The Goldmaking Machine

By Kierin

Careful not to make a sound, Hoss Cartwright slowly pulled open the door to the bedroom he shared with his brothers and peeked out into the main part of the house. The wonderful aroma of warm sugar cookies cooling on the table hit him instantly. His stomach rumbled loudly and for a moment he was afraid Hop Sing would become aware of his presence and the plan would be ruined. Luckily, the cook was humming loudly to himself as he busily dropped bits of dough onto the metal sheet, preparing the next round of cookies for baking.

Hoss put one foot back, readying for the attack. This operation required quickness, planning and stealth. That was the only way the boys would be able to get their hands on the goods. The cookie guard ruled with an iron fist, and he enforced one core rule: Boys should not spoil their dinners.

Hoss moved slightly to his left and his partner in crime, his younger brother, eleven-year-old Little Joe, came into view. He was seated in a chair near their father’s room whittling a small piece of wood. Even though the boy wasn’t looking at him, Hoss could tell he was grinning in anticipation. Joe’s knife paused on the wood. He was ready.

Keeping his head down, Little Joe moved his eyes sideways and saw Hoss nod. He placed his knife and carving beside him on the chair and moved his attention to the cook. Hop Sing turned and set the baking sheet over the fire.

With a loud yell, Little Joe leaped out of his chair and loped across the room toward the back window. "Woah! Did you see that?"

As expected, Hop Sing immediately joined him at the window. "See what?"

In one big movement, Hoss sprung out of the bedroom, grabbed as many cookies as he could, and dropped them into his big pockets. "…did it look like?" Hop Sing was saying. Hoss lunged for the front door, swung it open, and ran. At the sound of the slam, Hop Sing whirled around. At the same time, Little Joe darted across the room, under the table, out the door and kept on running. Hop Sing chased him across the porch before he remembered he couldn’t just leave the cookies on the fire. He waved a hand in the air, yelled to the retreating boy in Chinese, and stomped back into the house.

Giggling wildly, Little Joe sprinted until he was sure his legs were about to collapse underneath him. He jumped across the creek and ran up the hill to where Hoss was waiting for him. Hoss cheered loudly when he saw Little Joe coming. "Woohoo! Way to go, little brother! We make a mighty fine team."

"How many did you get?"

"Eleven. I already ate three. You can have these five. They got a little busted up in my pocket, but that don’t matter. I venture they’re about the best cookies Hop Sing ever made. Yum!"

"You reckon Hop Sing’s gonna tell Pa what we done?" Little Joe asked, his mouth full of cookie.

"Nah, Hop Sing don’t usually tattle on us. He’s gonna be spittin’ nails for a spell, though. Reckon we better lay low for a couple hours."

Little Joe grabbed another cookie and plopped down next to his brother. As he took a bite, movement on a nearby ridge caught his eye. He squinted, unsure if he was seeing what he thought he was. Yes, someone was up there. He nudged his brother and pointed. "Hey, Hoss, look up on that ridge. A rider. You recognize him?"

"Hmm, don’t reckon I do."

"What’s he doing on our land?"

Hoss frowned, stood, and brushed cookie crumbs off his shirt. "I don’t know, but you can be plumb sure I’m gonna find out."

"I’m coming with you."

Hoss and Little Joe trotted up the ridge and waved to the rider, who dismounted and waited for them to arrive. As the boys approached, they saw he was a middle-aged man, well-groomed and well-dressed in fancy velvet clothes that were probably fashionable in the East but looked a little out of place in the rough and tumble wilds of Nevada Territory.

Still several paces away from the gentleman, Hoss stopped short and reached out an arm to block his brother. "Stay behind me, Little Joe, till we find out what he’s up to."

"Good day!" called the mystery man. "It’s a fine day, huh?" He extended his hand and Hoss moved forward to shake it.

"Reckon it is at that. Do you realize you’re on private property?"

"The Ponderosa?"

