The Gold Dust Letter

By Kierin

"You were slicking down your hair," alleged Little Joe in the teasing voice he'd learned from his brothers.

"Was not!" If there was one thing Hoss didn't like to be accused of it was combing his hair.

Leaning forward on the wagon seat, Little Joe smirked at his big brother. "Was too. What took you so long then? I was waiting in the wagon for an – an hour!"

Hoss's eyes rolled skyward. "It was not an hour."

Joe swept his left hand toward Hoss's head. "Seemed like it. Take off your hat."

Hoss refused to look at his brother. "No."

"C'mon, take it off."

"No."

"See?" Joe felt he'd proved his point. He rested contentedly back against the wooden seat.

After a moment of listening to the steady clomping of the horses as they pulled the buckboard toward town, Hoss glanced at Joe. "So what if I was? At least I don't look like I just wrastled a grizzly like you."

Little Joe wiped his dirty palms on his green corduroy pants, pulled up a wayward suspender, and extended one arm to examine the intricate stitching around the patch Hop Sing had recently sewn into the elbow of his shirt sleeve. "Just 'cause you're soft on that new blond girl don't mean I gotta get clean."

"I ain't soft on Rebecca!"

"See?" Little Joe was enjoying this. Hoss's cheeks were turning pink. "You even know her name."

"That's 'cause Mrs. Orowitz introduced her when me and Pa was in town last week." Hoss instantly knew his voice didn't sound as carefree as he tried to make it.

The wily expression that came to Little Joe's face had been invented by Adam. "Shoulda washed more'n your hair. You smell like a horse stall."

Hoss reached over and batted Joe's hat sideways. "Yeah? Well you smell like the chicken coop."

Both boys smiled. They'd bantered like this since the day Joe had learned to talk--and they didn't want it any other way.

Little Joe straightened his hat and his eyes roved among the tall pine trees as they passed a small pond near the border of the Ponderosa and Greene Valley. When his gaze settled on a dark four-legged form on the opposite side of the pond, at first he didn't think much of it. He and his brothers often stopped their horses here for a drink and occasionally wild horses came down from the hills for a sip of the cool, clear water. But as he twisted on the seat for a better look, Joe saw that this horse was saddled and lathered. Obviously it belonged to someone, and that someone was apparently trespassing on the Ponderosa. Little Joe nudged Hoss with his left hand and told him to stop the wagon.

Coming out of a daydream, Hoss blinked and turned to his little brother. "What's wrong?" he asked as Little Joe stood and hopped off the wagon before it had come to a halt even though Pa was all the time asking him not to do that.

"There's a horse," Joe called excitedly over his shoulder. "C'mon!"

There was no way Hoss could resist. He quickly tied the reins to the wagon seat and jumped down to join his brother. Memories of the horse they'd hoisted out of the pit came to him and he briefly wondered why he always ended up finding animals in trouble. As he got his first glimpse of the horse, he noted that it was drinking greedily, as if it hadn't had water in weeks. Its normally pine-cone brown hair looked almost black in places from sweat and lather, and its black mane and tail glistened in the sunlight. It was carrying a heavy load. Hoss wondered just what was in those drooping saddlebags.

As Little Joe neared the horse, Hoss took three giant steps and grabbed Joe around the waist. Hoss was just as curious as his little brother, but he was also generally more concerned about getting into trouble than Little Joe ever seemed to be. He looked around, as if expecting to find someone lurking in the trees nearby, waiting to catch two thieves. Little Joe looked around too, wondering what his big brother was searching for. Finally, Hoss released him, saying, "We gotta go up to him real slow. He don't know us."

Little Joe instantly complied, inching toward the horse with his left hand outstretched. "Hey, boy," he greeted quietly. The horse stomped at the ground with its forelegs but didn't shy away from Joe's touch.

"He's all tuckered out," observed Hoss as he slowly walked around the horse, assessing its condition with his eyes like he'd seen animal doctors do. "No wonder. There's somethin' mighty heavy in these saddlebags."

"What do you reckon is in 'em?" returned Joe, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Don't know."

"We could look." There was more than a little hinting in his voice.

"Whoever owns him shouldn't a run him like they done." Hoss slid his hand along the horse's muscular neck and then across the small white star on the animal's forehead.

Joe brushed a hand across the cracked leather of the saddlebags and pointed to the clasp. "Maybe we can find out who owns him if we look in here."

"He ain't got a brand." Hoss squinted as he looked around again. Yellow rays of early morning sun glittered on the surface of the still water. The woods seemed more silent than normal. No birds sang and no small creatures scurried about on the forest floor. There was no sign of anyone except himself and Little Joe and that made Hoss move his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. He usually knew when he was about to cross the line into trouble. Sometimes he did it anyway. Often he was able to avoid that irrevocable last step. He had a bad feeling about this. But when he opened his mouth, he found himself saying, "All right, little brother, let's look in 'em."

Hoss opened one side while Little Joe opened the other. Both held up identical white canvas bags with indiscernible black lettering stenciled on the outside. Little Joe tried to hold his with one hand the way Hoss was and ended up dropping it, causing the string tying the top closed to loosen. A bit of the fine, sand-like dust spilled out onto the ground. Little Joe's eyes couldn't have gotten any bigger. "Gold!"

"These are filled with gold dust," Hoss confirmed. "Real, genuine gold dust."

"We're rich!" shouted his brother.

Hoss's voice took on a serious tone. "Little Joe, these ain't ours. We gotta find the owner of this horse. This is a lot of money."

"What if we can't find him? Then can we keep it?"

"Maybe if we do find him, he'll give us a reward." Hoss reached into the saddlebags again and this time pulled out a small envelope.

