anywhere.    To add to his worries, his wrist began throbbing in earnest again.

Then he suddenly remembered where he was.  The Livery Stable.  Of course, there were horses here.    None of them belonged to him but if he just borrowed one for a little while it would surely be okay, Joe persuaded his inner self.   His arm was sore but by morning maybe it wouldn’t be so sore anymore.    Hopefully he wouldn’t need to be away from his family for much more than a night before he was missed.

As if in protest at his thoughts, Joe’s empty stomach grumbled badly at the thought of an entire night without food.  He hadn’t had much today at all.

Before he could change his mind again, Joe waited for a few minutes to make sure that the two men he had heard were now gone.   He peeked out around the stall and began looking at the other stalls and what mounts they had that he might be able to use.

The first stall had a great big white horse that was snorting and stamping his feet about as though frustrated at being kept in such as place.    The stall next to that one had another horse that seemed very big.

Upon looking into the third stall, Joe began to think that he just might be able to ride that particular horse.  It was smaller than the first two but big enough to be ridden by an adult.    It’s coat was almost chestnut in colour.

Joe looked to check the coast was clear and then tiptoed across the straw floor of the livery stable and held out his uninjured hand to the horse.    The horse was a little bit wary of the strange hand at first but put it’s soft pink nose against the boy’s palm.

Joe had to stifle back a giggle at the tickling that the soft nose made on his hand.   He looked around worriedly, knowing he couldn’t let himself be found or he would be in serious trouble.

Little Joe looked down at his injured hand and winced at the pain that was still coming from the swollen wrist.   He knew that he would not be able to saddle the horse on his own.  He normally needed a little help to saddle his own pony back at the Ponderosa, even if he didn’t like to admit it.   Today he would have to ride without a saddle.

Joe now started to untie the halter rope that was tied to a hook on the pole between the two stalls.  Being one-handed, it took a few seconds for the loops to loosen enough for him.

The smaller horse didn’t seem to be worried by the fact that a strange little boy was untying and attempting to lead him out of the stall.    With relative ease and a small gentle pull on the rope, Joe found the horse following his command and now standing beside him outside of the stall.

The next tricky part about this whole thing Joe realised was how to mount the horse with only one hand.    He looked down at his left hand and the pain he was still feeling was enough to convince him that he would have to try with his right.

Joe now led the smaller chestnut coloured horse to the rear door of the stable.  Most horses and riders left via the bigger and wider doors near the front of the building.

Hopefully, if he used this particular door, nobody would see him or the horse he was borrowing for a while.    He was sure that they would understood he would bring the horse back safely.    Or at least that’s what his tired mind told him the person who owned the horse would think.

Little Joe now tucked a tuft of the horse’s mane in between the fingers of his right hand to give him more leverage and assistance to mount.     Even doing this though it was much more difficult trying to climb onto the animal’s back with only one hand.

After much effort and a few winces from the pain in his left hand as it made contact, Joe managed to sit straddled on the horse’s back.  It had taken much more out of him to get onto the animal and the boy now took some long deep breaths in order to stop himself falling off again.

With his mind slowly turning over with the words he had overheard, Joe was sure that his family would not be happy about how late he was.    He persuaded himself once again that the way to get his father forgive him for his lateness was to wait until his family missed him.

If they were worried about him and he finally came home with his injured hand, they would soon forget all about his tardiness and all about him leaving school early without permission.

Little Joe now nudged the horse forward into a slow walk away from the livery stable and towards the end of the town.   For the next half an hour he didn’t think of anything very much at all.  His body was beginning to slowly relax due to the soft rocking motion that the walking horse provided.   It was very difficult for the still tired and injured boy to stop from falling asleep over his mount’s neck.

After an hour, he found his mind thinking again which he was slightly grateful for.  The alertness of his mind would stop him from drifting off to sleep again.

Now Joe found himself wondering about what he was going to do for the rest of the night.   He had no supplies with him or the horse, not even a canteen of water to share  between them.   There was not a bite to eat and his stomach had already put in another round of protests a few miles back about feeling so empty.

The sun would soon be setting and with the darkness, the night temperature would soon begin to drop also.    Joe didn’t even have a match that he could use to start a campfire with.

He knew how.  Hoss had shown him a couple of times how to light a small fire.  But now that didn’t really make much of a difference because there wasn’t anything to light it with.

Joe tried to think of somewhere that maybe slightly sheltered and where there might be a waterhole nearby so that he and the horse could at least get a drink of water.  That’s when the place that he and Hoss had visited came to him: Dead Man’s Canyon.

 Little Joe didn’t quite remember how many miles it was to the ‘Happy Place’ that Hoss had taken him too.   It was quite a long time ago and the reason he remembered it so well was because of the good memories it provided him of with his brother.

 Joe looked around the landscape that he was currently travelling in and although he could scarcely keep from falling asleep, he tried to remember if any of the rocks or trees seemed familiar to him.     After another mile of trying to watch the things around him,  Joe was satisfied that he was at least travelling in the right direction to Dead Man’s Canyon.

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

Back in Virginia City, Ben was getting more and more worried about his missing and injured son.  He and his boys had been searching for over two hours now and no sign of the youngster had been found anywhere.

Together, each of them had searched every nook and cranny they could think would harbour a small frightened boy.   Until now they had come up empty handed each time.

The more they searched, the more frustrated and worried they all became, especially with the knowledge that Joe was hurt and in need of doctoring.  That made the need to find him even more urgent.

The family had talked to many citizens on the streets of Virginia City to see if they had seen Little Joe.    Many of them had not and shook their heads when asked.

A couple had agreed that they had seen him but they hadn’t noticed that he was hurting at all or even that it was unusual for him to be wandering the streets alone when he should have been in school.    They had not seen any need to keep track of what direction he had travelled in.

Ben now thought back to the conversation that he and the rest of the family had had with Johnny Scott.    Maybe he had to start facing the fact that maybe in his haze of pain and fright from what the teacher had done, Joe may have sought comfort and solace somewhere he felt he was safe.  Somewhere like Dead Man’s Canyon.

The search party had now gathered back at the front of the jailhouse to determine what direction to take next.   It was Ben who took charge of the situation.

“Boys, Roy, Paul,” he began, “I think we have to face the fact that Joe isn’t in town anymore.  I think we have to start putting things together to look further afield for Joe.”

“You mean like heading up to Dead Man’s Canyon?” Hoss now asked his father.

“Yes, Hoss,” Ben replied.  “I don’t know if he has gone there or not but he have to expand our search and we can’t rule such an idea out at the moment.   It’s almost on sunset now.   He probably doesn’t have any supplies with him.   He is alone, frightened, scared, hurt and probably not thinking very straight at the moment.  We have to keep searching for him as long as it takes to bring him home safely.”

All of them nodded their heads in agreement at Ben’s words knowing by now that the search for Joe must start becoming more determined in its efforts.

“Adam, you arrange for some food and water supplies, Hoss you try and get some warm blankets and bed rolls together for us.   I will get some medical supplies of you Paul and hopefully we can be on the trail very soon,” Ben explained.

“But how do we know what direction to head in Pa,” Hoss asked honestly.  Just because they thought Little Joe may have gone to Dead Man’s Canyon didn’t mean that he had.   Maybe he had tried to make his way home.

The search party now turned around at the sound of a voice shouting to them from behind.  As they all turned, they could see Charlie, the man who ran the livery stable running up to them as fast as he could.  They weren’t quite able to make out what he was trying to say to them.

“Slow down Charlie,” Ben said as he stopped the man as he approached the group.“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You been looking for that boy of yours Ben,” the man said as he tried to regain his breath after running so hard.   He could see the looks of fatigue of the group suddenly change to ones of hope and anticipation as he spoke.

“Have you seen Little Joe Charlie?” Ben asked immediately.   He could feel his heart thumping inside his chest at the thought that somebody might have some useful information about his missing child.

“No I ain’t seen him, just like I told Adam when he came by searching a while ago, but I just noticed that one of the horses is missing from the stable.” Charlie explained.

“Do you think Joe might have had something to do with taking the horse?” Adam now asked, not worried that his brother was stealing the animal but rather probably trying to find a method of finding his way home.

“Well the horse that is missing Mr Cartwright is smaller in size than the other ones in the livery stable at the moment.   If it was Joe that needed to take the horse, it might just be the clue you have been looking for.” Charlie replied.

“It still doesn’t tell us which direction the boy might have travelled in,” Roy Coffee now said as he tried to put himself in Joe’s shoes.  What would an injured and frightened boy on a strange horse do?  Where would he go?

“No Sheriff, but the horse’s feet should tell us,” Charlie said, and immediately saw the confused looks on those around him.  “You see that horse got reshoed only this morning.  And Mr Withers, his owner makes sure that I put particular shoes on that animal.    They have a distinctive pattern gouged into the edges of the shoe that would make a pattern on the ground.”

“Hot Diggerty Charlie, that means once we find that particular pattern on the road, we can follow it to Little Joe,” Hoss said with hope in his voice.

“Let’s get those supplies together boys and then meet at the livery stable in a few minutes and see if we can’t find those horse shoe prints,” Ben said finding it hard not to go racing to the stable right now.   He knew that they needed to be prepared for the night ahead in case they didn’t find Little Joe right away.

About twenty minutes later, each of the Cartwright family had attended to his assigned task of water, food and bed rolls.    Paul had given Ben a makeshift kit with bandages and some medicine.    The doctor gave Ben careful instructions about what dose to give Joe in case they came across the boy and he needed attention before they could get him back to Virginia City.

Sheriff Roy Coffee had already offered to join the Cartwright’s in the search for the youngest member of the family.   His deputy Clem would be adept at handling any problems that may arise in the town whilst they were gone.

Paul Martin said that he would be waiting at his office when the search party returned and Joe was to be taken straight to him to have his wrist attended to.    He didn’t want to mention or add the prospect of any further injuries the young boy might incur.

The party now moved back to the livery stable to see Charlie waiting for them.   The stable keep had already been scowering the ground around the stable in search of the distinctive pattern.

“I found one right away Ben, just outside the rear door.  There should have been others but they seem to have been covered over by other horses in the meantime,” Charlie said hoping the news would dash any hopes that the search party had built up for themselves.

Hoss had walked away from the party for a few minutes, trying to look at the horse shoe prints on the ground.   Trouble was that they all looked remarkably the same to him.    He just had to find his little brother.  He just had to he told himself.

“Is this one Charlie?” Hoss suddenly shouted in triumph as he noted one set of prints quite a few metres from the livery stable.  The print looked to have a funny squiggly mark along the edges of the shoe.   Was it the distinct pattern that the stable keep had been talking about.

Ben and the other quickly came running over to the area on the ground that Hoss was pointing to.    It took a few seconds for them to see the differences in the pattern.

“That’s it my boy,” Charlie said excitedly.   “Reckon you could recognize it again Hoss?” he now asked.

Hoss grabbed the reins of his horse and slowly walked with his mount behind him, trying to locate a second same print.   It didn’t take long to find one and then a third and fourth.  His heart swelled as he thought they were finally on the right trail to finding the way Little Joe had gone in.

Ben and the rest of the search party quickly mounted their horses and travelled behind Hoss.   They noted the concentration on Hoss’s face to follow the correct trail.     A few times he seemed to lose sight of the right trail when other horse prints covered over the one he was looking for.  But his patient nature paid out and he quickly was able to find another print again not too far ahead.

Just as the sun gave the sky an orange hue across the horizon, signalling almost the end of the day, the search party walked slowly out of Virginia City following Hoss who was still walking a good deal of the way.

After walking about a mile or so out of time, Joe’s horse seem to be easier to spot without the competition from other prints.    Hoss found even though he mounted his horse, he could still locate the right trail fairly easily and continue on their way at a slightly faster pace.

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

While Joe’s family had been making the preparation to try and find him, the youngest member of the Cartwright family was still working his way towards Dead Man’s Canyon.

The night sky was now getting darker and darker and Joe was a little worried that the little chestnut horse may not be able to find his way through the shadows.

By now the young boy had travelled about fifteen miles on the horse.   He wasn’t aware of the distance however.  At first he had tried to talk to himself and the horse to keep himself awake.   He told his horse all about his family and about his recent troubles with the teacher that found him travelling along this road.

Tiredness, fatigue and pain however soon overcome Joe and he had fallen over the horse’s neck in a restless doze for about the last two miles or so.

Joe was quickly brought out of his doze by the sharp snap of a breaking stick awoke him.   The horse was also startled at the noise and tried to shy away from whatever had made the sound.

Joe had to use most of the waning strength he had left to say on the horse’s back.   There was no saddle to prevent him falling off the smooth coat and there was no reins to grip onto either.     He cried out into the darkness in pain as his injured wrist was inadvertently used with his good hand to stop him falling off.

The horse came to a halt at Joe’s cry of pain and the boy now brought his tear-stained face up slightly to look at his surroundings.    He had to let his eyes adjust to the darkness for a few seconds, but he could then make out the shapes of large rocks and a few large trees.

Joe now down very gingerly from the horse, afraid his rubbery legs would betray him.  He didn’t think he had the strength to keep getting back onto his feet.     He told himself and the little horse that he needed to rest of a few minutes.    The other thing he needed right now was a drink of water.    He was feeling slightly light headed at the moment and he felt a little hot despite the cool breeze ruffling his hair.

Joe now began walking over to the large rocks he had seen a few moments ago.   He beckoned for the horse to follow and was happy to see the soft nickers from the animal as the horse followed his smaller master.

The area around the large rocks was slightly even darker due to the canopy of the trees.  Joe could see a few twinkling stars in the sky above him but the moonlight that had given him a little light to travel over the last few miles was now hidden from sight.

The cool breeze blew again and Joe shivered at the chill his body felt.    His head felt hot still though.   He was unaware that his injured hand had caused a slight fever to begin.

Joe looked to his right and was delighted to see a small trickle of a stream very nearby.   He walked unsteadily towards the water and knelt beside it, cupping his hands into the cool liquid and affording himself a drink of the thirst quenching wetness.    The little horse had followed his rider to the stream and now bent his head down to take a drink as well.

Once he had drank his fill, Joe sat down on the edge of the stream, trying to get his thoughts together.   He didn’t think his tiredness would allow him to ride any further tonight.   Even though they hadn’t travelled an excessively long way, he didn’t want to put the little horse at risk of injury by riding by the moonlight.

The only thing left to do until morning was to rest his weary head for a little while. It might stop the dizziness he felt and when the sun came up the next morning, he would be able to travel the rest of the way to Dead Man’s Canyon in the daylight.

Once there, hopefully he would be able to find some berries or fruit to eat and some fresh grass for the horse as well.    For tonight his belly would have to be satisfied with the cool drink of water.

Joe now got to his feet, his gait still unsteady as his legs begged for him to lay down and sleep for a while.    He didn’t have any blanket with him for warmth and he couldn’t light a fire.  It was going to be a rather cool night for him.

Joe sat with his back resting against one of the large rocks.   He used his right hand to gather a few dried leaves in a pile.  That would have to suffice for a rough pillow tonight.

Joe now swallowed slightly and wondered if his plan of waiting until his family was worried about him was such a good idea after all.    He was cold, tired, hurt and hungry and his family was far away.

The little chestnut horse now stood under the canopy of the trees as if a lookout for his young charge.    He nickered softly at a few night-time sounds as an owl made his presence known in the tree above.  There was also crickets chirping their nightly song.

Joe now lay down wearily on the cold hard ground.   After removing a few uncomfortable stones from underneath him, the young boy lay his head on the pillow of leaves.

He briefly thought the ground might be a little softer at first, but the idea slowly fell away as his eyes grew incredibly heavy and he could no longer keep them open.   His injured wrist tucked up closely to his body, the tissue around the bones now very swollen and bruised.  A few grunts of pain and a few whimpers escaped the boy’s lips as sleep stole him away.

Over him, the stars still twinkled and the cool night air still blew into the trees.  Joe’s mind didn’t note the cold or the pain, he was just too worn out.    The boy’s body began shivering slightly despite the fever that burned in his cheeks.

From a little nook created by a few of the large rocks not too far away, Joe and the little horse were unaware that they were being watched.    The niche provided the perfect hiding place for the creature and it’s scent was masked from the horse. Two bright eyes now watched the sleeping figure of the young boy.

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

The progress of the search party had been slowed somewhat due to the same reason as Joe: the darkness.   Even by the moonlight that was above, it was now almost impossible for Hoss to make out the horse prints on the roadway.

Reluctantly, Ben suggested that they stop for the night and make a campfire.   There was a few words of argument from his two sons about stopping the search for their lost brother.  But when Ben had explained the risks to their horses being injured in the darkness if they continued, common sense prevailed in the end and they too agreed to stop for the night.

While Hoss and Adam took the saddles off the horses and tethered them to nearby trees, Sheriff Roy Coffee and Ben cleared an area on the side of the road to make a fire.   Once the flames were happily dancing in the cool breeze, they prepared to cook some food and make some coffee for everyone.