"Yep."

"Thought so. I’m on my way to Sacramento. A friend recommended this shortcut. Said the folks who owned the Ponderosa wouldn’t mind it if I passed through peaceful like."

Hoss took off his hat and scratched his head. "Yeah, I guess that’s true. You plannin’ on being peaceful like?"

"Oh, yes sir."

Hoss nodded and relaxed a little. The man put up one hand to secure his hat and leaned sideways so he could get a look at the partially hidden smaller boy. Little Joe pulled up a wayward suspender and grinned at him and the man pushed up the brim of his hat and grinned back. Then he stood straight again and asked, "So, uh, what are you boys doing way out here on the Ponderosa?"

From behind Hoss, Little Joe answered, "We stole some cookies. We’re sorta hidin’ out."

The man chuckled and nodded. "I see. I can imagine this would be a pretty good place to hide out. I haven’t laid eyes on another soul for going on three days. You know, I think both my horse and I could use a little rest. I’d like it if you boys stayed to chat for a bit."

Little Joe moved out from behind his brother. "Sure, mister."

The man secured his horse and the trio sat down in the grass. "You got quite a load there, mister," observed Hoss. "You come from far off?"

"Not too far."

"We get a lot of folks comin’ through here headin’ for California."

"Yes, yes. All looking for gold."

"You’re not interested in gold?"

"Oh, of course I am. I’m just not too keen on digging in the ground to get it. I’ve got a better way."

"Are you a storekeeper or blacksmith or something?"

"Nope."

"Investor?"

"Nope."

"How do you get gold then?"

"I make it."

Hoss scowled. "I ain’t followin’, mister."

"Plummer."

"What?"

"You can call me Mr. Plummer."

"You can call me Hoss and this is Joe."

"I believe I can show you boys something that will change every notion you ever had about getting gold." Mr. Plummer strode over to his horse and removed a large carpetbag. He set it in front of the boys and, with a dramatic flourish, whisked the bag off to reveal what looked like a small silver safe with a latch instead of a lock and with a smaller compartment on the top.

"What is it?" asked Hoss.

"It’s a goldmaking machine."

"A what?"

"A goldmaking machine."

Hoss snorted at the perceived joke, but seeing that the man’s expression was perfectly serious, he stated matter-of-factly, "Reckon there’s no such thing as a goldmaking machine."

"Ah, young fellow, you are mistaken, for right in front of you is one."

Little Joe couldn’t keep quiet any longer. "Golly! Will you show us how it works?"

Mr. Plummer scratched his ear as he considered this. "Well, Joe, I can’t just go around showing everybody how to make gold, can I?"

Little Joe’s face showed his disappointment. "Guess not," he said sadly.

"Though I’ve been thinkin’ on selling this here goldmaking machine, and when I sell it, I suppose I’ll have to sell the secret of how to make gold with it, too. You boys wouldn’t know anybody who’d be interested in purchasing it, do you?"

Little Joe sucked in a deep breath and looked excitedly at Hoss, his green eyes shimmering. Hoss stared back at him, fully aware of what his little brother was thinking. Hoss cleared his throat and frowned thoughtfully. "We might," he said as nonchalantly as he could, "uh, but first you’d have to prove to us that this here machine really can make gold."

"Ah, yes, you are a wise businessman," Mr. Plummer replied, and Hoss smiled proudly in spite of himself. He asked, "How much you asking for this here goldmaking machine?"

"I paid twenty dollars for it, and I’ll sell it to you at the same price." Hoss raised his eyebrows as he considered this. It was a high figure, but not nearly as high as he’d been expecting. The boys could come up with that much money without having to involve their father.

Mr. Plummer continued, "When you show me you have the money, I’ll show you how to make gold."

"That seems fair," Hoss replied. "But I ain’t said we’re gonna buy it yet. I’ve never heard of the likes of a goldmaking machine before. Even my brother Adam never talked about such a thing and he reads books and newspapers all the time so he knows about all the latest inventions."