Little Joe immediately tried to grab it from him, but Hoss held it high above his little brother's head. "It's a letter," he said.

"Let's read it!"

Hoss pushed Joe's outstretched arms away. "No, Little Joe, you cain't read someone else's mail. We could get in a whole mess a trouble."

Joe's lips formed a pout before he got another idea. "Maybe we could just open it a little bit and see if there's a name."

Hoss wasn't changing his mind. He clearly remembered when he was about ten years old and he'd secretly read several pages from Ma's personal diary--the one she hid under the mattress of the four-poster bed she and Pa had had back in New Orleans. He'd then made the dire mistake of calling Mrs. Sawyer a "pompous and feisty old woman with no tact"--a word-for-word quote, though he hadn't pronounced "feisty" quite right. Marie instantly knew where young Erik had acquired that opinion. Hoss had been sent to bed without supper--pretty much the worst punishment he could imagine--and later Pa had given him an embarrassing lecture on respecting other people's privacy.

He also remembered what had happened when they'd taken that deerskin map out of the dead Indian's hand. "Sorry, little brother," he said, "we ain't openin' this letter."

Little Joe kicked at the ground and let out an annoyed sigh. "Well, I don't know how we're gonna find the owner then." Sometimes his spoilsport brothers made no sense.

"We can look at the outside though."

Little Joe's head jerked up, and he was surprised to find that Hoss had one of Adam's crafty smiles on his face. Hoss held the letter toward Little Joe, pointing to the outside. "See here? It says 'S. B.' That must be his initials."

"The horse's?"

Sometimes his younger brother made him feel really smart. "Whoever owns the horse, Little Joe."

"S. B.," Joe repeated. He frowned. "Who ya think that is?"

Hoss scratched the back of his neck as he thought about it. "There's Sally Prescott."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Her initials would be S. P., Hoss." Sometimes his big brother made him feel really smart.

"Well, I cain't think of anyone else." He snapped his fingers. "I know. Let's ask Tess. She's lived around here longer than most folks. She'll probably know. There oughta be plenty of room at the Greene place for this horse, too. I bet he could use a big scoop of feed and a nice soft bed of hay. Couldn't ya, fella? Once we find his owner we'll come back for him."

Little Joe quickly nodded his affirmation and picked up his bag of gold dust, careful not to spill anymore. He tied the string on tighter using the special knot he usually reserved for his fishing line and glanced at Hoss as he hefted the heavy sack back into the saddlebag. "What about Pa?"

"Him and Adam rode up to the Bar J to look at that bull they got for sale, remember?"

The younger boy's face broke into a grin as he recalled standing on the front porch and waving to his father and Adam earlier that morning. The Bar J was a good half-day's ride away. Pa and Adam wouldn't be back until late in the evening. He and Hoss had the whole day to search for the owner.

"Pa don't take kindly to trespassers. Me and you are in charge while he's gone, so it's up to us to figure this out." The funny quiver in Hoss's voice made it sound like he was trying to convince himself that what he was saying was the truth.

"Yeah, we gotta 'cause we're in charge," seconded Little Joe with twelve-year-old sincerity. "Pa'll be real proud of us."

They tied the horse to the wagon and climbed back onto the high seat. A real honest-to-gosh mystery and a whole day to solve it. Hoss slapped the reins lightly on the horses' rumps and they pulled the wagon toward the Greene ranch. Thoughts of chores, provisions, the errands they'd planned to do in town, and--perhaps most importantly--Hop Sing could not have been farther from their minds.

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

Tess stared off at the distant peaks for a moment as she thought about it. A smile formed on her lips. "Sam Bryant."

"Who's he?" asked Hoss.

"He owns the Circle B west of town. There's a stagecoach stop near his property."

It was Hoss's turn to smile. He remembered someone named Sam Bryant had introduced himself after Hoss had spoken in front of the town council about the wolf fights. He'd even said something about Hoss giving a "right fine oration" and Hoss had had to ask Adam if he should be offended or complimented.

"You reckon this is his horse?

"Could be." Tess fingered the seal on the envelope. "I wonder what the letter says."

"We ain't openin' it," Hoss warned, snatching it out of her hands.

"I know. I'm just wonderin' is all." Tess got a goofy expression on her face. "Sam doesn't have a wife and he isn't very old. Maybe this is from a lost love back east, asking him to return and marry her. Now that he has all this gold, he can go fetch her."

Hoss and Little Joe rolled their eyes. Girls.

Joe crossed his arms over his chest. "I sure hope not," he stated very seriously.

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

"Sorry, boys." Sam Bryant pushed back his hat and rested his weight against a fence post. "Just checked my stock this morning. Nothing missing. You might check at the Calhoun place, though. Jim's got a horse like the one you described."

Little Joe asked, "You ain't missin' any gold dust, are ya?" He immediately felt Hoss's elbow clip his left shoulder.

Sam Bryant's eyes widened. "Gold dust? Why? You got some?"

"Ah, n-no sir, Mr. Bryant." Hoss winced a little as the lie came out. Sure enough, that was suspicion on Sam Bryant's face.

"You two don't look the type anyway."

"Look the type, sir?"

"Stealin'. Ya ain't heard? The Nevada City Mercantile was robbed a few days ago. News came in on the stagecoach yesterday. Man made off with five thousand in gold dust."

"Five thousand dollars?!" Little Joe hadn't guessed that the bags were that valuable. In fact he didn't know five thousand dollars could fit into such a small amount of space.

Sam Bryant looked longingly toward the west. "Pure shame, too. The folks who own the mercantile are a real good sort."

"Mr. Bryant?" asked Hoss. "Does anybody call you S. B.?"

Mr. Bryant chuckled. "Can't say I've heard anybody call me by my initials that-a-way, no."