The group now wore warmer coats against the coolness of the breeze.  But as they felt the warmth of the folds of fabric of their coats and they tasted the food in their plates, they were reminded that Joe had so such luxuries with him.  The boy had no food that they were aware of and no warm clothes against the night chill.

Ben was found to be staring into the flames, deep in thought, whilst sipping at the hot cup of coffee in his hand.

“Don’t worry Ben, we’ll find him quicker in the morning with the break of day,” Roy said, trying to reassure his old friend.   There wasn’t much more he could say at a time when they all felt useless.

“You know it’s funny,” Ben found himself saying to the group, “We were angry at the way that teacher Mr Watson treated Little Joe over the last couple of days. But you know we haven’t treated him much different you know.” he added, the words meant for his two sons rather than the Sheriff listening in.

Together they might not have caused any physical scars on Little Joe, but what about the emotional ones.   Ben had heard his little boy’s hope of having someone to play with and still he put his own needs and those of the ranch in front of his youngest son.

“Yeah I know what you mean Pa,” Adam said as he looked guiltily into his own coffee that had grown cold.   “I have made all the excuses in the world over the last few days of why I couldn’t spend time with Little Joe.    Now all I want to do is tell him how sorry I am and just find him safely and bring him home.”

“I could have played with him a little more too Adam,” Hoss admitted.

“In our own way, each of us has been pushing him away without even realising it,” Ben now said as he tried to justify his time away from his family at the timber yard.    Joe knew that there was a great deal of work to be done on a ranch, but somehow his simplest of needs such as companionship and someone to be there for him when he needed it were put aside.

“Forgive me Marie my love.   I will bring him home, I promise.” Ben said to himself. When he found his little lost boy tomorrow and took him home to his own bed, he vowed he would find more time to spend with all of his boys .

The search party all turned into their bedrolls early, knowing that they wanted to make an early start as soon as the sun was visible in the sky in the morning.

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

TO BE CONTINUED ………… But I promise not very much more and it’s all finished ………. now your wondering what the critter is in the rocks

is ?????????     

Chapter Five – Left-Handed

About an hour after he went into his room, Hoss walked into his brother’s room and went towards the bed to wake him for supper time.

Hoss paused a minute though as he gazed down at Joe’s peacefully sleeping face.  From the angle where he was standing it looked to him as if the boy had tear stain tracks running down his face.  As though he had been crying before he went to sleep.

Hoss frowned a little and moved his head a little, making sure it wasn’t the reflection of the sun shining through the glass window playing tricks on his eyes.   He finally decided that he couldn’t be sure but deep down, from expressions that he had seen on his younger brother’s face over the last two days, he was sure that Joe was keeping something from his family.

“Joe,” Hoss said in a quiet voice, so as not to startle his brother awake.   He waited a few seconds to see if there was a response.  There wasn’t so he repeated the process.

This time, his brother mumbled a few incoherent words and attempted to roll away from the voice that was talking to him.

“Come on Joe wake up,” Hoss said a third time.  This time he was rewarded with the boy at least opening his eyes and trying to work out why he was being disturbed.

Joe looked a little confused around the room and looked a little embarrassed as he noticed the shadows on the walls of his room.  He now knew that he must have fallen asleep after coming into his bedroom.

“Sorry Hoss, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Joe said sheepishly.   He know pulled himself up into a sitting position and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.  It was now with the sudden movement that the pain from the back of his thighs was brought to life again.

Joe winced slightly, loud enough for his older brother to hear and then inwardly kicked himself for letting on.  He hoped he could cover his tracks enough.

“You alright short shanks?” Hoss said as he heard his brother gasp in what sounded like pain.  He looked intently at Joe’s face as he asked the question, waiting to see if there was any deception that couldn’t be heard when the boy spoke.

“Fine, Hoss,” Joe said innocently, “Just got up too quick that’s all and got a cramp in my leg,” he lied.

Joe now got off the bed altogether and stood in front of  Hoss to prove that there was nothing wrong with him.    He battled hard to keep his face rigid as his legs threatened to betray him.   The pain was now a dull ache that seemed determined to hang around for a while.

“Adam sent me up to tell you that supper will be ready soon,” Hoss now said, relaxing his guard a little when Joe seemed to be alright.

“I’ll just wash my face and hands then Hoss and be down in a minute,” Joe replied with a winning grin.

“Sure,” Hoss said and left the room.

Joe sighed a little as he watched Hoss leave, knowing he had at least a few minutes to gather himself together before facing his brothers downstairs at the table.

Joe’s attention was now drawn to the fact that his jacket from the day before was still hanging over the chair near his bed.   As he remembered the events of the day and what the teacher had shouted at him, he was reminded that Mr Watson’s note was still tucked neatly away in the pocket.

Joe made a mental note to himself to read the note later that night after his brother’s had gone to bed, before his father had a chance to look at it.   He wanted to make sure that the words written about him weren’t too harsh and wouldn’t cause him to get into too much trouble with his father.

As Joe now walked out of his own bedroom, his thighs still hurt at the walking action. The stairs seemed to make the muscles hurt even more as he descended them.

“Thought you must have gotten lost up there,” Hoss joked at this brother as he saw Joe come down the stairs and approach his chair at the table.

Hop Sing was busy bringing out the various platers of meat and vegetables.   The aromas invaded his senses, letting him know just how many meals he had missed over the last day or so and how hungry he really was.

Joe pulled out the hard wooden chair and looked down at the seat before sitting down. He inwardly gulped a little as he thought about how his thighs might ache even more without a little padding to ease the injured area.

Joe sat down very carefully and now concentrated on putting some food onto his plate.

For the next few minutes, all three brothers concerned themselves with the task of eating.  Adam and Hoss were a little surprised at the level of silence at the table tonight.

On any other given night, Joe would be chatting idly, telling them all about the big adventures he had planned with his friend for the school holidays when they arrived the day after tomorrow.

Tonight proved to be the absolute opposite, with the boy not offering any topic for conversation at all.

The hard seat began to cause the pain in Joe’s legs to be more noticeable.   Unintentionally he began to squirm around in the seat to alleviate the aching.   Trying to find a comfortable position was proving very difficult.

Adam watched his brother with raised eyebrows for a few minutes and questioning glances at Hoss as he noticed the squirming action of his brother.   Joe’s eating was being disturbed continually because it seemed that the boy couldn’t sit still in the chair.

The boy would take a mouthful of food and then move, only to take another bite of  food and move back again to another position.   Adam couldn’t work out why the boy was moving around in the chair so much.   He was beginning to become frustrated and wished Joe would tell him what was wrong.

Adam refrained from voicing his concerns though because Joe was actually eating and he knew that if an argument ensued over his moving about, then the boy would end up pouting and refusing to eat anything.

Finally after twenty minutes or so, the constant moving about even seemed to be annoying Joe himself.    He decided he had to taken other alternate action or he would have to remain standing for the rest of the meal.

The boy could feel his brother’s curious looks at him as he now walked over to the living room area and took a smallish cushion from the settee and placed it on the hard seat of the chair before sitting down.

As he looked up, fork in hand, he could see Adam’s eyes still on him, waiting for an explanation about the cushion.

“I told Hoss this afternoon that my saddle is chafing my legs a little lately and they are a little bit sore,” Joe said, hoping that wouldn’t read anymore in his explanation than was necessary.  At least he wasn’t telling an outright lie.  Some of what he was saying about his legs being sore was actually true.

Adam seemed happy enough with his younger brother’s explanation and now turned his attention to his own meal that was now rapidly turning cold.    Joe’s explanation still didn’t tell him why the boy was so quiet tonight.  He thought it best to explore that avenue after they had all eaten.

Adam glanced up at the grandfather clock and hoped that Ben wouldn’t be delayed to much longer tonight.  The time was already showing 6.30pm.

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

As the evening meal came to a close and Hoss filled his plate with another spoonful of desert, Joe announced that he had finished eating as asked to be excused.

“Sure Joe.  How about you get ready for a bath then before bed,” Adam suggested.

“Do I really have to go for a bath Adam?” Joe asked in a disappointed tone of voice.

“Yes you do, it won’t hurt you, now off you go,” Adam said, not raising his voice too much for fear of the boy rebelling even more against his request.

‘Yeah, won’t hurt much’ Joe thought to himself.

Bath time was normally a battle between Joe and his family.   On some occasions he would take his bath without so much as a word, but the majority of the time it was a real battle between father and son or in this case older brother and younger brother.    What Adam didn’t realise it that’s Joe’s refusal tonight came from the prospect of just how much it really would hurt.

“Hop Sing make nice warm bath for Lil’ Joe,” the little oriental man said as he heard the beginning of the argument between the brothers.  He hoped the soothing water might calm Joe’s temper as well as relax him enough for bed shortly thereafter.

“Please don’t put any of that smelly soap in tonight, Hop Sing,” Joe said genuinely, afraid of how much the water on the marks the teacher had left.   Soap would just make them sting Joe said to himself.

“You do as Mr Adam says and Hop Sing not put any in,” the little man replied, muttering to himself as he headed back to the kitchen towards the bathhouse.  How was the boy supposed to have a bath without soap he asked himself.

Hop Sing soon announced that the bath was ready and warm enough.   Joe had been sitting very carefully on the settee so as not to move around too much and now very reluctantly got up and walked towards the bathhouse.

Adam watched the boy’s deliberate and stiff walking action from behind and noted that the boy must be telling the truth about his legs hurting from the saddle.  He made a note to himself to have a look at Joe’s saddle after he came home from school tomorrow in an effort to make it more comfortable to ride for him.

“He say anything to you this afternoon Hoss?” Adam now asked his larger framed brother, trying to get an angle on what had caused Joe’s sullen mood this evening at the table.

“Don’t ask me.   I think he is still not talking to me after I turned up late to pick him up,” Hoss replied.   He had truly believed that was the reason Joe had not spoken to him during the whole of dinner.

Adam now sat back and attempted to go back to reading his book.  Truth was his thoughts were still on what was troubling his youngest brother.

In the bathhouse, Joe was just beginning to get undressed.  He had made sure that he was all alone for a few minutes before getting started.  The last thing he wanted tonight was for one of his brothers or Hop Sing to accidentally walk in and see the marks on the backs of his legs.

Whilst in his heart he knew he should be telling his family exactly what had happened that day.  The fear of the man’s words about what might happen if he did tell remained strong in his mind.

He had another day of school to get through yet and he would prefer to get through it sitting in the classroom and not being locked away in the back storeroom.

Joe was just about to get into the large metal tub when he saw the mirror standing up against the wall of the bathhouse.   Normally Joe didn’t take much note of what he looked like before or after a bath, but as he stood there with nothing on, and turned to the side slightly, it was hard for his eyes to avoid the red welts that now adorned the skin on his thighs.

The welts, whilst not bleeding or such, they still stood out against the white skin on the boy.  Joe had no doubt that there would be some bruising present in a few days. He would need to make sure very carefully that nobody saw his legs until after the bruises had healed fully.

Joe now tried to put the images out of his head as he put his feet into the tub and to sit down for his bath.   The water on his toes was surprising very warm and the steam rising up from the water had an almost immediate relaxing quality to it.

Joe tried to clear his head of all thoughts and events of the day as his knees and lower legs came into contact with the warmth of the water.

The boy was forced to clamp a hand over his own mouth though and clench his teeth together to avoid releasing the cry of pain as the welted area now came into contact with the water.    Joe had tears in his eyes at the stinging sensation he felt as he forced his body further and further into the water.

For the next few minutes all Joe could do was keep his eyes shut and his face taunt as he waited for the stinging to abate.    Luckily this didn’t take too long and Joe once again found there only to be a dull ache in the back of his thighs.  The ache was slowly becoming less and less and the water soothed the reddened area.

Joe had removed the bandage around his burn mark before getting into the tub. He dabbed gentle at the area with the warm water and was happy to note that it didn’t look as red today.

Joe washed his body before the water became too cold.  He hoped that the warm water would also help to quicken the healing process of his legs.    When he was clean enough and whilst the water still felt good on his skin, he lay his curly head back against the metal rim of the tub.

The steam was now lessening due to the cooling off of the water, but there was still enough inside the bathhouse itself to massage Joe’s senses and let his mind and body relax.  Another five minutes without movement and Joe’s eyes began to slid close.

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

Half an hour had now passed since Joe had been sent for his bath.  Adam looked up at the clock and wondered what the boy was doing in there.   First he wanted to argue about going at all and now it looked as though he didn’t want to come out.

Adam sighed as he put his book aside temporarily and now strode out through the kitchen’s back door to the bath house.

Out of courtesy for his brother, Adam knocked on the wooden door.   He put his ear up to it but couldn’t hear any sounds coming from inside.  There was no answer so he knocked again a little harder and more impatiently this time.

“Joe, are you finished in there?” Adam asked.

The sound of the knocking on the door and the calling out, startled Joe awake from his fitful doze.  He looked around a little confused at first as he had done when Hoss awoke him before dinner.  Again he hadn’t even realised that he had fallen asleep. Better not tell Adam he had fallen asleep in the tub, he reminded himself.

“Almost,” came the reply a few seconds later.  Adam could now hear the sound of sloshing water as Joe scrambled out of the tub and grabbed a towel to dry himself.

“Want some help?” Adam now asked and attempted to open the door.

Joe gasped in alarm as he saw the handle turn and the door open slightly.   He jumped up against the door and used all of his weight behind it to stop his brother from opening the door any further.

“No Adam, don’t come in,” Joe said  “I’ll be out in a minute.” he added, trying to hold the door against Adam and trying to prevent the towel around his waist from falling to the floor with the other hand.   He couldn’t risk Adam coming in and seeing the marks from the teacher.

“Alright, alright, just hurry up so others can have a bath too,” Adam said a little annoyed at Joe’s sudden display of independence.   He knew there would come a day when Little Joe got embarrassed about being naked in front of his brothers, but at seven years old, he thought he had at least another 4 or 5 years before that started.

As Joe heard the sound of Adam’s retreating footsteps, he released his weight against the door and let out the breath that he had been holding in.

A few minutes later, Joe emerged through the kitchen into the living room, fully dressed but when wet curls hanging over his forehead.  A towel was still hanging over one shoulder to catch the drops of water from his hair.

“Do you want to wrap your arm back up tonight?” he added, remembering to keep a check on the burn from yesterday.

“Nah, it’s fine thanks Adam.  Doesn’t even hurt anymore and it’s better already,” Joe said holding his arm out slightly so that his brother could see the slightly pink area encircling the boy’s upper arm.

“All clean little buddy?” Adam now asked casually, trying to clear the tense air from before.    He wasn’t quite convinced that the burn was as healed as Joe said it was but from a distance, the mark didn’t look swollen or blistered at all.  He decided to take a look at it later on after the boy was asleep to save arguments.

“Yeah thanks, but I have got homework to do so I am going up to do that in my room.” Joe replied using the homework that he hadn’t done the previous night.

“Homework, on the second last day before schools ends,” Hoss stammered. “Boy that new teacher you have must be a real tough nut Joe.”

“Yeah, you could say that, Hoss,” Joe said glumly and headed up the stairs without getting any further into the subject.

“Maybe that teacher has been rough on him,” Hoss remarked to Adam as he tried to figure out the earlier question of what might be wrong with Joe.

“Maybe,” Adam said looking up briefly from his book.

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

Joe could relax just that little bit more now that he was in the sanctuary of his own room.   He knew that he would be able to hear his brothers coming before they came into his room.

As he lay the wet towel over the other end of the chair beside the bed, the sight of the jacket, reminded him to pull out the note from Mr Watson and read it.

Joe now pulled out the small envelope with his name printed on the front.    He waited until he was sitting on the bed again before attempting to open it.   He winced again as he had temporarily forgotten about the welts on his legs and they rubbed harshly against his trousers and the bed covers.

He turned the envelope over in his small hands for a few minutes, thinking about what the consequences might be once his father saw the envelope already opened.  Then again he told himself he hadn’t fully made up his mind to give the note to his father yet.  He had told Mr Watson he would but that all depended on what the contents of the note were.

With a audible sigh he placed a thumb under the back flap of the envelope and then very carefully started to lift it open.  If it didn’t tear too much he might be able to reseal or re-close it as though it hadn’t been opened at all.    It didn’t take much effort to open it, revealing the neatly folded piece of white paper inside.

As innocent as the piece of paper might have seen from within the envelope, Little Joe couldn’t help but swallow nervously as he used two fingers to take it out.

He placed the now opened envelope on the bed beside him and now stared intently at the folded paper, hoping secretly there was some way of knowing the contents without creasing it any further.

Knowing full well that he really couldn’t know what it said unless he unfolded it, Joe carefully started to read the contents.

The note read as such:

 Mr Cartwright,

 My name is John Watson and I have been appointed as the replacement teacher for the Virginia City school until the school holidays in the absence of Ms Jones.

 It has come to my attention that your son Joseph has been using his left hand to write with.   Upon approaching your son about this subject he informs me that this inappropriate method of writing has been allowed to continue for quite a considerable time.