"Well, son, if there were goldmaking machines all over the place and everybody knew about it then there would be plenty of gold to go around and it would lose it’s value, don’t you see? Heck, where would California be if that happened?"

"Reckon there’d be plenty of fighting about who owned the machines, too," offered Little Joe.

"Exactly," replied Mr. Plummer, winking at Joe. He turned back to Hoss. "I understand your reluctance. I’ve heard tell of some shady investment deals in my day, but I believe I can prove to you that this machine can make you rich. It certainly has been good to me."

Looking at the man’s fancy clothes and thoroughbred horse, it surely appeared he was speaking the truth.

Hoss had another thought. "Wait a minute. Why do you wanna part with this here machine iffen it makes you rich?"

Mr Plummer slapped Hoss lightly on the back. "Hoss, this goldmaking machine has been in my possession for going on a year now. I’ve made enough gold to last me the rest of my life. I figure it’s about time I let someone else profit from it. If you boys had to resort to stealing cookies, I reckon you could use it."

Feeling a little guilty, Little Joe and Hoss glanced at each other, unsure what to say. Without warning, Hoss pulled Joe away and bent down to whisper to him. "How much money you got?"

"I’ve got about six dollars in coins hidden in Mama’s trunk. How much you got?"

"I sold that calf last week so I’ve got almost twenty. If you put in your six, I’ll put in fourteen."

Little Joe quickly nodded his agreement.

Hoss stared at Mr. Plummer. "He looks like a good sort of feller, wouldn’t lie. Yet there’s still a little part of me that’s not …"

Little Joe’s excitement got the best of him. "Aw, c’mon, Hoss! We gotta buy it! It’s a goldmaking machine! Just think of all the things we could buy once we make up a batch of gold!"

Visions of herds of fine horses, beautifully etched saddles, stylish clothing, new gloves and boots, and admiring, smiling faces filled Hoss’s mind, much as they had Little Joe’s ever since the revelation of the goldmaking machine. Hoss smiled; he sure would like to have all those things. He told Little Joe where his money was hidden and sent the boy running home to get it and his six dollars in change.

Once Little Joe had returned with the money, Mr. Plummer retrieved a bag of supplies from his horse and motioned for Hoss and Joe to sit down in front of the machine. "Watch carefully," he instructed. He poured sand, dirt, water, flour, corn meal, sugar and a couple of substances foreign to Little Joe and Hoss into the top compartment and stirred them up with a stick.

"Now we must heat it and let the machine do the work," he said, closing the top compartment and placing the machine over the small fire he’d built.

"Boy, I sure never knew all that stuff was in gold," Little Joe declared.

Mr. Plummer just smiled at the boy. They waited in silence. Hoss and Little Joe refused to take their eyes off the machine for even an instant, hoping they’d be able to see the miraculous transformation occur. After no more than ten minutes, Mr. Plummer removed the silver box from the fire and brushed off the ashes. "Now we must let it cool and let the gold form." For another ten minutes, Hoss and Little Joe stared in awe at the goldmaking machine. Finally, with the same flourish he’d used to whisk off the carpetbag, Mr. Plummer released the latch and opened the little door to reveal a small, rectangular nugget of gold.

Little Joe and Hoss marveled at the gold piece. It was a much smaller nugget than they’d envisioned, but it was gold all the same. As they inspected it, they didn’t see Mr. Plummer remove the goldmaking machine’s top compartment and dump out its contents.

Hoss counted out twenty dollars in bills and change and handed the bundle to Mr. Plummer.

"Hoss, Joe, you’ve just bought yourselves a goldmaking machine. Use it wisely."

"Yes, sir," the boys answered in unison as Little Joe bent down to pick up the machine.

"Oh, and if you mix up a batch and you don’t get gold, something mighta malfunctioned, so just try again."