Hoss and Little Joe thanked Mr. Bryant for his time and the information and quickly left in the wagon before Sam had a chance to remember their involvement in the disappearance of Jack's wolves.

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

Jim Calhoun reckoned his dark brown mustang was accounted for seeing as how he was seated atop him. "Reckon I'd just be a-sittin' on the ground if he were missin'. But I reckon the one you're talkin' about sounds like the one that was stolen from the Fairview."

"Stolen?" Little Joe asked in surprise. Pa sure wasn't going to be happy when he heard about all this stealin' going on.

"One of Abe Donnelson's best mustangs disappeared yesterday. First horse-stealing there's been around here in a long time. Don't sit comfortable with me at all. Probably was Indians 'cause they only took the one horsethe finest of the bunch--even though there were at least five in the corral. You boys know something about where that horse mighta ended up?"

Little Joe craned his neck so he could get a look at Hoss's face. His brother was smiling, but it was the type of smile that didn't reveal a thing. Hoss asked, "Can you tell us how to get to the Fairview?"

Jim gave instructions that Little Joe couldn't quite follow, but Hoss nodded as if he understood perfectly.

He didn't understand perfectly. In fact he didn't understand at all, but they headed down the road that eventually went all the way to Sacramento anyhow. And by one of those strokes of pure luck that Adam often marveled about his brothers' ability to find when they most needed it, there was a crude wooden sign on the spur that led to the Fairview and Grizzly Hill ranches and Hoss directed the team onto that road as if he'd known it was coming up all along.

"Can I drive?"

Hoss frowned at him. "Pa don't like you to when he's not around."

"C'mon. We ain't going very far. Just let me drive for a little while." Joe begged Hoss with his big dark eyes as much as he did with the words.

With a reluctant squint, Hoss handed the reins over to his little brother but stayed leaning forward even after Little Joe had them positioned correctly in his hands. Hoss's gloved fingers twitched, ready to take the reins back the instant it seemed Little Joe was in trouble.

But Joe was in control of the team as soon as he slapped the reins against their rumps and he just smiled at Hoss's obvious surprise at his ability to steer so well. "Adam's been letting me drive sometimes when we take the eggs to the Orowitzs. At first I just sat on his lap but then he let me try it by myself and he said I did a good job." Little Joe slid a look at Hoss from the sides of his eyes and added, "Don't tell Pa."

Hoss smiled then, remembering Adam had given him horse-riding lessons on the sly back in New Orleans. Indeed Little Joe looked comfortable at the helm and eventually Hoss relaxed and even spent some gazing at the wondrous Sierra peaks not far in the distance until –

Kit-chack.

The unmistakable sound of a rifle being cocked broke Hoss rudely out of a pleasant daydream about a certain blond-haired girl. Little Joe pulled back on the reins so hard and suddenly that the team reared and whinnied their disapproval. Two men stepped out of the surrounding trees, one with a rifle pointed at the small amount of space between the Cartwright brothers. Little Joe was immediately relieved to see that they weren't wearing bandanas over their mouths like all bandits did. Hoss wasn't so sure. He slid instinctively toward Joe and put one arm in front of the boy.

"This is Fairview property."

"Y-yes, sir, w-we know," stammered Hoss. "We was h-hoping to speak to the owner."

"What do you want with Abe?"

"We found his horse." Hoss frowned at his brother and Little Joe amended, "We, uh, we found a horse, and it – it might – it might not be his. It was just a regular horse and there – there wasn't nothin' in the saddlebags."

Even Little Joe was relieved when Hoss put a hand over Joe's mouth. "We heard he's missing a horse and we found one loose on the Ponderosa this morning," Hoss explained.

The gatekeepers' eyes met and they nodded at each other. The taller of the two pointed to a tree. "Tie your wagon there. The house is over the hill. We'll walk ya up there."

They followed the vaqueros up a slight incline, and as they marched over the crest, a large hacienda appeared in the valley below. Seeing the characteristic architecture, Hoss quickly realized that Mr. Donnelson's property, like Margaret and Tess Greene's, had once belonged to a Mexican family. As a man just a few years younger than Pa walked toward them from the nearby corral, Hoss wondered what had become of that family and if Carlos had known them.

Little Joe's mind was on other things--that his pa was bigger and taller than this man walking toward them and could easily whip him in a fair fight and that the man's clothes weren't as dirty as Pa's usually were by this time of the morning and that the black boots he was wearing must have been shined recently 'cause the sunlight glinted off them and Little Joe figured if he leaned down close he'd be able to see his reflection in them and that five thousand dollars in gold dust was enough money to buy all of Utah territory and then some and a whole herd of fine horses and any bull Pa and Adam chose and a big jar of candy from the tradin' post and this man walking toward them didn't look like he needed five thousand dollars nearly as badly as Joe's family did.

"You're two of Ben Cartwright's boys, aren't ya?" Mr. Donnelson called as he approached. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the two men and they moved toward the corral to join the group of hands examining the stock.

"We heard you was missin' a horse."

"A big brown one with a little star on his forehead," Joe added.

"Where'd you hear that?"

Hoss just couldn't get the rights of what it was about himself and Little Joe that made people get that tone of suspicion in their voice as Little Joe answered, "Mr. Calhoun told us. We found a horse and it looked like whoever owned him was tress-passin' on our land but we looked around and couldn't find no one so we figured maybe the horse just 'scaped. Our pa don't like us to keep things that belong to somebody else so we're tryin' to give the horse back but we can't find out who he belongs to."

Joe's long, innocent response cracked Mr. Donnelson's grim expression. The corners of his lips turned up the same way Pa's did during many of Little Joe's exaggerated explanations. "Brown mustang about the color of sandstone after a good rain with black mane and tail and a little speck of white between his eyes?"