 My duty as a teacher has lead me to write this letter to inform you that if Joseph continues to use his improper hand then he will soon sadly lag behind the rest of his classmates.    He will not be able to successfully complete his studies to an acceptable standard and his education as a whole will suffer greatly.

 I write to you as his father in the hope that you will be able to point out to him why this practice has to cease immediately.   I see it as your duty as a parent and guardian to ensure that he changes his habits to enable him to be regarded as a successful student.

 I must point out that Joseph’s behaviour during my appointment has been most disturbing of late.  The boy doesn’t seem to be able to follow the simplest of instructions and is very disruptive to the rest of the class room.

 I demand to see a dramatic improvement in your son’s behaviour within a very short period of time or I will be forced to take drastic measures of my own to ensure that he is more obedience and respectful.

 Yours sincerely

 

John Watson

Teacher

Joe’s bottom lip began to tremble as he read the last paragraph of the letter. How could he show such words to his father and not expect him to believe every word that Mr Watson had written about him?

The seed of self-doubt had begun to grow inside Joe’s mind again, leaving him with very little self-confidence.    With a heavy heart about what the teacher thought of him, Joe folded the letter back up again and placed it back inside the envelope.   He then placed the envelope in the pocket of his jacket again.

The little boy cuddled into his toy bear Bo and laid down on his pillow, his face turned away from the doorway in case somebody came in and saw the tears falling down his cheeks.

His mother Marie had taught him to write when he was very small.  He had always used his left hand.   She had never gotten mad at him or told him it was wrong. Why was everybody telling him now it was wrong?  Why was it wrong?

Joe told himself that he didn’t feel any different to the rest of this family because he wrote with the opposite hand.  He didn’t fall behind any of his class mates now because he wrote his work using his left hand.

The worries of the day soon caught up with the boy and the heaviness in his heart remained as his eyelids slid closed and his breathing evened out as he fell asleep.

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

It was only about half an hour after Joe went to sleep in his room, that Ben Cartwright opened the front door to the house and walked in.

He looked over at the living room as he removed his hat and gun belt and placed them on the credenza.

“Hello boys,” Ben said again looking over at his sons, but this time noticing the youngest boy was missing from the room.   “Where’s Little Joe?”

“Said he had some homework to do and went to his room a little while ago Pa,” Hoss answered.

“He actually offered to do his homework tonight Hoss?” Ben said with a little surprise in his voice.   It wasn’t very often that Joe actually volunteered to do homework.  This admittance by his middle son prompted Ben to think that more had occurred tonight than he was being told.

“Yeah Pa, but he was soughta moody all night.  Hardly spoke to Adam and me and when he did he got in a huff,” Hoss said with downcast eyes.

“Moved around a lot at the table is what I remember,” Adam chose to add.

“Why was he moving around at the table Adam?” Ben now found himself asking.  Getting any sort of coherent explanation from any of his sons was proving more of a chore than he would have liked.   Unfortunately all of his sons had become quite adept at it, even Joseph who was only seven years old.

“Said his saddle was chafing his legs, Pa,” Adam replied, “I have already offered to take a look at it after school tomorrow” he quickly added noting the smile on his father’s face at his offer of help.

“Thanks son,” Ben replied.  Hop Sing was now placing his boss’s evening meal on the dining room table.   Ben went over towards the table, looking as though he was about to sit down.   Sure enough though his eyes drifted towards the stairs and the doorway at the end of the hallway.

Ben sighed loudly to himself and knew that he was in no mood for eating until he went up to talk to his youngest son about his avoidance of his brothers earlier in the evening.

Hop Sing began mumbling to himself about why he bothered cooking meals for such an unappreciative family.  But by the time the little Cantonese man had reached the doorway to the kitchen, he watched Ben climb the stairs with a smile on his face knowing that he would put things right with the youngest Cartwright.

Ben briefly knocked on Joe’s bedroom door when he got to the top of the stairs. He waited a few seconds and like Adam, knocked a second time and waited for a ,response before turning the door handle and walking inside.

When he entered the room, Ben soon saw why his knock at the door hadn’t been answered.  He could see Joe laying on his side on the bed, his face turned away from the door.  As he walked closer, quietly so as not to wake the sleeping child, Ben found himself gazing down at Joe as he slept, unaware of his visitor.

It concerned Ben that Joe had gone to bed reasonably early two nights in a row. He knew the extra sleep wasn’t a problem, but Joe was not normally a boy who went to bed early.

Normally he would fall asleep on the couch downstairs trying to keep up his two older brothers before being chased upstairs and having a story read before being tucked in, usually by Ben himself or Adam.

Ben was tempted for a moment to wake his son and try and find out what was bothering him.   He decided against it and thought it best to wait until morning.

He now picked up the covers on Joe’s bed and was about to drape them across the boy to keep him warm when he noticed that his son was still wearing trousers.  Adam had told him about having a bath and Joe’s efforts to be independent, but he hadn’t changed into a night shirt.

Ben bent down and was about to start undressing his son for bed.  Unknowingly he had placed his hand on the back of Joe’s right thigh, across the welt marks that Mr Watson had caused.

The action reignited the ache that had been there earlier, and although he didn’t wake fully, Joe began to moan slightly at the pain he did feel.  Ben withdrew his hand, afraid that the child would wake fully and then have trouble sending him back to sleep.

Ben now reminded himself about the burn on Joe’s arm and he now moved to take off the boy’s shirt so that he could take a look at the healing injury.    This too proved to be easier said then done as the boy swatted Ben’s hand away at the gentle jostling he was receiving.

Ben tried a second time to try and get the boy into a night shirt, but the reaction and the mumbling at the pain had been the same.   For one night he decided that it was okay for the boy to remain in his trousers.   He would have a talk with Joe in the morning about remembering to change in to a night shirt before going to bed in future.

“Goodnight son,” Ben whispered as he gently caressed the boy’s forehead.  He truly hoped that Joe would open up to him about what was causing him to feel so sad at the moment.  He remembered overhearing Joe say that he wanted someone to play with but with all the action that had happened since then, he thought that problem may have worked itself out.

At least with the timber yard back on track to a certain degree, he could devote a few days over the school holidays to his son after he came home from school tomorrow.  He might be able to organize a short camping trip with the whole family for Joe to try and pluck up his spirits.   Hopefully in a few days Joe would be back to his happy, energetic self without a care in the world.

Ben now came downstairs to the curious looks of both Adam and Hoss.

“He’s asleep,” he said to their questioning glances and noting the brief time Ben had been in Little Joe’s room.  “He went to sleep in his clothes but it was going to disturb him too much to try and change him into a night shirt.”

Adam and Hoss both nodded at their father’s comments and knew what trouble their father would have been in for if the boy was disturbed after he had fallen asleep. It would be a rather worse episode of when Hoss went to wake the youngster on a school morning.  Not something to look forward to at all.

“Can I get something hot to eat now please Hop Sing?” Ben asked kindly, tired and worn out from a long day.  But to his dismay the little Cantonese man went back into his kitchen to reheat Ben’s dinner, clashing pans and pots as he went.    Adam and Hoss had to hold back their mirth to just wide grins at the cook’s antics.

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

The next morning, surprisingly Little Joe awoke before Hoss came in and yanked the blankets off him.   He laid in his bed for a moment, enjoying the silence and the solitude before attempting to stretch some of the tiredness out of his muscles.

Joe noticed that his thighs weren’t as sore this morning as they had been the day before.    He got up off the bed and let his trousers fall to the floor.   With an awkward turn of his head over the back of his shoulder, he tried to get a glance at the welts and see if there was any noticeable healing.

To his relief, the welt themselves were gone this morning.  There were faint outlines of bruises where the horizontal red marks had been but other than that, his skin was devoid of any other injury from the previous day’s events.

Joe had heard somebody climbing the stairs and quickly re-buttoned his trousers before the person reached the door.  By the sound of the heavy foot-steps, he picked the person on the stairs to be his father this morning rather than Hoss.

Joe quickly filled the basin on his bedside table with water from a jug and submerged his hands into the cool liquid just as Ben opened the door to greet his son.

“Well, I must say this is a pleasant surprise Joseph,” Ben said with a genuine smile on his face.  Maybe his son was trying to amend his normal morning ritual of being dragged out of bed.

“Morning Pa,” Joe replied, giving his father a flashy smile before resuming his pretence of washing his face and hands.   “I will be down to breakfast in a minute.”

Ben took note of the boy’s mood and noted it to be decidedly more cheerful this morning than Adam or Hoss had hinted at last night when he arrived home.   Maybe the boy had just had a bad afternoon and a good night’s sleep had done it’s job of replenishing the boy’s youthful outlook.

“See you downstairs then Joe, after you have changed your clothes of course,” Ben said, making sure that his son understood about the habit of sleeping in his clothes at night.

“Sorry Pa, guess I was just over-tired last night.  I will change before breakfast,” Joe replied.

Ben left the bedroom so that his son could get changed.    He hoped that the boy’s pleasant manner would continue throughout the rest of the day and certainly through the school holidays that were upon them already.

After Ben had left, Joe had started to change into fresh clothes as he said he would. But after seeing the slight bruising on the back of his legs again his thoughts quickly turned to the schoolhouse and what might be in store for him today.

As he changed clothes, he seriously thought about feigning illness to avoid going to school on the last day.  But given that his father had already seen him once this morning with very little indication that he was sick, he didn’t think that would work in his favour.

Then Joe thought to himself about all of the things Mr Watson had said about him. The note he had read last night, the jibes in class about him not paying attention and him being called a troublemaker.   Joe felt as though he was being constantly picked on and harassed by this teacher.

If he didn’t turn up at school today, then Mr Watson would think he had won the battle.   He would say that Joe Cartwright couldn’t face the man after receiving the unnecessary punishment and rough handling of the last two days.     He couldn’t let the teacher think that he had bullied the boy into submissiveness.

If the teacher tried to tighten his grip to prevent the young man from getting out of line, Joe decided to actively challenge the man and show him that he wasn’t going to be threatened by anybody.

Joe finished dressing and ran a comb through his unruly curls once before heading out his bedroom door down to the breakfast table.

“Took your time didn’t you son,” Ben commented as he noticed a full ten minutes had expired since his son said he would join the family for breakfast.

“And even then he couldn’t be bothered combing his hair properly,” Adam said as he spied the untamed locks over the boy’s forehead.   He knew as well as any of the family that Joe’s hair was hard to maintain at any given time but he thought he would try and keep his brother in the good mood his father told them Joe had woken in.

“Tis too combed properly, Adam,” Joe said with a scowl on his face before quickly shoving a buttered piece of toast into his mouth.  He hadn’t even sat down at the table properly yet.

“Joseph will you please sit down before you eat,” Ben said, trying not to sound impatient first thing in the morning.

“Sure, Pa,” Joe replied innocently before turning to Adam when he thought his father wasn’t looking and giving him a second frown at the comments about his hair.

“What have you got planned for the school holidays Joe?” Ben now asked, hoping to gain a little inside information about his son’s plans before springing the surprise of the camping trip on him later that night.

“Nothin much Pa, probably go fishing with Johnny or something,” Joe said, having not really given it much thought until his father asked just now.

“Well then, you had better get started to school then if you want the day to be over,” Ben now said with a grin.    He knew that Joe would probably think the whole day was going to drag with the holidays coming.

“See you later Pa,” Joe said as he gave his father a brief embrace once he scrambled from the table.  Hop Sing was standing only a few metres away with his lunch satchel in his hand.

“Boy make sure eat lunch today, not eat lunch two day now, Hop Sing not make lunch not to eat,” the cook said in a friendly way.  He was a little concerned though that Joe’s lunch hadn’t been touched for two days in a row.

Hop Sing tried to put things in there today that he knew the boy liked and hoped would eat.   At least with the holidays coming, he would be able to monitor what the boy was eating during the middle of the day a little better.

“Yeah, Hop Sing,” Joe promised briefly glancing back at his father, hoping Ben hadn’t heard too much about him not eating at lunch time.

“Bye Hoss and Adam, see you when I come home,” Joe said as he scurried out the door towards the barn to saddle his horse Blackie.

“Bye Short Shanks,” Hoss tried to say to his brother, but by the time he had completed the sentence, the doorway was empty and Hoss was talking to thin air.  At least Joe hadn’t commented about him being allowed to stay home again today.

Bye Joe Adam thought to himself knowing that the boy was just full of energy. Adam didn’t reply to his brother’s words but smiled to himself as he sipped at the remainder of his coffee.

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

On  the way to school, Joe told himself that he would try and comply with whatever Mr Watson wanted today just to get through the day.  After today, the teacher would be gone and after the school holiday’s break Miss Jones would be back and things would be a lot better.  He just had to manage to get through this one more day and then he would have the entire school holidays to forget all about Mr Watson.

John Watson had left his hotel room early that morning, about the same time as Little Joe was leaving home.   He intended to purchase his ticket for the evening stage and be on it as soon as it departed this afternoon.

With all he had been made to endure with teaching in an environment and school he believed beneath his capabilities, he planned to be out of Virginia City as soon as possible.

As he arrived at the school house he noticed the Cartwright boy had also just arrived and was still unsaddling and tending to his horse in the school stable.

The boy seemed to be laughing and joking with another boy Tommy Wilkins.   Watson frowned at the two boys.   He didn’t think either of them had anything to laugh about.  Neither of them had been paying attention in school.

Watson recalled the events of the previous day and wondered if the Cartwright boy had gone home and told his family what had happened.

With no sign of any family or adults waiting out the classroom, Watson assumed that the Joe had not breathed a word to anyone.  He couldn’t see the Scott boy for the time being and so it was only Joe’s word against his at the moment with nobody else in sight to back him up.

Even if they decided to tell their families after school today, Watson would be on the stage by the time their families knew and wouldn’t be reachable by any of them or answerable to any demanding questions about his harsh teaching methods.

Precisely at 9.00am, Watson stood at the top of the stairs inside the school room and rang the bell, signalling all students that they should be now seated at their desks to begin the day’s lessons.

For the second time in as many days, Joseph Cartwright was the last student to enter the building.    Joe never spoke to the teacher and Watson didn’t utter a word to the boy, but both had looked at each other as they passed.

Watson’s eyes had been hard and cold as Joe looked at the teacher.   When Watson stared back into the boy’s emerald green eyes, he thought he saw a hint of fear but there also looked to be a sparkle of defiance there as well.  The teacher was determined to make sure that any sign of rebellion was quickly thwarted.

Joe took his place as his desk and tried his best to ignore the stares from the teacher. Although he was sure that the man’s eyes were boring into the back of his skull.

Joe decided to try and forget all that had happened and just try and get through the day as best he could without riling Mr Watson.  Once the day was over, the holidays would begin and he would be able to relax just a little easier.

Joe had noticed the absence of his friend Johnny Scott this morning.  Johnny hadn’t mentioned anything about feeling sick the day before and he couldn’t think of any other genuine reason for his friend missing school.    Maybe he was required to stay home and help his father at their ranch.

He was totally unaware that his friend Johnny had seen and heard every words of the conversation that had taken place between him and Mr Watson.  He didn’t know that Johnny had seen the beating with the ruler or that the teacher had noticed Johnny’s presence.

For the next half hour, Joe tried his hardest to bend to the teacher’s rules and listen to any instructions very carefully.    He even attempted to write with his right hand as awkward as it was.

Normally when Joe wrote with his left hand, he was easily able to turn his work on an angle to improve his wrist position.   When he tried to write with his right hand like the teacher wanted him to, he found it increasingly difficult even to grip the pencil with his fingers enough to be able to make any mark on the paper.

Watson had been watching Joe with his efforts to right with his right hand and smiled to himself as he thought his threats and caning had done its job.    The next action the child did though made him see red.   He also believed that the child had only been pretending to trying to follow the rules and instructions as given.

The child was trying to mock him in his own classroom Watson told himself.  Something which he wouldn’t tolerate under any circumstances and certainly not in front of a room full of seven and eight year olds.

Joe had been trying to do his lessons and was not watching Watson’s face to notice in facial colour.    He had briefly put the pencil back on his desk and tried to rub some of the cramping out of his hand from writing at such an awkward new angle.

When he went to resume his work, Joe didn’t realise that his brain had automatically reminded him to pick up the pencil in his left hand and proceed to write with it.  Writing with his left hand had been so natural for Joe over a few years and he didn’t even realise what he had done.

While the rest of the students had been doing their own work, Watson was determined to make an example out of this child in front of the whole classroom.  He had tried to chastise the boy by sending notes home to his father.   The boy hadn’t even given such a note to his father to read.

When that didn’t seem to have worked and he had felt it necessary to discipline the child after school when the inappropriate behaviour had continued unchanged yet again.  Now the boy was openly defying him again after such disciplinary action had been taken.    It was time to teach the boy a lesson in front of his class mates.

Watson had walked around to his desk and pulled out the ruler that he had used on the back of the boy’s legs the previous day.   He now held it to the side so as not to draw attention to himself or what he actually intended to do.   A few of the other student looked up and saw him walking through the rows of desks, but a quick frown from the teacher saw them studiously put their heads back down towards their own desks.