Hoss nodded. Little Joe nearly dropped the machine. "It’s heavy," he said, struggling to pick it up again. Hoss took it from him, tucking it under his right arm. Little Joe grabbed the bag of goldmaking supplies. They both waved to Mr. Plummer.

As they walked toward home, Hoss, whose gullibility had gotten him into trouble before, was plagued by some pesky second thoughts as he considered the prospect of presenting their purchase to their father and Adam.

"Hey, Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"Would it be okay if we didn’t tell anyone about the goldmaking machine until tomorrow?"

Always ready to please his brother, Little Joe agreed.

Hoss and Little Joe hid the goldmaking machine and supplies behind sacks of grain and a box of tools in the shed. They were hardly able to control their excitement and desire to try out their new device that night, but they managed to make it to bedtime without divulging the news of their purchase. Hop Sing had not told Ben of the earlier theft incident, but neither Hoss nor Joe was offered a cookie after supper was over. They hardly noticed, however, with their minds otherwise occupied. The next day, after their morning chores and a quick check to make sure their father, Hop Sing, and Adam were nowhere in sight, the two boys met at the shed to try out the machine.

"Pa’s gonna be real happy with us for buying this, ain’t he?"

"Little Joe, I’m not sure we should tell Pa about this just yet."

Not fully understanding the reasons behind his brother’s reluctance to tell their father, Little Joe exclaimed, "Oh, right! We should make up a big batch of gold first and surprise him!"

They heard hoofbeats approaching and Little Joe peeked out and saw that it was Adam returning from checking on the herd. "Can we tell Adam? Please let’s tell Adam!" Joe pleaded.

Hoss thought about it, winced slightly, and then sighed. "Okay, we’ll tell Adam. But I reckon he might not be too keen…"

Little Joe rushed toward Adam and practically pulled him off Beauty and into the shed. "You’ll never believe what we bought! You’re gonna be real surprised! Come see!"

Adam stared down at the weird shiny silver box. "What is it?"

Hoss answered, "It’s a goldmaking machine!"

"A what?"

"A goldmaking machine."

"A what!"

Hoss lost his confidence. "G-gol-gold…goldmaking ma-machine."

Adam closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. "Oh, please tell me this is a dream."

"Look, I know what you’re thinking, but…"

"It’s real, Adam!" interjected Little Joe, excitedly. "Mr. Plummer showed us how to use it and everything. It really works!"

"Who’s Mr. Plummer?"

"A man we met up on Sawtooth Ridge."

"A drifter?"

"He was dressed all fancy, Adam," answered Hoss. "You should have seen him. Seemed like a real nice fella. Sold us this goldmaking machine for only twenty dollars."

"Twenty doll…!" Finding himself yelling, Adam stopped short, rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head again. "Okay, just for argument’s sake, let’s say this really is a goldmaking machine. Why would this Mr. Plummer sell it to you?"

Little Joe could hardly contain his enthusiasm. "He said he’s got as much gold as he wants now. He ain’t got no use for it anymore. Just think of it, Adam! Pretty soon we’re gonna be rich! We can buy anything we want and the Ponderosa’ll be the biggest and best ranch in the whole territory!" He reached into his pocket and fished around for something. "Hey Hoss, you got that gold Mr. Plummer made?"

"No, you had it last. Little Joe, did you lose it?"

"I did not have it last! You did!"

"Woah, slow down!" declared Adam, placing his arms between his brothers. "Have either of you had the gold since you left this Mr. Plummer?" Both Hoss and Joe shook their heads. "Well then, if it really was gold, I imagine Mr. Plummer has it now."

"It really was gold, Adam!" replied Little Joe. "And this machine made it."

"Right before our very eyes," confirmed Hoss.

"All right," sighed Adam while settling back against the wall, "Tell me the whole story from the beginning."