"Yes, sir," the brothers replied. Hoss grinned but Little Joe bit his bottom lip as he thought about having to give Mr. Donnelson all the gold dust.

"Boys, I think you found my horse. I'll be. Figured I wouldn't be seeing him again. He's a fine horse, isn't he?"

"Oh, yes, sir," Hoss agreed. "But how'd he get all the way to the Ponderosa and why was he carryin' all that . . ."

Mr. Donnelson's hands went to his hips. "Speak up, son. What was he carrying?"

Hoss cleared his throat, stuffed his fists into his front pockets, and glanced from his little brother to Mr. Donnelson and back. "Well, you see, sir, there was – well, there was . . ."

"There was money," finished Little Joe. "Gold dust in two bags."

At that, Mr. Donnelson's jaw went slack, and he scratched his right eyebrow. "The money from the mercantile, you reckon?"

Hoss met his eyes. "Seems like it'd be a mighty big coincidence if it wasn't. I don't know of anyone in these parts who'd be riding around with that much gold dust in their saddlebags, do you?"

"Well I'll be," Mr. Donnelson said. "Tell you what. I'll send Andy--he's one of the hands--over to Nevada City to inform the sheriff. Andy's got a brother over to Nevada that he'd probably like to see." He called to one of the men near the corral. "Hank! Go fetch Andy for me."

Hank didn't take his eyes off the stock when he answered, "Cain't, boss. Ain't seen him in three days. He rode up to Crow Canyon to see about moving some of the herd up there, remember?"

Mr. Donnelson nodded. "Right, right. I'll have to send someone else then. I suppose the Nevada City sheriff'll take the gold dust and then he'll want to look over my mustang for clues. You boys got the horse with you?"

Hoss told him about leaving the horse behind until they figured out who he belonged to.

"Can I trust you boys to take care of him good and proper 'til I can fetch him?"

If there was one thing Hoss knew he could promise someone, it was that he'd take good care of a horse. "Yes, sir."

"Boys, I appreciate you coming by. I assume you can find your way back to your wagon?"

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

Well, it seemed there was nothing to do except head home. They had a powerful lot of chores to do anyway and it hadn't escaped Hoss's stomach's notice that Hoss and Little Joe hadn't eaten since breakfast¾ and that was a long, long, long time ago. In fact, the longer he thought about how long it had been, the weaker he felt and by the time they arrived back at the spot where they'd left the wagon he was ready to let Little Joe drive all the way home, for in his faint state he might direct the team right off the road. Speaking of the wagon, wasn't this where they'd left it?

"Joe? Where's the wagon?"

Little Joe pushed a tree branch away as he took a few more steps forward. "We left it right by the..." He stopped short. His hair bounced as he looked around. "We left it right here."

"Did you tie the reins?"

Hoss recognized the expression that came to his little brother's face. Little Joe hadn't, but he was considering lying about it.

"Dang it, Little Joe!"

"I meant to, Hoss! I just – I forgot. There was a rifle pointin' at us, 'member?"

Hoss's voice reached a volume and pitch it seldom attained. "You forgot? You forgot!"

Little Joe's voice got louder too. "Can't a fella forget something every once in a while? Golly."

"Not about this! Not when it means the horses just run off." Hoss made a sound of exasperation in his throat and pointed at his brother. "I'm going to walk up the road a piece and look for the wagon. The horses mighta got to grazing in that meadow we passed. You stay here."

"Un uh," Little Joe retorted, taking a step closer to Hoss. "I'm coming with you."

"No you don't. Last thing I need is you getting lost too. You sit here and wait."

Little Joe stood straighter and his hands went to his hips as anger flashed in his eyes. "I don't gotta do what you tell me. I don't gotta do what anybody tells me!"

Hoss was unimpressed by the boast. "Pa'll put you over his knee quicker'n you can spit if he hears you say that."

Little Joe attempted to shrug in indifference, but the mention of Pa quickly drained most of the bravado out of him. He looked up at Hoss with apologetic eyes. His voice was much quieter when he said, "I don't wanna stay here by myself, Hoss."

Hoss's expression softened, his usual mild-manner returning. He sighed. "All right, little brother, we'll look together, but you stay right beside me, you hear?" Joe nodded ardently, and Hoss pointed at him again. "And once we find the wagon we are going straight home. You attract trouble worse'n a liquored up preacher."

Little Joe had something to say about that. It sure seemed like most of the times he'd gotten in trouble lately Hoss had been right there alongside him. But Pa was all the time telling him to consider con-sequences and he figured the con-sequences of saying so to Hoss without Pa or Adam around to protect him might not be good. Instead he commented, "Pa says horses are real smart. They can find their way home on their own."

Hoss nodded and gave Little Joe a gentle whap on the shoulder. "Yeah, but how're we gonna get home without them?"

Little Joe hadn't thought about that so he stayed quiet. The wagon wasn't in the clearing. The boys looked up and down the road several times before deciding there was nothing to do but start walking back to Eagle Station. Mr. Donnnelson had seemed nice enough but the group of hands over near the corral hadn't looked like they'd be too keen on having two boys hanging around, and Hoss and Little Joe for sure didn't want to borrow anymore horses. They had too many horses to worry about as it was. Hopefully someone would come along eventually and give them a ride to town. Both boys silently prayed that that someone wouldn't be Pa or Adam.

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

"Dang it, Little Joe, can't you walk any faster?" Hoss called, turning around to see his brother several paces behind.