“What do you think you are doing Mr Cartwright?” Watson now barked as he stood in an imposing stance over the desk of Little Joe.

Joe had been concentrating on the maths problems in front of him and had not heard the teacher’s approaching footsteps.   It was at the shouting voice of Mr Watson that Joe was startled and jumped slightly in his chair.

Joe found himself trying to regain his composure and swallowing in fear slightly before answering the teacher’s question.

Watson saw this as another act of defiance.   “Answer me!” he said through clenched teeth as he tried to reign in the anger he felt at such a disobedient child.

“I was doing my work Sir,” Joe said in a small voice, moving away from the teacher slightly as he remained in his seat.  It was only now that the boy noticed that the pencil was clasped in his left hand and he now looked back up at the teacher, knowing that this is why the teacher looked so angry at the moment.

“Doing your work Mr Cartwright, with your left hand,” Watson shouted.  By now most of the other children were looking on at the scene being played out in front of them.

Before Joe or any of them could react, Watson due his hand up and brought down the implement in his hand.   Joe’s left-hand had been resting on the desk innocently enough, but the ruler in Watson’s hand now came down on the boy’s wrist with considerable force.   Joe was forced to release his grip on the pencil as his cry of pain rang out through the classroom.

Tears were now spilling down Little Joe’s cheeks as he got out of his chair and began backing away from the angry teacher towards the front of the room.   His wrist was carefully being held against his chest and nursed protectively by his other hand.

Some of the other children in the room had let out a cry of fear as they saw what the teacher done to Joe and as they now gazed upon their frightened and injured friend. None of them could scarcely believe what they had just seen Mr Watson do.

Watson himself was now standing with a shocked expression on his face with the ruler clearly visible to all the students.   He had meant to strike the child but not as hard as had occurred.   He didn’t know what was going to happen to him once word got around about what he did, but at the moment all he could do stand fixated to the one spot.

Without so much as a word, Joe Cartwright now escaped to the outside of the class room and stumbled along the pathway to the front gate.  Tears were still spilling down his cheeks.

When he first reached the fence he was a little dazed and confused with the pain from his wrist and unsure of what direction to take.     He had temporarily forgotten about his mount Blackie in the school stable.  He looked briefly in the direction of home and wondered whether he could find his way back to the Ponderosa.

As the pain in his wrist spiked again, his mind told him that he should be seeking help for his arm.    The next person he thought of was Doctor Paul Martin, whose office was only a short walk from the school in Virginia City.   As much as Joe normally tried to avoid the man of medicine, the pain he was feeling at the moment told him that he needed to have his wrist looked at.

Back at the school house, the rest of Joe’s class mates were now huddling together in a small group in a corner of the class room away from the teacher Mr Watson.    Some of the smaller girls were at the back and crying, the boys were at the front trying to act as brave as they dared.  Most of them were wondering where poor Little Joe was.   The hoped somebody would come along and get them away from this monster before too long.

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

As his friends wondered where he was, Little Joe was half-running, half-walking along the main street of Virginia City.    He soon reached a familiar brown wooden door that he had seen on previous occasions.   The sight of the door brought a little relief for Joe in the hope that the person inside would be able to help him and alert his family that he needed him.

As it turned out, Paul Martin was on his own in his surgery when he heard the front door open.    He had been completing some paper work and trying to catch up on  reading some new medical newsletters from back east.     He was curious to know who it was at his door because he didn’t remember having any scheduled appointments until later on that afternoon.

Paul had only just reached the doorway to his office when he was met by a very distraught Joe Cartwright.

“Doc……… you gotta help me please!”, the boy pleaded as he tried to grab a hold of Paul’s jacket with his right hand.  His left hand remained instinctively held curled against his chest in a protective position.   Tears were still streaming down the young boy’s face and he was trying to catch his breath from the running he had just done in getting to Paul.

“Slow down, Little Joe,” Paul said, putting a reassuring and comfortable arm around the boy as he led him into his treatment room.   It hadn’t taken but a moment’s glance to recognize the curly head that was resting against him.  “Tell me what’s the matter son.” he added, trying to give a skilful look over the lad in search of the boy’s distress.

The added tension of trying to tell the doctor what was wrong with him though and what the teacher had done, only seemed to make the child’s distress even worse.  Joe now clung into the sleeve of Paul’s jacket, unable to put the words together to describe his ordeal.

“He hit me,” was the only words that Paul could honestly work out and even they were sketchy at best.   Paul didn’t know who Joe meant by ‘him’.  Maybe Joe had been in a schoolyard fight with one of the older boys.

Paul now turned his attention to Joe’s injury, knowing that the boy wouldn’t have sought the safety of his clinic unless he was truly hurting.   Very gently the doctor tried to pry Joe’s left hand away from the boy’s chest.  From a distance he could see various stages of discolouration and swelling present around the boy’s wrist.

“No!” Joe cried out as soon as he felt his hand being moved.  His mind was too concerned with the pain and the other things that had happened to identify who it was that was touching him.

Paul loathed to make the child’s distress even more so and made every effort to be as gentle as possible, he pulled Joe away from himself and sat the child on an bed for examination.   He briefly left the boy along to get a soft damp cloth and a small bottle of medicine.

Joe was still sniffling and attempting to wipe his tears away as he watched the doctor, but he was now becoming more wary of the man as he saw the medicine bottle.     He saw the doctor pour water into a small glass and take a small copper spoon out of a drawer nearby.

Doc Martin now poured a small amount of medicine from the bottle on the spoon and walked towards Joe with it.    He held it out towards the boy together with the glass of water.

“It will help it stop hurting, Joe,” Paul said in a soothing voice, trying to get the child to calm down.    Secretly Paul was trying to work out a way to get word to the boy’s family but was worried about leaving the child alone for too long.

Joe winced again as he unconsciously moved his injured wrist.  With the pain echoing in his arm, he now looked towards the medicine on the spoon.    Without another word he took the spoon from the doctor and swallowed the thick syrup and quickly washed it down with the glass of water.   He scrunched his face up with the taste.

“Now you just lay back and rest for a minute while I get the other things I need to take a look at your wrist,” Paul suggested, placing a small pillow at the head of the bed behind Joe.     He knew that the boy would soon be feeling the drowsy effects of the medicine.

“I want Pa,” Joe said on the verge of tears as he waited for the pain in his arm to ease.  Wearily he laid down on the pillow like the doctor asked but his mind was full of questions.

“I know you do son and I promise I will get him for you just as soon as I can,” Paul said trying to comfort the child.     “You just rest and leave everything to me.”

Now that Paul saw the child laying back on the bed he thought he had enough time to find the medical supplies he needed to examine Joe’s injured wrist.   He didn’t know what had caused the injury, but concerned by the swelling and bruising thought it best to assume the worst and splint the wrist as soon as possible to prevent any further pain for the boy.

The medicine was now beginning to make the boy very sleepy and his eyes were starting to droop.     His mind however was still rather alert.  He had remembered asking the doctor about getting his father, but couldn’t quite remember getting a reply to his request.

Little Joe’s mind told him that if the doctor was too busy at the moment, then he would be okay to make it home on his own.   His horse was still at the school and the pain was now numbing in his wrist.   He told himself that he would be able to manage to ride home to his father so that the doctor didn’t have to worry about bringing his father to town.

With the little confidence that the relaxation provided, Joe very quickly and quietly got off the bed and walked over to the door.   His steps were a little unsteady at first due to the medicine, but he made it to the door before Paul had even noticed.

Joe now walked out the doctor’s door into the bright sunshine of the morning. He squinted his eyes at the brightness and made sure of the direction he intended to travel before walking slowly along the street.

His confused sense of direction though had led him in the opposite direction, away from the doctor’s office towards the livery stable.     A few people noticed the boy walking but didn’t think it unusual at this time of day.    They paid him no heed as Joe made his way further away from his family, still holding his wrist protectively against him.

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

back at the Ponderosa:

 Ben was about to attend to some of the paperwork that had troubled Adam later that morning when there was a knock at the front door.

Adam and Hoss had finished their breakfast and were about to leave to do their various tasks for the day when they too wondered who would be visiting the household this early in the morning.

Maybe it was Joe coming back after he had forgotten his school books or something they thought.

“Good Morning Sir,” Ben greeted the stranger on the other side of the door.   He looked down and saw a boy about Joe’s age with him.

“Johnny,” Hoss exclaimed as he recognised the youngster standing at the door.  He didn’t know who the man was but assumed it to be the boy’s father.

“Hello, Hoss, this is my dad Richard Scott,” the boy said, introducing his father to the three older Cartwrights.

“Excuse my poor manners, Mr Scott is it?” Ben said, feeling a little embarrassed that he didn’t know who they were.

“Come in won’t you, Mr Scott,” Adam now asked and motioned for them to enter the house.

“Thank you, Mr Cartwright,” Richard Scott said as he removed his hat and walked into the spacious living room.

“Ben please,” the patriarch said.

“What brings you out here Mr Scott?” Hoss asked, a little curious to know why Johnny wasn’t in school with his brother Joe.

“I don’t know how to tell you folks this, Johnny hasn’t told me a great deal about you yet but I have heard what a caring family you were in town,” Scott said, a little nervous because of his newness to Virginia City.

“Johnny was supposed to go to school this morning like always,” Richard began, answering the unasked question that he saw written on Hoss.  “But he refused to go and when I asked him why he said because he was afraid of the teacher Mr Watson.”

“Afraid of the teacher,” Ben repeated, a little confused by the conversation.  Johnny’s teacher would also be Joe’s teacher and he couldn’t remember his son telling him anything about being frightened of the man.   Joe had left for school this morning without any noticeable refusal or complaint.

“Would you like to tell me what’s been happening at school Johnny?” Ben said in a gentle voice, noticing the boy becoming more and more withdrawn about the subject.

Johnny now looked around the room and was looking for Joe, hoping that his friend had successfully convinced his family to stay home or at least had told them about what he had seen yesterday.   “Where’s Joe?” the boy asked plainly as he and his father took a seat on the settee.

“Joe went to school this morning Johnny,” Ben said as he felt a feeling of dread begin to wrap itself around his heart.   Why would this boy not want Joe to go to school?

“Oh Mr Cartwright, you have to go after him and make sure he’s alright,” Johnny said barely able to hold back his emotions and letting tears of his own run down his face.  He was truly afraid for his friend’s well-being.

“Why are you so afraid of the teacher, Johnny?” Ben tried to ask calmly.  His own concerns were beginning to mount by the second but he needed to get the full, story before knowing why he had to worry about Joe at school.

Johnny looked a little confused when Ben asked this question, “Didn’t he tell you what happened when he came home yesterday?” he asked, thinking that Joe would have said something to his family.

“Tell us what?” Adam now said impatiently, not trying to frighten Joe’s friend but more out of his own concern for his brother.  He could see the same concern reflected on the faces of his father and brother.    He hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary when Joe arrived home yesterday and Joe hadn’t said anything happened.   Adam was now looking at Hoss for an answer.

“Joe didn’t tell me anything when I went to collect him yesterday afternoon,” Hoss said in his own defence.   “Was a little moody but I thought he was mad at me for being late to pick him up.”

“Mr Watson has been mean to Joe since he got here Mr Cartwright,” Johnny explained to Ben.   He made Joe stay in at lunch time without eating his lunch and forced him to write with his left hand.”

“He did what?” Ben said as he felt his anger rising at hearing of his son’s unfair treatment.

“That’s not the worst of it though,” Johnny added trying to continue so that Joe’s family would know why he was so worried about his friend.  “Yesterday, Joe was missing from the classroom after lunch.   I asked the teacher where he was and he said that Joe was sick and went to the doctor’s and was then coming home.”

“Joe didn’t complain about feeling sick yesterday Johnny,” Hoss interrupted before the boy finished.

“Yes I know, but I saw Joe in Mr Watson’s class after school yesterday.   I don’t know where Joe was for the rest of the time.   I snuck up beside the stairs where I thought they couldn’t see me.   Mr Watson had some sort of ruler in his hand. When he didn’t think anybody else was watching I saw him hit Joe with the ruler.  And he hit him again.” Johnny added, saying how Joe was hit more than once.

“The teacher hit Joe,” Ben said with his anger boiling over that somebody else had laid a harsh hand on his child.  Also concern that Joe might have been injured and not told anybody.

“Sorry Hoss that I didn’t tell you yesterday.  I was just too scared.   He did see me there and he threatened to do the same to me if I breathed a word to anybody,” Johnny said but was truly ashamed of his cowardly actions.

“I don’t blame you Johnny,” Hoss said as he let the younger boy know that he understood why he had been secretive until know.    It also explained why the boy was acting so out of character at the school house yesterday when he arrived to collect Joe.

“Now you know why I brought Johnny here this morning, Ben,” Richard Scott interjected, noting the Cartwright’s reaction to the news about their youngest member.

“So that’s why he was moving about in his saddle so much,” Hoss said out loud as he recalled Joe using another excuse.   “And at the dinner table last night Adam.” he added sadly.

“That’s why he couldn’t sit still and I didn’t even know,” Adam said as the guilt began to take hold of him.  Why hadn’t he noticed the signs that anything had been wrong with his brother?   Why hadn’t he noticed that Joe was hurting?

Adam now told his father about the table incident and about how he suspected that’s why Joe hadn’t wanted anybody to walk in on him in the bath house.

Ben’s heart fell heavy as he realized that Joe had gone through all of this on his own. Thinking that his family didn’t want to know or couldn’t know, he wasn’t sure which. They had to go to the school and make sure that Joe was alright, then he would deal with his so-called teacher and his treatment of Joe.

Adam now knelt in front of the boy, knowing what he was about to do might be difficult for Johnny.  “Do you think you could come with us Johnny and tell Sheriff Coffee what you just told us?”

“If that’s alright with you, Richard,” Ben added, making sure that the boy’s father was comfortable with what they were asking Joe’s friend to do.

“Johnny and I will do anything to help Ben.   I just hope your boy is alright,” Scott replied.     The boy nodded his head in acknowledgement of his willingness to help out his best friend.  He really didn’t want to see any more bad things happen to Joe at the hands of Mr Watson.

“So do I Richard, so do I,” Ben said as he strapped on his gun-belt and grabbed his hat from the peg behind the front door.

“Time to go teach a lesson of our own to a certain teacher Mr Watson,” Adam said as he strapped on his own gun-belt and prepared to face the man who had tormented his little brother.

“Get those horses saddled boys, we are going after your brother,” Ben said in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

TO BE CONTINUED

Chapter Four – Punishment

There was almost half and hour of time to pass between when Watson locked Little Joe in the small cramped storeroom until the other children returned from recess break.

At first, Joe sat against the wall with his legs tucked up wondering what he was going to do about getting out of there.   When he had first been thrown into the room he had begun shouting to try and alert somebody else’s attention.

His efforts to free himself however only resulted in threats of what would happen if he continued from Watson as he loomed over the much smaller boy.

Joe had not eaten much dinner the night before at home nor this morning as he got dressed ready to leave for school.   The lunch Hop Sing had packed for him was still sitting in his satchel unopened with no way for him to retrieve it.  He had not had so much as a drink of water since leaving home.

His stomach was beginning to protest loudly from the lack of food and water but Joe paid his body no attention as his curly head silently and slowly drifted downwards. His arms were leaning over his knees and made enough of a crudely soft pillow. He didn’t feel himself falling asleep.

Watson had been showing a little uneasiness when he hadn’t heard any noise coming from the boy for quite a few minutes.   He placed his ear up against the door before the class filed back into the room.    Giving into his curiosity he opened the door slightly and peered into the darkness.

He smiled to himself though as he saw that the boy had only fallen asleep.   He was happy enough to assume that the boy would remain so for the remaining class time left.  His classmates would not even know he was there unless he woke up unexpectedly.

Watson started putting his thoughts together as he closed the door again and relocked it.  He had to come up with a plausible excuse for the missing Joe Cartwright for the rest of his classmates so they wouldn’t become overly suspicious and start asking the wrong sort of questions.

As the children did come into the classroom from their lunch, Watson was careful to watch all of their facial expressions to see if they noted anything different.  When he looked at the face of Johnny Scott he could see the youngster looking about the room trying to locate somebody.  He had seen the boy talking to Joe Cartwright for the last two days.

Johnny decided to pluck up enough courage and ask about his missing friend.  He hadn’t seen Joe during the entire lunch break.  He was also worried that he hadn’t seen Joe eating his lunch anywhere.

“Excuse me, Mr Watson,” came the small voice from Johnny.

Watson waited a few minutes as though he hadn’t heard the question.  It was only after the boy was forced to reiterate his question that Watson gave him any sort of response.

“Yes, Mr Scott,” Watson said walking over to Johnny’s seat and towering over the boy in a looming stance so as to baulk the boy into asking only what was absolutely necessary.  “Well come on boy, speak up, your wasting valuable class lesson time.”