Between Bill and Jake Meedle there wasn’t even half a brain, maybe not even a quarter. Hardly any occupation could be more wrong for such a duo than thieving and outlawry, but that was the career the Meedle brothers had embarked upon with fervor. Not surprisingly, they’d not had a great deal of success, and they’d fled from Kentucky nearly to the border of California to escape their various pursuers with nothing more to show for it than a few coins, miscellaneous trinkets, and a bundle of worthless bank statements. A day before, they’d spotted what appeared to be a wealthy Easterner traveling alone on horseback with a large supply of goods. They’d decided to track him at a safe distance, and, since their own guns had been stolen from them, to loot his camp while he slept, hoping they’d come up with something valuable.

When two boys had approached the wealthy Easterner, the Meedle brothers had quickly hid among the tall pine trees, close enough to hear most of the conversation but far enough away that they were in little danger of being noticed. Upon the revelation of a goldmaking machine, the brothers had looked at each other, one with wide eyes, the other with an evil grin. Seemingly oblivious of the fact that their previous prey now had twenty dollars in his possession, their desired bounty immediately changed. When the Easterner set off to the west, the Meedle brothers headed east toward the only town they knew of in these parts, Eagle Station, on their way to find those kids.

Unbothered by a failed first attempt at making gold, Hoss and Little Joe headed over to the Greene ranch to tell Tess about the goldmaking machine. Meanwhile, Adam chopped wood, and Ben decided to make a couple needed repairs to the stalls in the barn. He went to the shed to get a hammer and was surprised by what he discovered behind his toolbox.

"Hey, Adam! Come here, son." Expecting that his father had uncovered his brothers’ secret, Adam set the axe on the chopping block and came over. Ben pointed at the contraption. "What do you make of this?"

"Why, Pa, don’t you know a goldmaking machine when you see one?!"

"A what?"

"A goldmaking machine."

"A what!"

Adam laughed at the way his father’s reaction mirrored his own. He sat down on a sack of grain and told Ben the story he’d heard from Hoss and Little Joe. Ben smiled slightly at the eagerness and gullibility of his youngest sons, but frowned again when he heard that Hoss and Joe had paid twenty dollars for the machine. He rested his head in his hands. "Those boys…"

Once Adam had finished and Ben had mulled the story, Ben requested, "Son, please ride over to the Greenes and tell Hoss and Little Joe I’d like to see them."

Maurice Devereaux, usually called Frenchy because of his ancestry and strong accent, was not the sheriff of Eagle Station, but you couldn’t prove it by the way he seemed to get involved whenever any lawbreaking occurred in town. When Ben heard hoofbeats, he thought it was probably the boys returning, but he turned to see Frenchy jumping down off his horse. As Ben walked up to him, Frenchy poured out the reason for his unexpected visit.

"I’m letting all the council members know: We’ve had a robbery in town, some things belonging to the Orowitzes have turned up missing—some items from a trunk stored in the back of the trading post. Must’ve happened while Ruth and Eli were helping customers because they lock up that store at night and there was no sign of breaking and entering. They took a gun Eli had hidden in there and a broach of Ruth’s and a pocketwatch given to her by her father back in, um, wherever they came from. She’s pretty broken up about it, demanding that something be done to recover them. Nothing else from the store has been discovered missing yet, so we haven’t notified the marshal. I don’t think we’re dealing with real experienced burglars ‘cause they didn’t even tamper with the till, but if you see or hear anything suspicious, well, you know what to do, Ben."

Ben nodded solemnly and Frenchy remounted and turned his horse around before remembering he had more news for Ben Cartwright. He twisted in the saddle and looked back, "There’s one more thing. There were two strange men in town this morning asking if anybody knew where boys by the names of Hoss and Joe lived. Shelby says she overheard one of the drunks in the saloon telling them how to get to the Ponderosa. They weren’t carrying guns when I saw them and didn’t look the type to cause trouble, but I thought you’d want to know."

Ben nodded as his expression grew more somber. "Yes, Maurice, thank you. Do you think they could be the ones responsible for the theft?"