"Me legs ain't as long as yours," cried Little Joe, echoing a reproof Pa had often given Hoss and Adam when they'd complained about their tagalong little brother not being able to keep up. After he'd said it his gaze settled on something squirming in the road and Little Joe pulled up his pant legs, squatted in the dirt and leaned low to examine a caterpillar that had just about made it into the smashed-down yellow grasses at the roadside. Little Joe coaxed the brown, furry critter onto the palm of his hand and set it in the grass about four feet from the roadway to keep it safe. Then he ran to catch up with his big brother.

Hoss didn't slow his pace. He didn't notice when the mischievous look surfaced in Little Joe's eyes. The boy stared intently at the corner of the envelope sticking out of Hoss's back pocket. He took bigger, faster steps until he was just behind his older brother. Slowly, carefully, he reached out his left hand. With his thumb and pointer finger he grabbed the corner of the letter and stopped in place. Hoss continued walking, and Little Joe held the letter in his hands.

He quickly turned his back to Hoss and ripped open the envelope. Hoss heard the unmistakable sound. Before Joe'd had time to read, Hoss had backtracked three giant steps. He grabbed Joe's arm and whirled him around.

"Joseph Cartwright!"

Little Joe never knew Hoss could sound so much like Pa. He whisked the envelope and the letter behind his back as he and his older brother eyed each other in a standoff of stubbornness.

Try as he did, Hoss couldn't hold onto the anger. His curiosity got the better of him. He leaned in. "What's it say?"

Little Joe grinned and relaxed and a familiar spark reappeared in his eyes. He brought the letter out from behind his back and read slowly. "Dear S. B. I am coming back for you. Do not worry. My heart belongs to you. I love you. Sincerely yours, A. A." Joe gasped in shock, wrinkled his nose, and held the note at arm's length. "It is a love letter! Yuck!"

Hoss's mind was on something else. "Aw no, now we got two sets of initials: S. B. and A. A."

"And I bet one of them's the robber's." Joe pulled up the suspender that kept slipping down and scratched his nose as he thought over his plan. "Hoss," he proposed excitedly, "what if we caught him?"

"Caught who?"

"The robber! Remember how Mr. Calhoun said the people at the mercantile are a good sort? Pa said that about the Orowitzs when they first came to Eagle Station and I think it's true 'cause they give me free candy all the time when Pa's not lookin', and Mr. Orowitz gave us the Ponderosa and I figure that's a really big present. I bet the people who own the mercantile will give us a reward like you said. And if we catch the robber they might even put our names in that newspaper Adam's always readin'. And Pa'll be so proud of us I figure he won't even notice that the wagon's missin'."

"Little Joe, Pa's gonna notice. So's Adam."

"C'mon, Hoss, we still got the rest of the day to find whoever stole Mr. Donnelson's horse and the gold dust. Pa said he and Adam won't be back until after dark. When the sheriff comes from Nevada City we could have the robber tied up waiting for him!"

"Dang it, Little Joe, you got me in enough trouble as it is. If the wagon ain't there when Pa gets back, he's gonna …" Hoss stopped; the consequences were too dire to contemplate. For not the first time, he sent up a desperate prayer that the horses would indeed find their way home. "And we're already behind on those extra chores Pa gave us. What you and me are gonna do is walk to town and get Big Dan to give us a ride to the Ponderosa. I have the money Pa gave us. And then we're staying there until Pa and Adam gets home."

"But Hoss – "

"I'm not talking about it anymore, Joe. You know Pa left me in charge."

Little Joe made a face of disgust and kicked the ground with one boot. "You're starting to sound like Adam and I don't – " He stopped when he heard a wagon approaching and Hoss put a big arm around his shoulders and directed him to the side of the road.

"Hey, boys!" called Sam Bryant as he pulled up alongside them. "Did you find the man you were looking for?"

"It was Abe Donnelson's horse, sir," answered Hoss.

"Ah," Mr. Bryant said as he moved the reins to one hand and set his hat at a jaunty angle with the other. "I'm sure he'll be glad to have it returned to him. I don't have to tell you boys how valuable a good horse is in this country. What happened to your team?"

Hoss's brow furrowed and he cleared his throat. Little Joe looked sideways, licked his lower lip, and tilted his hat in an imitation of the gesture Sam had just performed.

Mr. Bryant laughed. "So it's a long story, then?"

"Yes, sir," confirmed Hoss.

"Maybe you two should climb aboard and tell me on the way to town?"

The boys thanked him as Hoss climbed onto the seat beside him and Little Joe stepped up onto the rear wheel and vaulted into the back of the wagon. Sam raised an eyebrow as Little Joe leaned between him and Hoss. Hoss began the story of their day. Little Joe added dramatic gestures where he felt they were necessary and made sure Sam Bryant understood that Joe was not to blame for not tying the reins. A fella cannot be expected to think clearly when there's a rifle pointing in his direction.

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

Not long after, Hoss and Little Joe told a very similar story to Ruth Orowitz and eagerly accepted when she twisted the lid off the licorice container and tilted the jar toward them. They both thanked her and quickly took big bites of the candy.

"But we couldn't find S. B.," sighed Little Joe around his mouthful.

A high-pitched voice came from the trading post's doorway. "Did you say S. B.?"

"Rebecca!" exclaimed Hoss. Without thinking, he reached up and smoothed down his hair and then wiped his right hand across his face. Little Joe rolled his eyes. He was never going to be that way about girls, he just knew it.

Rebecca didn't acknowledge Hoss. She was staring at the younger Cartwright. She waved her hand, indicating that Little Joe should come toward her.

"Um, this here's my brother," continued Hoss as he and Joe walked toward the doorway. "His name's Joe."

She took a step toward Joe and demanded again, "Did you just say S. B.?"

"Yeah," mumbled Little Joe as he peered up at the tall girl with long strands of blond hair falling out of her loose bun. "We been looking for him."