“Mr Watson, I was only going to ask about my friend Little Joe,” Johnny said and swallowed hard as he looked up into the uncaring face of his tutor.  “I didn’t see him at lunch and I was just wondering was he alright.” he added, voicing his concerns. Joe still hadn’t made an appearance in the classroom yet.

Watson forced his face to relax slightly so as to give the impression of a caring reply “Mr Cartwright said he didn’t feel well.  He came to me just as you all began eating your lunch.  I thought it better that he seek attention from his family.  He has gone home,” not wanting to add too much unnecessary information that may make the boy ask more questions.

“You mean he’s sick?” Johnny answered, repeating what the teacher had just told him.   He wondered if he should stop to see Joe on his way home to make sure he was alright.  “But his horse was still in the stable.”

“Mr Cartwright went to see the town doctor first.  I assume the doctor took him home in his buggy.  One of his family will come for the horse later on this afternoon or tomorrow,” Watson said, fumbling his way through the answer at first.  He really didn’t have much knowledge about the doctor at all.   He didn’t even know if the man had a buggy for that matter.  He was just hoping the naïve boy would believe what he was told.

Watson inwardly kicked himself for forgetting about the horse. Only immature boys would remember something as unimportant as a horse.  Unfortunately Joe Cartwright’s horse had rather unusual markings and colouring that made it difficult to forget.

“Now, Mr Cartwright will not be with us for the rest of the afternoon to finish his lessons but you Mr Scott are, as are the rest of the class.  Open your books children to the first page,” Watson now said, walking away from the students towards the front of the classroom again.

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

For the rest of the afternoon, Johnny Scott did his lessons in silence as he was asked. His mind couldn’t help but wonder about his friend though.  Joe hadn’t whispered anything in class to him about feeling sick.   Joe had been a little bit cranky lately about how his family was treating him and knew he was going to be in trouble about falling into the water when he went fishing without permission.  But there had been no mention today or the day before about him not feeling well.

Johnny promised himself that he would take Joe’s horse home that afternoon if his family hadn’t come it get it.   Joe had told Johnny right from the beginning about how fond he was of his horse Blackie.   Johnny knew Joe wouldn’t deliberately want the horse to be left at the school stable overnight.   His family might get too busy to come and bring it home.

Back at the Ponderosa, Hoss had been tending to the animals for most of the day. He had feed them and tendered to their every need.    Animals were just something that he understood better than people.

Animals might be a little demanding sometimes, especially when they were young or injured.  But mostly, as long as they had something to eat, clean fresh water to drink and somewhere dry and warm to sleep, animals didn’t bother you at all.

People on the other hand never stopped bothering you Hoss told himself.  If it wasn’t his teacher at school pushing him to do better in his studies, it was the kids in the  schoolyard making fun of him because of his size.   Or his young brother demanding that he play with him after school even though Hoss had chores that his father and older brother expected to be done.

Adam had been further out in the pastures for most of the morning.  He had met his father at the Timberyard just after lunch to try and see how they were doing.

Ben grimly told his eldest son that things weren’t going very well at all and that he didn’t expect to be back at the house until well after dark.  He apologized to Adam for unloading the responsibilities of his two youngest sons on him again.   Ben promised he would try and spend a little time with them all tonight if it wasn’t too late.

Adam had assured his father that he understood that there were major problems at the Timberyard at the moment.  He promised his father that he would soon return home before Joe got home from school to see that his two younger brothers did their evening chores and had supper.

Adam had stayed a little longer then he would have liked though at the Timberyard and as he glanced down at the time as he rode away, he knew he wouldn’t make it back to the ranch until well after school was let out.  He just hoped that his larger younger brother didn’t get too tied up in his animal care to remember to collect Joe.

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

For Watson the afternoon began dragging about half an hour before the end of class. He found himself constantly looking back and forth at the clock on the wall, nervously wondering if the boy was awake yet and hoping that he didn’t start yelling out again from the storeroom.

When the clock struck 3.00 p.m. all of the children remained seated at their desks.  They had learned yesterday not to rile the teacher and so waited patiently for him to dismiss the class.

“Children you may go home for the afternoon.  There will be no homework this afternoon,” Watson said, trying to hurry the children out of the classroom before the Cartwright boy starting making any noise from the back room.

The children filed out of the classroom and headed out the gate.  Some of them, who had further to go walked towards the horse stable to ready their mounts for the ride home.  Watson watched each and everyone of them from the front of the school-house to make sure that children were actually leaving.

Johnny Scott had saddled his own mount and then looked over Joe’s horse Blackie and reminded himself that he was going to take the horse back for his friend.  He then went about saddling Blackie although there wouldn’t be a rider this afternoon.

He led both horses out to the front of the school ready to mount and then quickly realised that he had forgotten his lunch satchel from inside the classroom.

He hitched both animals up to the fence outside temporarily.  Just long enough to get his bag and get started home.  With the extra distance he had to divert to the Ponderosa, he would be late if he dawdled too much.

It was only as he neared the stairs that he could now hear voices coming from inside the classroom.  He figured this to be rather strange at first because he thought the teacher was all alone.  Maybe one of the parents had come to talk to him after school he thought logically.

Johnny didn’t want to intrude on the conversation in case it was adults talking and so waited near the bottom of the stairs.   It was after he heard a few more words of the conversation that he shrunk back towards the outer wall of the school-room, fearing he would be discovered.

a few minutes ago while Johnny was at the stable:

With the classroom now empty, Watson was careful to make sure that the back door to the school house was securely locked.   He didn’t want his star pupil managing to escape once he allowed him out of the storeroom.

His attention was drawn to this boy that seemed to get under his very skin for some reason.  He failed to note that the front door to the classroom was still open and that there would be an audience listening outside to everything that was going on.

He opened the storeroom door and was pleasantly surprised to see two small green eyes looking back at him.  The boy was indeed awake.  His face was smudged from the dirt from the floor of the room when he had wiped his tears away.  There was a look of fear in the boy’s expression and that’s just how he wanted it to be.

“What do you want with me?” Joe asked in a small voice, hoping to use his size as a deterrent for the teacher, hoping that Mr Watson only wanted to talk as he had said before locking him in the room.    However, even at the age of 7, Joe was astute enough to realise that the teacher hadn’t locked him away from the rest of the class to merely ‘talk’ after everybody had gone home.

“You chose to defy me Mr Cartwright and I cannot allow that disrespect to happen in my classroom.  I need to punish you in a way that will afford you to do as you are told in future,” Watson said.

“Can I have a drink of water please?” Joe now said, his throat was really dry from all that time without any liquid.

“You may get a drink from the jug over there,” Watson said as he pointed to a small table outside the storeroom where a jug of water and glass were stored during the day. He needed a reason to get the kid to come out of the room on his own anyway, rather than drag him out kicking and screaming.

Joe slowly got to his feet and shuffled his way past the teacher, worried that the man would change his mind in an instant and relock him in the musty smelling room.

As he took the glass drinking his fill, Joe carefully looked about the classroom, trying not to draw the attention of the teacher.  He was looking for any sign of someone left behind in the school house he could signal for help.  He prayed desperately that his brothers Hoss or Adam were about to walk in the room and take him home before the teacher got a chance to deal out his ‘punishment’.

back at the Ponderosa:

Adam rode into the yard knowing that his day of work was not yet complete.  He still had to make sure that this two younger brothers did their chores in time for supper and then he had to try and spend some time on the account books.

With his father delayed until well after dark for the last couple of days and Adam trying to at least make up the numbers to help out the hands doing the more physically demanding jobs, the books were not getting very much attention at all at the moment.

As Adam stopped his horse near the barn and got off the saddle, he put his hand to his head, knowing that another problem had just arisen.  From where he was standing, he could already see that Hoss was still tending to the animals, almost in the same position when he had ridden away this morning.  Obviously Hoss hadn’t left yet to pick up his younger brother from school.

“Hoss you didn’t leave to get Little Joe yet, school would have already been let out ten minutes ago,” Adam said.

“Oh no,” Hoss declared, “Adam, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to forget Joe.  Time just sorta got away from me.  I just finished feedings those babies a little while ago and I just turned around to change their bedding straw and they are complaining that they are hungry again.”

“I know of somebody else who is going to be complaining too when you get there,” Adam said with a slight grin on his face.  He could already imagine what hot tempered little words would come from the seven year old when his big brother showed up over 45 minutes late.

Adam was worried that boredom would get the better of the energetic youngster and he might just decide to come home on his own. Or even worse find something else to fill in the time, like heading off to a fishing hole on the way home without telling anybody where he was going.

“I am going right now, Adam,” Hoss said, already half way through saddling his mount.  “I will try and be as quick as I can to get there.”

“Don’t try and go too fast along that road, Hoss,” Adam warned. “Don’t do anything foolish like your younger brother and ride along there like the wind was after your tail.   Lord knows Pa has enough to worry about without having you or him or both of you hurt to add to it.”

“I’ll be careful,” Hoss reassured his brother.

“I am going inside to get cleaned up and then tackle some of the book work at Pa’s desk,” Adam told his brother.

Hoss nodded his head but was glad that all the responsibilities of running the ranch had been left to somebody like Adam when his father was forced to be away.  He didn’t know how Adam remembered to do everything that needed attending.

No wonder Joe tested Adam’s patience sometimes at the end of the day.   Adam must be completely worn out by supper time Hoss surmised as he started along the way to Virginia City and the school house to pick up his younger brother.  He prayed that Joe would be in a better mood than he had been in this morning when they got to the school.

back at the school house:

“Looks like your family doesn’t want to come and get you,” Watson teased his reluctant student.  He knocked what remained of the water and cup out of Joe’s hand. The cup hit the floor spilling its contents and breaking into three or four pieces.

“They will be coming,” Joe said with as much courage as he dared.  He didn’t want to rile the teacher too much for he knew that it would only result in him bearing the brunt of his anger.   Secretly again he prayed that his family would soon come for him.

“Get over to my desk you little imp,” Watson now said shoving Little Joe roughly out of the back of the school house towards the classroom.

Johnny Scott swallowed uneasily as he heard the teacher’s harsh words towards his friend.   He didn’t know if he should identify himself or divulge his hiding place to Watson.   At the shout of Joe to get over to his desk, Johnny became too afraid to even let the sound of his breathing be heard.

Joe fell against the desk awkwardly, needing his hands to steady himself and prevent himself from falling to the floor altogether.  During the time it took to regain his balance, he could see Watson reach into a small travelling bag from behind his desk. He was now pulling something long and thin out with his right hand.

Joe could feel the fear in him starting to gain momentum as he tried to see what the teacher was holding.  It soon came into view and he wished he couldn’t see it again……..  it was a long thin wooden ruler about 16 inches in length.

“I hate having to teach some harsh lessons to my students, Mr Cartwright,” Watson now said from behind the desk, making sure that his pupil could see the instrument in his hand the whole time.

“But your behaviour over the last couple of days is disturbing to me and I believe I have no other choice than to punish you in a way that you won’t soon forget,” Watson stated, knowing there really wasn’t an ounce of truth in what he was saying.

Truth was, Little Joe Cartwright was just one of those kids who got under his skin from the very beginning and he didn’t know quite why.

“But I haven’t really done anything wrong, Mr Watson,” Joe said in his own defence. “I did what you asked in class most of this morning,” he added, trying to at least reason with the bullying teacher.

“Did you do your homework yesterday, Mr Cartwright?” Watson now shouted at the youngster.

“But…………,” Joe started to say before he was savagely cut off.

“Yes or no Mr Cartwright, it is a simple question.  Did you or did you not do the homework assignment given to you yesterday afternoon?” Watson shouted, daring the boy to lie to him.

Joe shook his head in a negative response but didn’t say anything further.   It was obvious the teacher wasn’t going to believe anything he had to say anyway.

“Did you give your father the note I instructed you to give him about your improper writing technique?” Watson now asking a second question.

“No but he wasn’t home until…………………….,.” Joe said before he was cut off rudely again.

“An excuse Mr Cartwright.  An excuse that doesn’t hold water in my eyes.  Yes your father probably didn’t get the note, but it is probably more the case that you chose not to give it to him isn’t it?”

“No!” Joe shouted back hotly, forgetting about the ruler for a second, his temper quickly rising at the insinuation that he had deliberately lied to his father.

“What?” Watson yelled back, his face now bright red and the tendons in his neck taunt.

“Your lack of respect boy has earned you a more physical form of punishment,” Watson now said, moving out from behind the desk and behind Joe.   Joe tried to turn around to face the teacher, his fear still rising within him.

Without so much as a warning of what he was about to do, Watson brought the ruler back in his hand slightly and before Joe had time to react he felt a stinging sensation to the back of his thighs.

“Yeoww!” Joe said out loud, unable to hold back his cry of pain.  His hands went immediately to the area.  His had on trousers, but the blow from the ruler had been hard enough to still allow him to feel it.

“Keep quiet you little brat,” Watson said to him, looking nervously around the room in case the boy’s cry of pain was heard by somebody passing by in the street.

It was only as he looked about the classroom towards the front door that he could make out the outline of another small figure hiding by the stairs outside.  A brief glimpse of hair allowed him to identify the person as Little Joe’s friend and classmate Johnny Scott.

While Watson was a little afraid now that more than one boy knew what had been going on, he was equally sure of his abilities to silence the two boys through fear. He was determined to leave a lasting impression on Joe Cartwright that would ensure he didn’t say anything to his family and Johnny Scott would be warned what could happen to him if he breathed a word to anybody.

Joe was about to say something to avoid another assault from the teacher’s ruler when he felt a second sting to the back of his leg.  This one felt even harder than the last. The pain took his breath away momentarily and all he could do was look at the teacher with a surprised look on his face.

“And I assure you more of the same Mr Cartwright if you or anybody else breathes a word of what has happened here today to anybody, understand?” Watson demanded, making sure he put the right amount of emphasis on the words “anybody else”.

Johnny Scott had indeed heard the teacher’s warning and knew that Mr Watson knew he was there.   He slowly crept out from behind the stairs and walked as calmly as he could towards the front fence and his waiting horse.

For a few minutes he didn’t know what he should do.   Should he stay and help his friend Little Joe.  Should he run and tell Sheriff Roy Coffee what he had seen or Joe’s family?

Back inside the classroom, Watson had put away the ruler, knowing that he was taking unnecessary risks by prolonging the punishment any longer.  The boy’s family had been delayed, much to his advantage, but he was under no misgivings that somebody would soon arrive.  He had seen a dark haired man pick up the boy yesterday afternoon promptly enough.

“Remember what I said boy,” Watson hissed in Little Joe’s ear as he went back behind the desk to hide his crime.  “And I promise you more of the same tomorrow afternoon as well if you show the same level of disrespect and disobedience that you have displayed in class over the last two days.”

“You will write with your proper hand in class and I expect to see a marked improvement in the quality of work produced from you Mr Cartwright.   Your father may not be interested in your education but I see it as my duty to teach you right from wrong,” Watson added.

By now Joe’s voice was totally gone.  He stood with tears streaming down his face, both from the physical pain he felt from the ruler and the captivity he had been forced to endure.  But also from the frustration and humiliation he had endured at the hands of such a bitter and angry man.

“You may leave, Mr Cartwright,” the teacher finally said as he gathered his bag and headed towards the back of the school house.

Joe stood there for a few minutes, unsure of what to do.   At first he thought it might be a joke and that the teacher was just waiting for him to move again and inflict more marks on his body.

Then the confusion started to set in about what to do about all that had happened today.  His head of course told him to tell his father immediately when he got home. But it was the fear of another day of school yet to come and what could happen if he did decide to tell someone and the teacher found out about it.

He decided to think more about what to do on the way home and later that night.  His father would know what to do about Mr Watson.  Little Joe started to gather his books together in his satchel.   The brown paper parcel with his lunch in it from Hop Sing was still wrapped up neatly and tidily as it had been when he arrived at school this morning.

Outside the school house, Johnny Scott was still wrapped up in his own thoughts about what to do.   His hands were still trembling a little as he near his mount and tried to gather the reins.   He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice call his name from behind.

“Johnny,” Hoss greeted the boy he had known to become his brother’s friend and in some cases, partner in crime.  He looked a little worried though when he saw the boy’s unusual reaction.  He hadn’t meant to scare the youngster, when Johnny turned to face the voice, Hoss noted a slight paleness to the boy’s features as well.

“Um Joe’s inside, Hoss,” Johnny said and hurriedly mounted.  He reminded himself to release Blackie’s reins and took off before Hoss got a chance to apologize for startling him.

“Sorry but I have to go, my mom will be waiting for me,” Johnny said, coming up with a lame excuse for his departure.

“See you then,” Hoss said, scratching his head a little at the boy’s evasiveness.  Johnny hadn’t shown any such inkling on the other times he had seen him.  Exactly the opposite actually.  The boy normally displayed the same amount of exuberance and energy as his brother Joe did.

Hoss now climbed the three steps that led to the classroom.  He stood at the doorway momentarily, allowing his eyes to adjust from the brightness of outside to the darkness that seemed that seemed to fill the classroom.