"Him?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you sure he's a him?"

Little Joe looked up at Hoss. What was wrong with this girl?

Hoss knocked Joe's shoulder lightly with his elbow. "Where's the letter?"

"I don't got it."

"Ya do too, Joe. Give it to me."

"I told ya I don't got it." Little Joe pulled his empty pockets inside out for proof.

"Dang it, Little Joe!"

"It ain't my fault!" Joe set his mouth in a determined line and didn't change his expression even as it dawned on him that he was the last one to have the letter. He offered, "Uh, I remember what it said, though."

"What did it say?" Rebecca asked eagerly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Little Joe spoke in a monotone voice. "Dear S. B. I am going to get you. Your heart belongs to me. I love you. Sincerely yours, A. A."

"That is not what it said!" countered Hoss. The boys argued about the wording for a few seconds until they noticed that Rebecca's face had blanched as white as her blouse. "R-Rebecca?" tried Hoss. "Y-you look like you just saw a three-legged bobcat dancin' the two-step."

Her lips moved but no sound came out.

"What?" Hoss and Little Joe asked in unison.

Her voice grew increasingly louder. "He loves me. He loves me!"

Hoss's face was a picture of confusion. "Who does?"

"Andy." Rebecca tossed her head slightly as she recovered from her shock. "A. A. is Andrew Allen. S. B. stands for 'Sweet Becca'—that's his nickname for me, and sometimes he just calls me S. B. for short." She threw her hands into the air in excitement. "Andy said he loves me!"

Hoss was incredulous. "You're telling me the letter is for you? You got a fella? Wait a minute. Andrew. Andy. Joe, ain't that the name of the fella missing from the Fairview?"

Rebecca's eyes were now set solidly on Hoss's face. "What do you mean 'missing'?"

"They ain't seen him in a couple days. Went out to some canyon and didn't come back."

Joe nodded in rhythm with Hoss's explanation.

"Arthur." Rebecca practically spit the name.

"Who?"

"Arthur."

Hoss and Little Joe exchanged another look. Things were getting way too confusing.

"Arthur is Andy's brother. He came out here from Virginia a couple months ago. Lives in Nevada City. He ain't like Andy. He's trouble. Been in jail before."

Things began to come together in Hoss's mind. He rested his large hands gently on Rebecca's upper arms. "Rebecca? The Nevada City Mercantile was robbed a few days ago and we found what we figure is the loot with this letter. You figure Arthur'd be the type to rob the mercantile?"

"He's the type. But Andy wouldn't . . ."

Without realizing it, Hoss called upon tactics his father used to get the truth out of his sons. "Andy wouldn't what? We found this note on the horse, Rebecca. A horse that was stolen from the ranch where Andy works."

"If Andy's involved, Arthur must have talked him into it. He never could resist that brother of his. Oh Hoss, he was working and saving up money so we could get married and buy our own land. Why'd he have to go and ruin it? Oh Andy."

"But I don't understand somethin'," proclaimed Little Joe. "We found the horse and the gold on the Ponderosa. How'd it get there?"

"Maybe we oughta ask Andy and Arthur that," Hoss decided.

Little Joe giggled. "Pa thinks I do stupid things sometimes, but losing your horse and all that money gots to be worse than the stuff I do." He pushed his hat far back on his head in a gesture that meant he was feeling good about himself and took another bite of his licorice. " 'Specially if ya stole it first. Hey, where ya going?"

Rebecca turned at the bottom of the trading post stairs, holding her full, dark blue skirt up out of the grime of the street. "Come on, we need to find Andy."

"Rebecca, if he just stole five thousand dollars, I don't think this feller of yours is gonna be real keen on us findin' him"

"Oh I know where he is, Hoss," she said lightly.

Hoss's jaw dropped but Little Joe declared with no small amount of eagerness, "Well let's go capture him then!" His hat fell off as he threw his arms into the air and he quickly picked it up and joined Rebecca in the street.

The confused expression was back on Hoss's face. Rebecca smiled up at him. "That part in the note: 'Your heart belongs to me'--he's telling me to meet him at Heart Rock. That's a place we found when we first came west. We carved our initials and a heart into the sandstone. There's a little cave nearby. I'm sure I can find it."

"So you reckon Andy's waiting for you there?" asked Hoss.

"I'm sure Andy's there. I don't know if he's waiting for me. He probably thinks I never received this letter if it was still on the horse. Oh Andy," she said again, shaking her head. "Let's go. Will you two drive me out there?"

Hoss cheeks went from pink to red. "Uh, we ain't got any horses. We sorta lost our wagon."

Little Joe shot his big brother a look, daring Hoss to blame it on him in front of Rebecca.

Rebecca stepped forward and took one of Hoss's hands in hers. "Could you rent some for the afternoon? Please, Hoss. I must find Andy."

Little Joe grinned as big as he ever had when Hoss's shoulders nearly reached his ears and then Hoss sighed and agreed and they tramped toward the livery.

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

"We're almost there. This way." Rebecca directed her horse away from the small stream they'd been following and up the hill covered in the high green grass of early summer. The snowy peaks of the Sierras towered in the distance and Hoss almost chuckled as he thought about his daydreams while looking at those same peaks earlier in the day.

Little Joe tapped his horse's sides with his boot heels as horse and rider ascended the hill. Joe sat straight in the saddle, beaming with importance. This horse was larger than Paint, and a mile or so back Hoss had commented on how well Little Joe was handling her.

"Andy!" yelled Rebecca. Hoss and Little Joe jumped. They'd never known girls could yell like that. "Andy! It's Rebecca! Where are you?"

Cupping his left hand around his mouth, Little Joe joined in, "Andy!" Boy he couldn't wait to catch the robber. This was the most exciting thing ever to happen to him! Just wait'll Pa heard the story.

At the top of the hill, Rebecca pointed to a tawny sandstone formation that looked not unlike the one on the Ponderosa that Adam and Hoss had named The Little Castle because of its distinctive shape. She put her horse into a gallop toward Heart Rock. "Andy!"

Little Joe guided his horse up beside Hoss's and they watched as a boy, nearly as tall as Hoss but as thin as Adam, stepped out from behind the rock. Rebecca jumped off her horse and ran to embrace the young man, who removed his worn hat to reveal a mess of red hair before he leaned down to take Rebecca in his arms.

"Stay here, Little Joe," Hoss ordered as he dismounted, handed his brother the horse's reins, and lumbered down the hill.

"Hoss Cartwright, this is Andy Allen." Rebecca waved her right hand from one young man to the other as she introduced them.

Hoss didn't extend his hand as he normally would have. "I need to ask you somethin'," he said to Andy, unaware that he had the same suspicion in his eyes and voice that he'd wondered over earlier in day. "Did you steal a horse and five thousand dollars from the mercantile in Nevada City?"

Andy held Rebecca close, and for a dreadful moment Hoss thought he might be planning to take her hostage. But Andy didn't have a gun that Hoss could see--and then Hoss noticed something in Andy's green eyes. This kid was frightened--as frightened as Hoss had been when Manuel and his gang had made Tess and him ride with them after they'd shot Isabella and ransacked Greene Valley.

Andy cleared his throat and stepped toward Hoss. "I – I c-can explain if you – "

From behind them a familiar youthful voice shouted, "You grab him and hold him, Hoss, and I'll tie his hands behind his back!" The other three turned to find a determined dark-haired boy standing just behind Hoss in grass as high as his waist, his tongue curled into one cheek, feet wide apart, holding a two-foot piece of rope in his fists. Hoss quickly looked toward the top of the hill to find his and Joe's horses tied to a bush. Then his eyes landed again on Andy, who had taken several steps backward and was holding out his hands in a beseeching way as Little Joe moved toward him in slow, long strides. Hoss's blue eyes widened as he took in the scene; he almost laughed out loud. "Little Joe! Come here. Now."

Was Hoss going to sound like Pa all the time from now on? Little Joe wondered. But he didn't turn around. When Rebecca stepped in front of him, he deepened his voice and requested, "Please move, ma'am. I'm trying to ap – ap – appa – appara – I'm tryin' to catch an outlaw."

That was it. Hoss couldn't take it anymore. The laughter started in his belly and guffawed out his mouth. The sides of Rebecca's eyes crinkled and she began to giggle, holding one small hand to her right side. Andy's expression was blank. He'd backed up as far as he could and was flattened against Heart Rock. A storm raged in Little Joe's eyes as he glared at Hoss and Rebecca. He whipped his hat off his head and threw it hard on the ground. "Stop laughin'!" he fumed. He couldn't help it; he stomped his foot.

Then Andy started. He wasn't sure what Rebecca and the Cartwright she'd brought with her had found so funny but he knew the two of them laughing like all get-out was a hilarious picture in itself. He covered his mouth with his right hand and let the tension run out of arms and legs as he leaned his rangy frame against the rock.

In absolute defeat, Little Joe dropped to the ground cross-legged at a place where the grass was shorter, threw down the rope to join his hat, cupped his chin in his hands, and pouted like only he could. He didn't even pull up the unruly suspender when it slipped all the way down to the crook of his elbow. Seeing the boy's tormented expression, Andy pushed away from the rock and walked toward him as Hoss's and Rebecca's laughter trailed off. Andy sat cross-legged in a disproportionate mirror image of Little Joe, stuck out his right hand and announced, "I'm Andy Allen."

Little Joe swiped at his eyes with his left hand as he looked up. He shook Andy's hand. "I'm Joe Cartwright."

"Thought you were one of the Cartwright boys. I've seen you in town with your pa. I figure you found some saddlebags with a mighty interesting surprise inside them, am I right?"

Little Joe sniffled and nodded. "We found a horse on the Ponderosa and in the saddlebags was a whole buncha gold dust and a note for S. B."

"Sweet Becca," Andy acknowledged.

"Yeah."

"And you found out that the gold dust was stolen?"

"Yeah."

"And you thought I was the robber?"

Joe sniffled again. "Ain't ya?"

"Well I admit I was involved, but it was my brother Arthur who did the robbing." Andy picked up Joe's hat and brushed the dust off it. He handed it to Little Joe. "He found me up in Crow Canyon. I'd written to tell him I was heading up there for a couple days to see if it was fit to use as grazing land. He was hidin' out waitin' for me. Had the gold from the mercantile with him and said we could ride north and start a whole new life with the money."

Joe met his eyes. "But ya didn't go with him?"

"Nope," Andy said, shifting on the grass as Rebecca and Hoss sat down beside Little Joe. "See, I know the folks who run the mercantile. Their last name's Wilson and they came out west about two years ago with hardly anything. But Mrs. Wilson is a real good cook and she made meals for all the miners and pretty soon she and her husband had enough money to open a store. And they let the miners pay for things in gold dust and keep their prices as low as they can even though there sure as heck isn't much competition. I told Arthur as much and he said he was going north with or without me and if I wasn't coming with him he was taking my horse. Well, I worked up a plan in my head and told him I'd help him get a horse and I'd go north with him. I rode down to the Fairview that night and took the best mustang from the corral. When I met up with Arthur he put the two bags of gold dust in the mustang's saddlebags. He didn't know that I put a note to Becca in the saddlebags too. When we stopped to rest I tied the mustang's reins real loose and sure enough he ran off while we were sleeping. Figured he'd head back to the Fairview but those critters always can surprise you. Arthur was spittin' nails when he woke up and found the horse had run off. He took Bonnie. She's my horse, a paint – looks a lot like the one I've seen you riding, Joe. And he just left me there."