“Hey Joe are you in here boy?” Hoss said, not being able to make out his brother’s shape at first due to the poor light.

Joe had been so lost within his own thoughts that he almost jumped off the chair he was sitting on when he heard Hoss shout his name.   He quickly got up, grimacing slightly at the immediate pain to his thighs that resulted.   He quickly wiped his shirt sleeve across his face to hide any tears that may have been visible to someone else.

“I’m over here, Hoss,” Joe replied in a very small voice.  He fought very hard against the tide of emotions within him to fall into his bigger brother’s embrace right here and now and force himself to tell his horrid tale.

“You alright punkin’?” Hoss asked, noting the somewhat subduedness of his younger sibling.   “Sorry I am so late.” he added, thinking that the boy’s lack of enthusiasm might be in reply for him being late and the boy being forced to wait quite a spell on his own in the school house.  Joe was a boy who didn’t really relish waiting for anything under normal circumstances.

“Your late,” Joe shot back in reply, suddenly remembering how late Hoss had been in coming.  Whilst he knew Hoss wasn’t late deliberately, he couldn’t help but think of how none of the punishment he had received may have happened at all if one of his family had been there to protect and defend him.

“I am sorry Little Joe, I got a bit held up looking after all those little critters,” Hoss said apologetically as he shuffled his feet on the floor knowing that his brother was completely correct in his statement.

“I don’t want to talk about it now anyway,” Joe said brushing away the subject as quickly as it had been brought up.  He know walked across the room and passed his brother to outside.

Joe had let out a quiet wince or two at the pain he still felt at the back of his legs as he walked.  He was careful not to make too much noise as to alert his brother to the fact that he was hurt in any way.  However he was unaware that he was walking in a manner that drew attention to his gait.

Joe was a little surprised to see his mount Blackie happily standing quietly at the front fence of the school house instead of the school stable yard.  But right at this minute in time he was equally uninterested about how he came to be already saddled and waiting for him.

Hoss found himself looking at the back of Little Joe as he walked.  He thought he spotted the youngster walking a little awkwardly on the stairs a few seconds ago as he passed.  But looking now with a better view, he could definitely see the boy walking differently than usually.

“You alright Joe?” Hoss asked plainly, trying not to suggest about the walking action. He would see how the ride home was and wait until they got home to see if there was still a problem.

“Fine,” Joe said in a low almost tight lipped response.  No other hint of an explanation even looked like being given.

From the look of the sullen facial expression of Joe, it was clear to the bigger boy that he was going to get the silent treatment all the way home.   He shrugged his shoulders and walked to the gate and his own horse, knowing that the boy’s mood would only get worse if he tried to pry what was bugging Joe any further.

“Let’s go home, Joe,” Hoss said in a cheery voice, trying to lighten the boy’s mood.

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

Hoss had ridden in front of his brother as they turned towards the road that would lead them back to the Ponderosa.   He failed to see the winces of pain uttered through the boy’s lips or the screwed up face as the saddle rubbed against the marks left on his legs from the ruler.

On the way home, Joe did exactly like he wanted to and tried to figure out the best way to tackle his problem when he finally reached the ranch.    He was still in two different minds about the whole thing and fear in the form of retribution from Mr Watson was still clear in his mind if the teacher was to find out he told somebody.

When they reached the Ponderosa, Hoss offered to stable Joe’s horse and rub him down as a sort of peace offering to fill in for being late to pick him up from school.

“I think Adam’s inside, Joe,” Hoss informed him still trying to drum up casual conversation to get the two of them talking again this afternoon.

“Pa’s not home yet?” Joe asked, unable to hide his disappointment.  Pa was the one person he hoped was home this afternoon. With two voices in his head at the moment about what to do, he hoped his father could sort out which voice to listen to.

“Adam says he is not going to be home until after supper again Joe, sorry,” Hoss said, feeling a little sorry for the forlorn expression on his brother’s face.  It was no secret of Joe’s affection for his father and the need to have the man’s love shed over him on daily basis.

“Hop Sing probably has some of those sugar cookies you like inside for afternoon tea,” Hoss now said, hoping to change the subject and take Joe’s mind of his father’s absence.

Joe turned to walk inside but he didn’t voice to his brother that he didn’t feel much like eating anything at the moment.     He entered through the front door, avoiding Hop Sing’s kitchen all together and the prospect of telling the little Cantonese man that his packed lunch was still untouched.

Joe didn’t announce his presence, but instead quietly opened the door just in time to hear the voice of his older brother.  Apparently he was not entirely happy about something.

“Darn it all,” Adam said only to look up and see his younger brother looking back at him.

Joe had even contemplated on the way home of telling Adam about what had been happening at school with Mr Watson.   Upon hearing his brother’s angry outburst though coming through the door, his unspoken words quickly fell away without being heard.

“Um hi, Joe,” Adam said sheepishly, a little embarrassed at being caught out by his youngest brother.  He was the one always telling Joe to learn patience.

“How was school today?” Adam asked, this being the usual question the boy was asked upon his return every day.

“Alright, I guess,” Joe mumbled under his breath, barely loud enough for Adam to hear.

“Well if you want something to eat you will have to go and annoy Hop Sing because I am totally snowed under here I am afraid little buddy,”  Adam said.

“I am afraid this ranch has many more problems than I can handle at the moment and I hate even the thought of another one coming up anytime soon,” Adam said, forgetting that he was talking to a seven year old who was not likely to have much impact on the ranch’s problems for a few more years yet anyway.

Upon hearing this statement, however innocent in meaning, Joe knew that Adam was too busy to hear of any problems he may be having at school with a teacher.

He started walking up the stairs and turned around almost ready to tell Adam about the beating he had received.   “Adam what do you do when you know someone has done something very bad?” he asked.

Adam’s concentration though had been totally immersed in the account books in front of him.  His brain triggered that someone was speaking to him and as he looked up he could see a questioning look on his brother’s face.

“What was that Joe?” Adam said thinking that Joe was asking him something of a trivial nature.   His eyes were already cast back down towards the desk he was leaning over.

“Not important right now,” Joe said, turning his head away before Adam could see any sign of the tear running down his face.

Joe closed his bedroom door and climbed on his bed only to lie face down in his pillow and let all of his emotions and frustrations out at once.

……………………………….

TO BE CONTINUED

Chapter Three – Substitute Teacher

The next day saw a whole new routine happening on the Ponderosa.  Joe was still asleep while the rest of his family were already seated at the breakfast table discussing what each was to do.

“I don’t think it would hurt for just one or two days, Pa,” Adam now said as he took a sip from his coffee cup.

Adam and Hoss had just finished trying to explain to a dubious Ben about Hoss being allowed to stay home today and the next to help Adam out on the ranch.   They had already lost some of the men at the lumber yard where Ben was needed that day.  A few hands had been told to move on by Adam over the last few days because of their laziness and like of something to drink.

“I promise I will do my best, Pa,” Hoss now said pleading with his father.  It was no secret that Hoss would rather be working on the ranch like the rest of the men rather than sitting in a hot school room all day.

“It will be the summer holidays after tomorrow anyway,” Adam said, seeing the hopefully look in his brother’s blue eyes.  Although Adam wasn’t normally a supporter of ditching school, he did have some knowledge of his brother’s yearning to be with the livestock.

“What about his schoolwork that’s left?” Ben now said, playing with Hoss’s emotions a little. He knew that being this close to the school holidays that there wouldn’t be too much study left to be done.

“Aw Pa, Miss Healy says that we only got to go over the same stuff we have being doing the last few months,” Hoss said.    He knew all about what Ben thought of a good solid education in life.

Adam had gone all the way through school and would soon be heading off to college in San Francisco.  Deep down Hoss just hoped that his father didn’t want him following in his older brother’s footsteps.  Learning books had never had much of a hold on the middle Cartwright son.

“Okay Hoss, you can stay home from school for the next couple of days,” Ben finally said, letting his son of the hook.   Hoss’s shoulders sagged in relief  and he happily began eating his breakfast again.

Neither of the Cartwright’s seated at the table had been aware that a certain younger member of the family had just heard Ben tell Hoss that he could stay home from school.   That certain younger member was now staring intently at the family eating words, trying to find the right scathing words to say.

A few minutes earlier upstairs………………….

Joe had awoken on his own this morning.  The first thing he noticed was just that.  It wasn’t very often that he woke on his own.  Normally one of his brothers would be dragging him from his warm bed by this time.

This morning however, Joe woke slowly and in his own time.  Stretching his sleep limp muscles and enjoying the sun coming through the window and gently warming his face.

When he felt a little more awake and alert he got up from his bed and prepared to get dressed for the day.    The trousers he had had on last night were hanging over the back of a chair in his room waiting for Hop Sing to gather them later that morning for wash day.  The note that Mr Watson had given Joe was still folded neatly in the envelope in the pocket of his trousers.  Completely forgotten about.

Joe dressed in a clean pair of trousers and a fresh shirt followed by socks and shoes before heading downstairs to the breakfast table and his family.   It was when he was almost at the bottom of the staircase that he had heard his father tell his brother Hoss that he was allowed to stay home from school.

“How come he gets special treatment?” Joe said in a tone of voice that sounded more harsh than he would have liked.

Adam and Ben turned to face the youth, surprised to see him not only awake but dressed on his own and ready for school.   His hair was still in need of a brushing before he left, but all in all Joe had done pretty well for himself they thought.

Ben could hear the displeasure in his son’s words about favourable treatment that didn’t include him.  Whilst he wasn’t happy about his son’s tone of voice this early in
the morning, he wanted to try and defuse the situation without getting involved with a full scale argument with his son before breakfast.

“Nobody is getting special treatment, Joe,” Adam interjected before Ben could say anything.  “We are pretty short handed with men at the moment and some of the stock need more attention than I can spare them for right now,” he attempted to explain.

“Oh and Hoss being allowed to stay home for two days isn’t special treatment huh, Adam!” Joe spat back at his brother.  “I could help out with the animals too you know, Adam,” he said in his own defence.

“Watch your tone of voice,” Ben warned his son for the first time that day.

“Hoss is only being allowed to stay home because Adam needs him.   I know you think you are big enough to help out but your education is more important at the moment.  Hoss is a long way further through his schooling days, yours have only just begun Joseph,” Ben explained.

“But I don’t like school anymore than Hoss does,” Joe said trying to plead with his father.  He was now shuffling his feet about on the wooden floor and refusing to look at this father as he spoke.

“Nevertheless you will be going Joseph, so I suggest you sit at the table and eat your breakfast before you go.  Is that understood?” Ben said in a no nonsense voice.

“Yes, Pa,” Joe replied, still looking at the floor and mumbling his answer.  He complied with his father’s request to sit that the table and picked up his spoon.  He looked down at the bowl of oatmeal in front of him and began stirring the lumpy mixture around and around the bowl but refusing to put any of it into his mouth.

Ben drew his hand down his face, trying to wipe away some of the frustration he was already beginning to feel towards his youngest’s attitude.  The boy had only been awake for less than an hour and it was already beginning to feel like an incredibly long day.

Ben was thankful that Joe was not a wilful child.   He had seen some youngsters at the Church picnic’s and at the school yard that were turning out to be royal pains for their parents.

Whilst Ben expected respect and discipline he didn’t think that physical force was the way to achieve such goals.   He would rather try and talk out problems with his sons first and let them know that they could come to him at any time with their worries and concerns.

Ben however knew that Joe was at an age where he was beginning to find out what it meant to be rebellious towards anything that resembled rules and regulation.    He knew that the more he pushed his son to do the right thing, the more Joe would just pull in the opposite direction, trying to prove his sense of independence at the same time.

It was this sense of independence that drove children of Joe’s age.  They were a long way from being adults yet, but beginning to experience the real world and wanting to do it without their families more and more everyday.

“Joseph, eat your breakfast please, don’t play with it,” Ben said sternly.

Little Joe now complied with his father’s request but was not entirely happy about it and so to show his displeasure in a subtle way, he made sure that the spoon barely had any oatmeal on it when he forced it into his mouth.

By the time he had done this, with his father watching every attempt, the little boy had barely eaten but a few spoonfuls of the lumpy mixture anyway.

Adam and Hoss had watched the entire episode as well and were waiting for the imminent explosion from their father towards their brother and his antics.  To their surprise though and Joe’s as well, it didn’t come.

Ben was secretly counting to ten inside his head, trying not to do what they all expected him to do.  Instead, he slowly got up from the table and went about carrying out the rest of his tasks before heading to the timber yard that morning.

Ben watched his son from the corner of his eye and from the other side of the room and thought that his alternate method had seemed to work at least momentarily.  Joe was watching his father move about the room preparing to leave, wondering whether he had been let off the hook or not.

Joe didn’t like this game his father was playing.   He would have rathered Ben just yell at him and get it over with.   This delaying tactic his father was suddenly using was a little unnerving to say the least.   Maybe his father was going to wait until he came home this afternoon to dish out the expected punishment.  That would mean Joe would have all day at school to ponder what list of chores his father would dream up by that time.

“Hoss, I still want you to take your brother to school before you do any of the caring for those animals.  He is still too young to be riding to school on his own,” Ben now instructed as he put on his leather vest and his hat.

Joe was about to object and opened his mouth to protest about the baby treatment he was going to be getting by being lead to school like a five year old.   He looked up at his father though who was now buckling on his gun belt.  The words died on his lips before they were spoken.   Ben’s look was one of  ‘I dare you to say anything Joseph’.

Ben was satisfied that his son was still trying to work out what punishment he had in store for his earlier demonstration of childishness.

‘How is that burn on your arm this morning Joe?” Adam now asked, genuinely making sure that it didn’t need any tending to before the youngster left for school shortly.

“Fine,” came the curt reply with no real indication of whether it was okay or Joe was just being obstinate.  Probably the latter Adam assumed knowing how difficult any kind of conversation had been between Joe and any of the family lately.

“Would you like me to have a look at it for you?” Adam now asked, keeping his own temper in check.

“Nope it’s just fine like I told you,” Joe said and quickly got up from the table before anybody could question him further about the truthfulness of his statement.

Joe quickly raced up the staircase to grab the shoes he had forgotten when he came to the breakfast table.

Ben, Hoss and Adam just looked at one another trying to work out whether or not they should be chasing after him and physically looking at the injury themselves to see if it needed any attention or not.

Ben was trying to decide if he should be chastising Joe for the way he had spoken to his older brother when Adam had asked about his arm.  At the end of the day, Ben rationalised that it would only cause more animosity at the table that morning.   Whilst he was unhappy about Joe’s lack of manners, he hoped that by the time he had returned from the timber yard and Joe had returned with Hoss from school that his son would be in a better frame of mind.

It was right about now that Joe came running back down the staircase, this time with his shoes on and laces tied.  He had his books tucked underneath the arm that wasn’t injured.   It looked as though he had made some sort of effort to comb his hair.   The curls had a mind of their own today though and were going in all directions.

“Come here Joseph please before you go,” Ben now said in a gentle tone of voice as his son attempted to escape out the door with as little contact with his family as possible.   He was trying to avoid them for the baby treatment he was getting that he deemed unfair.

Little Joe almost rolled his eyes to his father’s request as he had done with Adam but did it somewhat more discreetly knowing that his father’s reaction to such cheekiness wouldn’t be so restrained as his older brother’s had been.

Joe now stood in front of his father with his eyes downcast to the floor.  “Yes Pa?” he said in the smallest possible voice, as if he were trying the innocent look that usually work for him.

Adam and Hoss now both looked at each other and rolled their own eyes at the well known antics of their younger brother.  They both knew that it wouldn’t take too long for Joe to wrap their father around his finger.

“Joseph, I want you to take care of yourself at school today,” Ben began.  “If your arm starts hurting too much make sure you let your teacher know.  Somebody can get word to your brothers to come and bring you home if necessary.   Although I don’t think that will be necessary” he added, seeing his son’s eyes light up with the prospect of being allowed home from school early.

“Yes, Pa,” Joe repeated in the same tone of voice as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “I’ll be okay” he said, knowing that Mr Watson would be the last person in the world he would tell that he had an injured arm.

“Come on Hoss or we will be late,” Joe now said giving his father a quick embrace and pulling away from his father’s grasp, “Bye, Pa,” he said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

Ben couldn’t help but grin at his son as he scampered out the front door, pulling Hoss along with him.   Hoss protesting that it was too early to leave just yet and that he hadn’t finished eating his own breakfast yet.

No matter how subdued Joe appeared sometimes, it didn’t take much of a change in circumstances to see him bounce back to his normal vibrant exuberant self.  His energy was what kept his family his family on their toes all the time.  And they wouldn’t have it any other way.

With Joe and Hoss now headed to the barn to saddle their horses and shortly thereafter the schoolhouse, Ben rose from the table, informing Adam that the day was going to be a long enough anyway.  He too would be headed to the barn shortly to saddle his own horse and then head in the opposite direction to the timberyard.