For not the first time that day Little Joe's eyes were as wide as they could get. He leaned toward Andy. "So you're a hero?"

Andy's cheeks flushed. "Nah. I'm lucky someone like you found the mustang. Some people would have just taken the money for themselves and not tried to find the owner."

Little Joe glanced at Hoss. "Hoss, we gotta give that gold dust back to the Wilsons," he decided.

Hoss gently slapped his little brother's back and stood up. "You're right. And right now we need to get these horses back to town and me 'n' you gotta get back to the Ponderosa 'fore Pa and Adam come home."

"And," Andy chimed in as Rebecca helped him stand, "I have to get back to the Fairview. I need to tell them it was me who took the horse. And I need to tell them about Arthur."

"Hey, we could track Arthur! Pa would be so proud of us," suggested Little Joe as he and Hoss trudged up the hill to their waiting horses.

Hoss rolled his eyes to heaven and then down toward the boy. "Don't even think about it, little brother. Pa and Adam are gonna be back anytime now, and we ain't done a lick of work since they left. Pa's gonna have our hides as it is."

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

A sight in front of the trading post caused Hoss and Little Joe to stop short as they exited the livery. There was their wagon. A familiar small man clad in black sat on the seat, gripping the reins tightly. He peered at the boys; his expression was not happy. "What you think you are doing?"

"Ah, Hop Sing, we, uh – we – "

"We found a horse," Little Joe completed Hoss's sentence.

"A horse in a pit?"

"Naw, a horse by a pond."

"Get in now. We go home."

Hoss tried to sound jovial as he climbed up. "W-we're mighty glad to see you, Hop Sing."

As he jumped in the back, Little Joe called, "We're mighty glad to see the wagon and horses, too."

Hop Sing's lips didn't curve into their usual amiable smile. After he called to the horses, his mouth returned to a straight, thin-lipped line.

Little Joe figured no two people had ever done as many chores in one hour as he and Hoss had just finished. They'd groomed, fed and watered the horses, mucked out the stalls, swept out the barn and storage shed, fed the chickens, straightened the bunkroom, chopped wood, carried water for Hop Sing, checked the herd, and hung up all the tack.

When they came out of the barn breathing sighs of relief that they'd been able to get it all done before Pa and Adam returned, they found Hop Sing standing stoically on the front porch with his arms crossed, staring toward the road. "Wh-what are you doing, Hop Sing?" asked Hoss.

"I wait. Have long story to tell father."

The boys' eyes became like saucers. "No, Hop Sing you can't!" Little Joe declared.

Hop Sing waved his hand in a dismissing gesture. "Boys disappear. Not tell me where you go. I suppose to keep eye on you while Mr. Cartwright away. Horses and wagon come home with no boys. Hop Sing worries."

Hoss's voice sounded like a five-year-old's as he begged, "Hop Sing, please don't tell Pa. We'll do anything you want. Give us extra chores or something. Just don't tell Pa. He don't need to know about this. Please!"

"Please?" echoed Little Joe, putting on the pleading expression it was hard for anyone at the Ponderosa to resist.

Hop Sing studied them with mild amusement as his resolve wavered. "You boys will chop kindling to last long, long time, will help with washing always without complaining, and will come to supper right when I call every day?" Hoss and Little Joe nodded fervently and Hop Sing's eyes twinkled. "I will not tell."

It was not long after that that Ben and Adam rode up. Little Joe ran to give his pa a hug after he'd dismounted. Adam sent Hoss a weird look, and it was only then that Hoss realized how disheveled and dirty he and Little Joe were. They'd covered a lot of miles in one day. It didn't take Pa long to notice.

"You two look like you've been wrestling wildcats."

Little Joe craned his neck to look up at his big brother. Even Hoss was impressed with himself when he managed to answer as if the question had been ridiculous. "We've been workin' real hard, Pa."

Ben nodded slightly, but there was doubt in his eyes. "I'm glad to hear that. Why don't you two go in and wash up while Adam and I tend to our horses?"

Glad for the escape, Hoss and Little Joe tromped into the house. Their eyes met Hop Sing's. The cook's usual smile had returned. He winked at them then went back to kneading bread dough.

Hoss and Little Joe washed up at the basin and managed to get most of their hair to lie flat. They sat on the settee to wait for Pa, both silently trying to think up answers to the questions he was sure to ask. When he came in, the two boys instantly noted that he didn't look happy. Then again, he didn't look angry either. Adam's expression was unreadable as usual. Hoss and Little Joe rose to their feet.

"Everything go all right while we were gone?" Pa asked, hanging his long jacket on its hook.

"Yep." The boys gazed at each other, their expressions threatening to give them away.

"No trouble?"

"Nope." Despite the answer, concern crossed Pa's face. They were replying in one-word statements and Ben wasn't sure he wanted to hear the story they weren't telling him. "Nothing unusual happened?"

"Un-use-al, Pa?" inquired Little Joe.

"Yes, unusual."

"Nope, nothing that I thought was un-use-al. Hoss?"

Hoss glanced at Little Joe and then he squinted as his eyes met his father's. "Ah, no sir."

Ben shot Adam a look. Adam crossed his arms, smiled slightly, and leaned back against the wall near the fireplace, enjoying this in spite of himself. "Then I have one more question for you two," continued Ben. "Why is the deputy sheriff of Nevada City outside asking me to turn over five thousand dollars and a horse?"

Hoss and Little Joe simultaneously dropped onto the settee. It was going to be a long night.

The End.