Adam too went on his way.  With the men being so short-handed lately, he knew that he would be needed at a number of locations that day.  Hopefully he would be home in time for when Little Joe returned home from school.  If not, he would remind Hoss before he left to keep an eye on the time in case he didn’t get back in time. One of them would need to be at the schoolhouse when school was let out that afternoon.

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

Joe’s real reason for going to school a little earlier had nothing to do with Mr Watson. He was hoping that he would meet up with his new little friend Johnny Scott before class started.

As Hoss and Joe rode along, Hoss tried to encourage his brother into some light hearted conversation to make the journey seem shorter.  He tried all sorts of topics he thought might interest Joe, like the fishing hole or the animals that he was going to take care of when he returned home.

Joe however seemed very distracted as they rode along the rode to Virginia City.  Joe’s mind was occupied with thoughts about what Mr Watson had said to him the
day before about being backwards and falling behind all the other kids in the class because he used a different hand to write with.

As Joe got closer to the town and could see the school-house come into view, the words Watson had said seemed to get louder and louder until they were echoing inside his head.   He silently hoped that Mr Watson had forgotten all about what had happened the day before and that the last two days of school could just progress without much interaction between the two of them.

As Joe rode his horse towards the stable situated behind the school yard, Johnny Scott spotted his friend and ran up to greet him as Joe dismounted from his mount and started taking the saddle off.

“Hi, Joe,” Johnny said excitedly, in the short time they had known each other, he too had come to value the brief friendship they shared.  He, like Joe hoped that the more time they were able to spend together, the stronger that friendship would become and they would soon be the best of friends.

“Hi, Johnny,” Joe said in reply, his mood lifting a little at the sight of his friend.  Hoss watched on with a smile on his own that Joe had found someone his own age with similar interests to play with.  Joe hadn’t mentioned too much bout his new friend except the day he had come home sodden and had explained he had been fishing with Johnny.

“Um Little Joe, I’ll leave you to it,” Hoss said not wanting to intrude too much on the younger boys.  With his large size sometimes Hoss felt out of place even with his own brother’s classmates.  Sometimes with his own classmates too.  “I’ll be here to pick you up this afternoon” he reminded his younger sibling.

Joe’s grin quickly turned to a sneer again at the mention of the babying treatment of being picked up from school like a first grader.  “You don’t have to you know, Hoss,” Joe tried to reason with his larger sibling.  “I can ride home and you can be there waiting at home before Pa and Adam even know.”

“But I will know Little Joe and you know how much trouble both of us would get into if Pa or Adam knew that I let you ride from school all by yourself,” Hoss said with a lump rising to his throat as he tried to imagine what would his father say to such an episode.  “Besides, I want to make sure nothing happens to you.  You might fall off your horse on the way home and get hurt.  Nobody would be there to help you,” Hoss’s protectiveness over his smaller brother was now shining through.

“I am big enough not to fall off my own horse, Hoss,” Joe said gruffly and turned away from his brother, dragging Johnny with him towards the school house.

Hoss watched sadly as the two boys headed to school.  Deep down he knew his brother was probably right about not falling off his horse.  From a young age Joe had displayed very good horsemanship.  Ben assumed much of it had been passed on genetically by his mother who had also been an excellent rider.

Hoss was more upset that his brother was angry at him rather than what Joe was angry at him about.  Like Ben earlier that morning, he hoped Joe was in a better mood when he arrived at the school house to pick him up.

Hoss now returned home to take care of the animals that he had been allowed to stay home for.   The various tasks of nursing, feeding, cleaning their bedding would now keep Hoss’s attention for the majority of the day.

Back at the school house, Joe and Johnny had been happily sitting down sharing various tales when the bell rang signalling the start of lessons.    Without really meaning to Joe and Johnny found themselves at the rear of the line of children.

Johnny had managed to take his seat in the classroom without any remark from Mr Watson who was towering over the youngsters at the door.  Joe however was not so fortunate to avoid the scrutiny of the harsh teaching master.

Watson’s brows furrowed together in a frown as he watched the boy known as “Little Joe” amble into the class behind everybody else.  He however did not think of it as Joe just being in line waiting his turn.   He saw the gesture as a defiance of his authority and knew that the boy was out to rile him from the outset this morning.

“Mr Cartwright in future I want to see you seated at your desk before the bell rings for class, is that understood?” he said, determined to chastise the boy in front of all his classmates.

“Yes, Mr Watson,” Joe replied, inwardly groaning that the personal attack on him had begun almost before he even walked into the room.

“I am keeping my eye on you boy, so you had better watch your step young man,” Watson sternly warned.

Turning his attention away from Joe momentarily, Mr Watson now assumed the role of teacher for the morning and now stood at the front of the class.

“Now I trust that you all did your homework assignments last night,” he said, “Please come up to the front of the classroom in an orderly fashion and place your work on my desk.  I will check it throughout the day.  Any work that is found to be inadequate or messy will have to be redone,” he added, smirking a little as he knew that this would indeed involve at least half of the class.

Joe swallowed inwardly because now was genuinely the first time he had thought about the homework assignment since Mr Watson had given it out at the end of class yesterday afternoon.

When he had gone home, he had tried to help out with the chores and then his arm had been burned in the kitchen and he had forgotten all about doing homework.

Looking about the room as the children filed one by one up to the front of the classroom as instructed and placed their work on his desk, Watson could distinctly see that his ‘star’ pupil did not move from his chair or even attempt to.  Just the opposite, the child was squirming about in his seat with a worried look on his face.

Watson immediately knew that he had caught the boy out about not doing his homework.

“Mr Cartwright, do you have any work for me to check?” Watson said in a very casual manner.  It was a tone of voice the man had solemnly used and anybody else but Joe could have sworn that the man was genuine in his question.

Joe however glanced up at the man and spotted a totally different look in the man’s eyes.  Even for a seven year old, the boy was able to see that the man was annoyed at the child’s disobedience.

“Um, I am sorry Mr Watson but I hurt my arm when I went home yesterday and I went to sleep before my father came home,” Joe said telling almost the whole truth.  He decided that the teacher didn’t need to know that he had woken up after his father came home and talked with him.

Watson took in every word that the child had said and made a mental note for future reference about the injured arm.  With the information given though he understood there to be another missed task assigned to Mr Cartwright:   the note.

“I would take it then Mr Cartwright that you failed to give your father the note I wrote to him yesterday?” Watson now asked, deliberately leaving out the subject of the note from the rest of Joe’s classmates.

“I’m sorry, I did take it home Sir but my father has had trouble at the timber yard lately and hasn’t been getting home until long after dark.   I will give it to him tonight when he gets home,” Joe added hoping that the promise might get him of the hook of trouble he was already dangling from.

“Mr Cartwright you and I will discuss these matters out of class hours in your recess break,” Watson now said, seeing that the other students were listening in to everything that was being said.

Joe didn’t know what to think for a moment.  The man didn’t sound as if he was upset about the homework and the note at all.   He was saying that he just wanted to discuss it at lunch time.   Joe told himself that he could handle that if the teacher only wanted to talk.   He could take any amount of yelling from Watson after what he had been getting off Adam at home lately.   He couldn’t help but think a few minutes ago that his punishment would be worse than that.

For the rest of the time from then until the lunch hour, Watson refrained from talking to Joe unless necessary.  He didn’t want to alert any attention to what he had in mind for his disobedient student.    Whilst the boy worked however, he noted that the boy had ignored his advice from yesterday about writing with his left hand.

That coupled with the no homework and the note was enough to fuel his temper.   He told himself that if the boy’s father wasn’t going to do anything about discipline for the child, note or no note from him, then he took it upon himself to show Joe what was right and wrong in his classroom.

As the hour wore closer to 12 noon, Watson could feel his temper rising further and further.  He could see from the boy’s participation in class that he was a child that thrived on the group atmosphere a class room offered.   The other children looked to Joe and almost came to judge their own behaviour and sense of where they were in the class according to where Little Joe Cartwright was.

This was just the scenario that he had seen in a number of older boys at other schools. They became the leaders of the class and other students who could be persuaded to do well with their academic futures, went down a path of disobedience and intolerance of other students.    He had been forthright about setting such disruptive troublemakers apart from the class before.   Although the boy in question was only seven, he didn’t see the age difference as any excuse to let the behaviour continue any further.

If he made an example out of Joe Cartwright for the other youngster’s to see, then the other students would see that discipline and hard work were the way for them to go.

He continued to watch the boy throughout the morning, making mental notes of the times Joe was day-dreaming or lost his concentration.   There were a few occasions that the boy stopped working and rubbed at his right arm just below the shoulder area. He had not believed the kid at all earlier in the morning when he used an injury as an excuse for failing to do his homework.   He could see now that maybe the boy had a injury at least.

The thing that provoked the teacher’s temper the most though was Joe’s continual use of his left hand when he had explicitly explained how much it would cause him to fall behind the rest of the class.    He thought he had explained it enough and made it clear that he didn’t want him using his left hand at all.  Even if the note had never made it to his father like intended, the boy at least had heard the arguments for such a change and should have complied as such.

At one point his temper had boiled over as he watched the boy’s writing style.  He had been holding onto a pencil to mark the previous day’s homework.   The pencil had suddenly snapped without warning, making a few of the students in the room jump at the sharp sound.

Joe had briefly looked up but put his head back down knowing that he would be in trouble yet again if he didn’t at least look as though he was doing his work.    He only had to make it through the rest of today and tomorrow and then the school holidays would be here and he would be free of Mr Watson forever.

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Little Joe tried to do what was asked of him for most of the morning and so did not notice too many of the dark looks directed at him from the teacher.

Soon the bell was ringing, signalling that it was time for recess.   Normally the children would have already scattered by now, but with Mr Watson as their teacher, they all waited for his signal to file outside in an orderly fashion to play.

“Children you may all go outside,” Mr Watson informed them,  “Except Mr Cartwright of course,” he added, deliberately reminding Little Joe about that little talk they were supposed to be having.

Joe sighed at the thought of the talk.     He hoped it wouldn’t go for too long because he was genuinely hungry today.  He had very little dinner the night before and equally as little breakfast before he left that morning.   Hop Sing would be surprised to see that the boy had eaten most of what he had packed for once.

Joe was now the only student seated at his desk.   Watson’s false smile quickly faded as he walked behind Joe and closed the front doors to the classroom.   He saw the look of surprise on the boy’s face and increased Joe’s apprehensiveness by going towards the back of the classroom and making sure that the back door was also closed.  He wanted to make sure that there was no unwelcome visitors when he and his little friend had their ‘little talk’.

“Don’t want to be disturbed now do we?” Watson said casually to Joe answering the boy’s unasked question about why he was closing the doors.   The tone of voice was a little too casual for Joe’s liking.   He began moving about in his seat again, displaying his nervousness.

“From the attitude you displayed today Mr Cartwright, I take it that you like ignoring my advice and disobeying my instructions.    In fact I see you take an active part in doing the complete opposite to what I ask of you and the rest of my students,” Watson started to say.   By this time he was standing beside Joe’s desk, looming over the boy in an ominous stance.

“But I haven’t done anything wrong,” Joe began to say in his own defence.   True he hadn’t done the homework assignment, but he thought he had explained that enough. He was trying to think back over the rest of the morning to see where he had disobeyed any of the teacher’s instructions.  He thought he had actually done better than he ever did in one of Miss Abigail’s classes.

“Haven’t done anything wrong,” Watson said calmly.      “Haven’t done anything wrong !…………..” he now bellowed angrily and grasped Joe’s right arm right were the bandage covered his burn mark.

“Oww your hurting me, Mr Watson,” Joe cried out, cringing a little at the man’s sudden explosion of anger.  He now was fully aware of why the teacher had closed the doors.   He was now becoming afraid of the teacher.

“I haven’t even begun to hurt you yet, Mr Cartwright,” Watson replied and deliberately made his grip over the injury even tighter.  Joe cried out in pain once again at the pressure being applied.

“Come with me boy,” Watson asked through gritted teeth, not waiting for the boy to stand but literally dragging him out of his small seat and pulling him across the room towards the back door.

Virginia City school was made up of two rooms, one larger enough for the class room and smaller area out the back were Miss Jones often prepared the work for her classes. In addition to these two rooms, there was a small storage room, not much bigger than a broom closet.    It was here that the stationary supplies and other books were kept when they weren’t being used.   Because of its size, the room was very dark and often held a musty smell to it after rain due to the lack of air circulation.

“No you can’t put me in there,” Joe said as he tried pulling himself away from the teacher.  He was using his other hand to try and pry the teacher’s hand from his arm.   If he could just get free he could try and make it to the door and get out before the teacher caught up with him again.

The fact that the room was so dark was the thing that scared Joe the most.  It was no secret in his family that the youngest had a phobia about being in the dark.

“You will wait in there until the end of school where we will continue this little necessary discussion.” Watson told him.   Joe knew that the teacher had no intentions of talking about anything.

Joe was still trying to pull away.   Watson now jerked the door open by the handle and with a hard thrust, shoved the boy through the door.  The force made Joe unsteady on his feet, unable to stop for a brief moment and the boy found himself falling over a fallen book on the floor and cracking the back of his head against a shelf.

The blow to the back of his head was enough to make him fall to the floor stunned. Because of the dizziness that he was experiencing, he made no attempt to get back to his feet and get out the door.    Watson too his opportunity to close and lock the door, imprisoning his young student inside the small,  poorly aerated room.  He made sure that the boy heard his laughter about his misery.

Joe now pulled himself to his feet, although a little unsteady, and began banging on the other side of the storeroom door and shouting for someone to let him out.  He could only hope that somebody outside might hear his cries for help.

“Let me out!…………. You can’t lock me in there! ………” Joe shouted at the top of his voice.    He was almost on the verge of tears from fear of the room as well as what the teacher had in store for him later on.    He had to get out he told himself.   “Let me Oooouuuuttt!”  he screamed again.

This time his efforts did cause the door to be opened, but it was not anybody to help him.    Watson now stood in front of him in the doorway.

The teacher grabbed the front of the boy’s shirt and lifted him off the ground slightly as he uttered his warning:

“You had better be quiet boy if you know what’s good for you,” Watson snarled. Although he taken the precautions of closing the door, he wasn’t prepared to take the risk of how far the boy’s shouting would carry.  Maybe somebody outside would hear him and come to help.   Maybe one of his classmates might hear him and go get another adult.  He didn’t want anything disrupting his plans for later that afternoon.  He would have to make sure that the boy remained quiet inside his prison for the remainder of the afternoon until the other children had gone home.

“You can’t keep me in here,” Joe said, tears now running down his face, unable to stop them.

“Oh but I can,” Watson answered and roughly shoved the boy back inside the room locking it again to prevent the boy’s escape.   “I will keep you and your disruptive behaviour away from the rest of your classmates,” the teacher added, trying to justify his harsh methods to himself.

Joe fell heavily on his backside on the storeroom floor.    The room was now almost completely devoid of light.   Joe could hear the sounds of his own sniffling in the silence.    With nobody to help him he didn’t know what the afternoon had in store for him that afternoon.   That almost scared him as much as the darkness of the room.

Joe now moved up against one of the walls of the storeroom and grabbed his knees up towards his chest and laid his head on top of his knees as he cried softly to himself and wondered when his family were going to come and get him.

TO BE CONTINUED………………

Chapter Two – In Trouble

Adam and Hoss were already seated at the dinner table when Joe walked into the house with his sodden trousers and his sodden boots. He was more worried about what Adam’s reaction would be and so almost jumped out of his skin at Hop Sing’s voice berating him for walking his wet and muddy boots all over the floor.

“Lil boy all wet and dirty. No supper to get washed up and clean. Lil’ Joe always make mess for Hop Sing to clean up,” the little oriental man said. He turned around and stomped back into the kitchen muttering to himself about having to reheat meals.

Little Joe had been startled at his little cook’s words, but now decided he best do as he was told and get cleaned up so he could eat. He hadn’t even reached the bottom step of the staircase when he heard another accusing voice behind him yet again:

“And just where do you think you are going?” came the voice dripping with sarcasm. Joe turned around and looked full on into the angry face of his big brother Adam. Joe proceeded to roll his eyes at Adam in response to what he knew was inevitable.

The look on Adam’s face when he saw the gesture only made the lines in his face deepen with frustration at the young boy. His eyes narrowed and he widen his stance and placed his hands on his hips in a demanding pose.

“I asked you a question Joe. Where have you been all afternoon?” Adam now asked putting aside the wet and muddy clothes for the moment. When he had first discovered his young sibling missing he went through the various stages of anger for the boy’s disobedience, fear about where the boy might by and worry about what sort of trouble he might get himself into all alone. Now it was back to anger as he could see Joe standing before him, obviously less than hurt but deciding to be rude and obstinate instead.

Little Joe suddenly turned his attention to the flood boards and mumbled his reply “Just went fishin”.

“What was that, and stand up straight and face me when I am talking to you?” Adam now barked back.

Joe stood there for a minute tracing a pattern on the wooden floor with his muddy boots. Finally he looked back into the brown eyes of his brother and repeated “I just went fishin’ with a friend, that’s all.”

Adam could feel his temper boiling over and knew that he would need to cool down before dealing with this child any further tonight. “Get upstairs and when you are cleaned up Hop Sing will bring your supper to your room.

You can wait for Pa to come home and explain your behaviour to him” Adam said as he made himself turn and walk away from the scene.

Joe was now angry too. He knew he was wet and muddy, but didn’t think that was enough cause for Adam to be so cranky at him. He made his displeasure known by beginning to stomp loudly up the wooden stairs one at a time and making sure that the noise sounded out hollow from each one as he went.

Adam knew what the kid was doing and could see the kid’s defiant manner as turned at the stomping noise: “And you are restricted to the yard for the next week” he said harshly back at the mop of curly hair. He really want to say “For the rest of your life” but refrained.

“So what else is knew” Joe said in an uninterested tone. It wasn’t as if he had any free time off the ranch lately anyway. He was always being restricted to the house or yard. What made today any different? Adam could see that the boy was determined to undermine him at every turn and so ignored any more attempts to rile him.

About half an hour later he noticed still cranky but somewhat calmed down boy walk down the stairs to the bathhouse.  Joe had taken about twenty minutes to scrub the dried mud from his body. He gave his hair a wash too because he could feel the bits of grit and sand through it as he ran his hair through the curls.

Joe walked from the bathhouse in his nightshirt and spotted Hoss and Adam sitting in the living room. His father still wasn’t home and he started to worry in the back of his mind about why his father might be so late. He looked from brother to brother before climbing the stairs once more. Adam wouldn’t even give him the satisfaction of looking at him. He got a quick and concealed wry smile from his brother Hoss which said volumes without hearing the words.

Joe could even see the disappointment in the one brother he thought would stand-by him no matter what.

“Night, Hoss,” Joe said loud enough to emphasis that he had no intentions of saying goodnight to his older brother Adam.

Joe’s attempts to give him the cold shoulder treatment actually brought a slight chuckle to Adam’s lips and he fought to keep it in until the kid’s bedroom door was closed again.

Joe sat on his bed with his hands behind his head for a long time that night. His meal tray sat where Hop Sing had left it, untouched. He really had no stomach for any food tonight. He had too many thoughts going around his head.

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About an hour after Little Joe went to bed, the front door of the house opened and in came Ben Cartwright. He had a little mud on his own boots and was dog tired. All he wanted was a hot meal, a hot bath and a nice bed before going out again in the morning.

Hoss and Adam could see the tiredness etched on their father’s face as he hung his hat on the peg behind the door.

Ben had only just managed to unbuckle his gun belt and place it on the credenza when he was greeted by the same tirade from Hop Sing that Joe had come home too.

“Boss walk mud all over Hop Sing’s floor just like son. How son get in trouble when Boss do it too. Nobody listen to Hop Sing. Move back to China and cook for clean family,” he said and went back into the kitchen to heat Ben’s dinner.

Ben was really tired and in no mood for the little oriental man’s lectures he did however catch something about his son getting into trouble. It didn’t take much nous to work out which son Hop Sing meant as he looked over and could see Hoss and Adam sitting in the living room. He sighed loudly and walked over to hear all about the day’s events involving his youngest son Little Joe. He could see from the way Hoss tried not to look at his father and the less than impressed look on Adam’s normally handsome features that something else had happened earlier in the evening.

“Okay, out with it” he said in a no-nonsense tone. “What’s being going on here while I have been gone?”

“Hoss you care to start the conversation,” Ben said. Hoss never was good at hiding his feelings or emotions. His facial expressions gave him away immediately.

“Better ask Adam Pa. I ain’t coming between those two at the moment. Liable to get my head taken off by them both,” Hoss said genuinely.

“Well, Adam?”, Ben said now standing in a similar fashion as Adam had done with Little Joe earlier. Hands on hips and in a questioning stance.

“Little Joe and I just had a little disagreement Pa that’s all. I left things alone because I was too mad. I’ll talk to him again in the morning when he’s cooled down some,” Adam said in exasperation. He really didn’t know how his father coped all the time. Adam thankfully only had to do it every now and then. His relationship had been a positive one up until now, but with his absence at college looming, the two could barely look at each other without arguing.

“And just what do you need to talk to him about in the morning may I ask?” Ben said getting cranky himself about his two eldest son’s dancing around the problem instead of just coming out plain and saying it.

“He took off from the ranch this afternoon without telling anybody and when he walked in the door he was dripping with mud,” Adam said as he explained the scenario.

Ben sighed out loud again and now guessed at why Hop Sing had gone off at him walking mud onto the floor as he walked in. He rubbed at his temples tiredly and then glanced up the staircase to the closed door.

“I’ll go talk to him son,” Ben said and started climbing the stairs. Hop Sing had just laid Ben’s hot meal out onto the table when he saw his Boss climb the stairs towards Little Joe’s room. Once again he went off into a tirade of Cantonese as he pulled the plate off the table again and mumbled out loud as he took it back into the kitchen to keep it off.

He knew of course that Ben wouldn’t take anytime for himself until the problem with his youngest son was sorted out first.

Adam had also mumbled some words under his breath about Ben babying his brother too much. He wasn’t too annoyed though and was a little grateful to have someone willing to take the responsibility for a little while. Hoss and Adam soon retired to their own beds knowing that the following day would be a full one if not a tiresome one.

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Ben now carefully opened the door to his son Joseph’s room to check if the boy was awake or not. He looked over and could see the boy turned on his side towards him, appearing to be asleep. Truth was, Joe still had not succumbed to sleep and heard his father climb the stairs. He evened out his breathing and closed his eyes so as to act asleep.

Normally Joe would crave his father’s touch and presence, even just to say goodnight. But tonight, Joe was still feeling angry with every one in the world. He didn’t feel like being cuddled and babied just to make things better.

Ben quietly closed the door behind him and walked towards the bed. It was now that he could see the full tray of food left behind by the ever faithful Hop Sing. He sighed wearily at the uneaten food and knew that it was another battle yet to be won with his son. The battles at the moment just seemed never ending.

Ben could see that he wasn’t going to have much conversation with the boy tonight. He had no intentions of waking the sleeping boy. He sat on the bed giving his tired legs a rest, being careful enough not to disturb Joe. He was still close enough to be able to reach out and brush back the few stray curls that hung over the boy’s forehead.

It took all Joe’s inner concentration from opening his eyes and tumbling into the embrace that his father would no doubt offer. He was determined not to let his weakness show. He knew that Adam would have told his father everything that happened today. He knew that his father would be unhappy and disappointed in his behaviour once again.

“Help me Marie,” Ben said as he gently placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Tell me were I am going wrong with our son. What do I have to change to make things better?”

Joe could scarcely hold back his tears as he heard his father’s words to his mother’s picture on the bedside table.

“I need your help too O Lord. Hold my hand as I guide him through the years. Show me the patience and understanding that I need to learn to help Joseph overcome these troubled times.” Ben then gently kissed his sleeping boy and left the room to go to his own bed for the night.

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Early the next morning a still tired but awake Ben sat at the breakfast table sipping his coffee whilst discussing the day’s events with his eldest son Adam.

“I’ll have a talk with him when he comes down to breakfast son,” Ben told Adam. But I’m afraid with all the problems at the lumber yard at the moment, I probably won’t be back until late tonight again.”

“How long do you expect the delays to continue Pa” Adam now asked.

“Well with one of the blade’s broken and some of the men refusing to compensation with some extra work, the schedule is getting further and further behind. I have tried to hire more men, but there just aren’t many men willing to do the work. I’m sorry son but I need you to run things here at the ranch for the next couple of days,” Ben said with genuine gratitude in his voice. There were many times in the past that he wondered what he would have down without the steady guiding hand of his son Adam.

“Don’t worry Pa, we’ll manage here. Hoss has been a great help. As much as any full grown man,” Adam admitted thinking about his 13 year old brother. He might be only a teenager in years, but Hoss’s willingness to put in a good day’s work matched his size and strength.

“I know you will son, but I hate to leave all of the responsibility to you all the time. This trouble with Little Joe isn’t helping any either,” Ben said.

Adam and his father were now joined at the breakfast table by Hoss. “Morning Pa, Morning Adam,” Hoss said in his usual cheery voice. It took a lot before Hoss showed his grumpy side. Something which the rest of the Cartwright family sadly lacked.

“Morning, Hoss,” came the reply from both men. “How did you sleep son?” Ben asked Hoss. This was his usual question to his son’s in the morning.

“Great Pa, I’m hungry though” Hoss replied and started to fill his plate with bacon and eggs. Ben smiled to himself. He knew that the only time he needed to worry about Hoss in this house was when the boy said he wasn’t hungry.

The boy ate a grown man’s size meal and a bit more almost every day and was still growing. Sometimes Ben wondered if Hoss was eating for himself and his little brother Joseph. Considering how much the youngest Cartwright brother ate, he could very well believe it sometimes.

Ben looked towards Little Joe’s closed bedroom door a number of times whilst sipping at his coffee. He tried to hide his glances but knew Adam was intently watching what he was doing. The look on Adam’s face told Ben that his eldest son wanted the problems with Joe sorted out by his father.

“Hoss will you go and rouse your younger brother for school please,” Ben said as he glanced yet again at the closed bedroom door. He could not hear any noises on the floor above signalling that Joseph had awoken on his own and taken the initiative to get dressed before anybody came looking for him.

“Sure, Pa,” Hoss said in a cheery voice. Hoss had forgotten about most of the trouble his brother had been in the night before. Hoss was one to easily forgive and forget and get on with life as though nothing had happened. He was ready to start the new day afresh with everybody being friendly towards each other again.

Hoss was surprised though when he did knock on Little Joe’s room and opened the door to see his brother pulling on his socks and shoes. “Morning short shanks” he said happy that he didn’t have to go through the almost daily routine of pulling the bedclothes back and yanking Joe to his feet.

“Morning Hoss” Joe said in reply but his voice was already full of annoyance and frustration at the day. It wasn’t even 8.00am and already Little Joe was in a bad mood. The bad mood came from being away a great majority of the night trying not to think about the things that had been happening between him and Adam lately.

“Pa is waiting to talk to you downstairs and he ain’t about to take any of your sass this morning, Joseph,” Hoss warned his brother before they exited the room and headed down the stairs towards the breakfast table. Joe just proceeded to poke his tongue out at Hoss as though telling him that he didn’t need to be told what to do.

Hoss just sighed to himself and rubbed the bridge of his nose knowing how Adam lost his temper sometimes with this most of wilful of children. He just hoped that Joe knew better than to act badly in front of his father. Tired or not, Ben Cartwright never did put up with back chat or saucy words from any of his sons and they had all come to know it. Joe just like to push the limits as far as he could at his age. Hoss could never remember acting the way that Joe had been lately. Sure he had gotten into his own fair share of trouble when he was younger but never to the extent that his brother did. Joe just seemed to have a knack to attracting trouble.

Joe reached the bottom of the stairs and seemed to drag his feet as he walked to the table with his head hung low. He knew that his father was about to talk to him about his adventures yesterday and he wasn’t very happy about getting a dressing down this early in the morning. He looked at his older brother Adam briefly and thought he saw a scowl about the dragging of the feet and the overdrawn out walk to the table.

“Morning, Little Joe,” Ben said in a greeting voice. He did want to have a talk with his youngest son about his latest behaviour, but he also wanted to start the day out on the right foot. He could see the unhappy expression on Joe’s handsome boyish features and the efforts the boy used to avoid direct eye contact with everybody seated at the table.

“Mornin,” came the barely audible mumble as Joe took his seat. He pulled the empty plate in front of him closer as though to put some food on it. He glanced briefly at Adam again and muttered the same mumble of “Good Morning,” to his brother.

Adam responded in kind with a bare mumble of his own but his voice betrayed his annoyance slightly and his face still bore the scathing words that he was thinking about saying to Joe about his trip to the lake and his disrespectful tones when he returned home.

Ben waited a few minutes for Joe to have some breakfast before he asked him any questions. He knew that if an argument started from it then Joe would be too upset to eat anything and he would go to school skipping meals again.

Adam thought this ploy merely a delaying tactic on his father’s part but didn’t say anything out loud to anybody.

Joe had eaten half a dozen mouthfuls of food before setting his fork down on the half-empty plate and picking up his glass of milk to wash it down. It was now that Ben decided to start the conversation.

“Do you have anything to tell me, Joseph?” Ben asked, wanting to know if Joe realised the effects of his own behaviour yesterday. Hopefully the boy would realise that he couldn’t continue on in the same manner he had been. If he could see the wrongfulness of his behaviour then half of the result had already been achieved.

“About what, Pa?” Joe said using his best angelic face. When all else failed, Joe always resorted to using his boyhood charms and puppy dog eyes on his father. They had worked for him many times in the past on both his father and brothers, especially Hoss. He could only hope that they would work for him again today.

Ben sighed aloud and told himself that Joe wasn’t really playing mind games with him. Now he decided to use the direct approach to show his displeasure at Joe’s vague answer.

“Tell me about what happened to you yesterday when you left the ranch when you weren’t supposed to,” Ben said in a sterner voice.

“Hoss told me I could,” Joe said with all the innocence he could muster. He knew that he had gone about getting his brother’s approval in a round about manner, but it had worked and that was all that mattered. All he had to do now was get Adam and his father to believe his story.

Hoss looked the most confused at the mention of his name. He could feel the questioning glances of his father and brother Adam on him as if to dare him to say that he had given the younger boy permission to leave the Ponderosa on his own. Hoss knew that Joe wasn’t allowed to go off on his own without telling anybody. He was trying to think back to the various conversations he had with Joe yesterday and when he exactly came out with this agreement he knew nothing about.

Ben wasn’t fooled though. One look at Hoss’s face and Ben knew that Joe had taken advantage of Hoss’s good nature and twisted it to his own gains. Adam just shook his head slightly and also knew that Hoss had been taken in by Joe’s cunning and sly game.

“Just exactly what did your brother Hoss say to make you think you could go off without anybody?” Ben now asked of his youngest son, trying not to loose his temper at the child.

Joe however just put on the same angelic mask as he had done before. He too was determined not to loose his temper this morning. Loosing his temper would not only cause his father to get angrier at him, but to Joe would also make the story he was trying to weave fall apart and admit his knowledge and guilt in the whole affair. If he looked genuinely innocent enough and told his father just how he saw the words spoken to him, there was nothing to say that his father wouldn’t believe him.

“I asked Hoss if I could go off and play after I finished school and he said that I could do whatever I wanted as long as I finished my chores,” Joe said.

Ben smiled inwardly as he could plainly see that Joseph had intentionally left out certain bits of information to Hoss that would have shed more light on what the smaller boy exactly planned to do after school.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Joe,” Hoss said a little annoyed at his brother.

“What did you exactly mean Hoss?” Adam asked with a voice that dripped of cynicism. Adam looked at Hoss with a face that shouted he was just itching to know what Hoss had meant when he said the words.

“I think we all know that Joe knew all to well that Hoss didn’t mean for you to be wandering off on your own, don’t we Joseph” Ben said and looked at his youngest son with scolding words in his tongue.

The look was enough though and Joe felt himself shrinking into the seat trying to avoid his father’s intent gaze.

Ben now changed the tone of the conversation all together and now spoke in a very gentle voice. One that sounded like he was more worried that angry. “Joseph,” he said and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder for emphasis, “You brothers and I just want to make sure you are safe. That’s why there are rules about where you can go and where you can’t on your own. It’s not that we want to keep you from playing or meeting your friends. There are many things that could happen to you when we don’t know where you are. You might get into trouble and nobody will be there to help you because we don’t know where you are. Do you understand son?”

The softer touch had done it’s job as Ben watched tears trickle down the young boy’s face in remorse. The idea that Joe worried his family was a better weapon than threatening the boy for lying and conniving against them.

“Yes, Pa,” Joe said as he tried to choke back his tears. He wiped them onto his sleeve and then shyly said he was going to be late for school.

“See you this afternoon Joseph,” Ben said as he gave his son an awkward hug.

Hoss felt just as awkward as Joe after a while and excused himself saying that he would go with Joe to make sure he got to school okay.

Adam and Ben sat at the table for a while without saying anything. Both of them had different approaches as to how they handled the youngest member of the family, but Adam had to admit that his father often got the better results. His method might be more flawed or be gentler and softer in punishment, but they had the same impact almost as the boy getting a stern lecture or spanking.

“I have to be going too son,” Ben now said to his eldest son. He apologized a few more times about being away from the ranch for such long periods of time and leaving Adam in charge again. He promised he would let Adam know how things were going later in the day.

Adam sat at the table sitting at his coffee and trying to figure out how to mend the relationship between him and Little Joe. He was planning to go away to college very soon and different want to leave the current tension between them all that time. He finally made himself get up and attend to the work that needed to be done outside. These thoughts were never far from his mind the entire day though and he went about the chores.

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