"The thought crossed my mind. But there’s no proof yet. Honestly, the thefts could have happened before they arrived since Ruth and Eli do not look in that trunk all that often."

Hoss and Little Joe stood before their father in front of the shed. They knew he’d found the goldmaking machine, and his expression looked menacingly stern as he paced in front of them. They didn’t know Adam had already explained the story behind it, and they weren’t quite sure how much trouble they were in. Finally, Ben said, "I would like an explanation of how you two came by this infernal contraption."

Little Joe related the same story Adam had told Ben earlier, casually leaving out the price he and Hoss had paid for the machine. He finished up by excitedly telling his father how Mr. Plummer had opened the door to reveal the small gold nugget.

"I see. And have you boys been successful in reproducing his results?"

"Not yet, Pa," Hoss answered. "We tried to make up a batch this morning but we ended up with glop instead of gold. But Mr. Plummer said that might happen sometimes."

"Sometimes? How about every time?! Hoss, Little Joe, there is no such thing as a goldmaking machine. You don’t make gold out of sand and flour and corn meal and whatever else you’ve got in this sack. In fact, you don’t make gold at all! That’s why it’s so valuable; it’s hard to get. This Mr. Plummer was lying to you."

"But, Pa, the goldmaking machine…" started Joe, and Ben squatted down in front of him and took ahold of his hands.

"Listen to what I’m saying, Little Joe. Mr. Plummer was a crook. He was simply out to get your money. This is not a goldmaking machine. There is no such thing as a goldmaking machine."

Comprehending the fact that they’d been swindled faster than his brother, Hoss breathed a long, deep sigh. "I sorta had a notion that maybe ‘tweren’t such a good purchase, Pa, but I guess I just lost my head when I starting thinking on all the great things we could buy with a wagonload of money. I did that when Iron Hand Malloy came to town too, didn’t I?"

Ben smiled and laid a comforting hand on Hoss’s shoulder. "Everybody wants to have enough money to buy the things they need and want, son. But it’s time you realize that good, honest work is the only way to earn a living. Money is not just going to fall out of the sky." Hoss briefly looked up before returning his gaze to his father and nodding reluctantly.

"But Pa," cried Little Joe, "what about the gold Mr. Plummer made?"

"Yeah, that was what convinced us," Hoss put in. "We was watching him the whole time."

"Did you look inside before he started?"

Hoss frowned as he considered this. "You know, I don’t think we did. That gold coulda been in there all along!" Hoss knocked himself lightly in the head, and Little Joe’s shoulders sagged as he finally realized this was the end to his most recent dreams of riches.

"Now," continued Ben, "do either of you know any reason why two strange men would be inquiring about you in town?"

Surprise at the question showed on the boys’ faces. Together they answered, "No, Pa. Someone was inquirin’ about us?"

"Maurice said so. You don’t know anything about it?"

"No, sir," both boys replied.

"All right. But I want both of you to stay close to the house until I find out who it was and what they want."

"I can’t believe Mr. Plummer lied to us," moaned Joe as they walked toward the house. "He seemed so nice and honest."

"Most swindlers do," replied Ben. "Remember Mr. Washington? You boys aren’t the first to fall for a get-rich-quick scheme. Nor the last, I reckon."

"Did you ever fall for one, Pa?"

A faraway look passed over Ben’s eyes as the corners of his mouth turned up. Coming back to the present, he tousled Joe’s hair. "That’s a story for another day, son."

At supper that night, Ben told the boys and Hop Sing about the trading post thefts, and everyone promised they’d do whatever they could to help find the missing items. After supper, Adam went out to the barn to bed down the horses. Hoss and Little Joe got out the checkerboard, and Ben picked up Adam’s latest issue of the Alta California and sat down by the fire. He jumped up again when he heard Adam call loudly from outside, "Pa, could you come out here?" There was a strangeness in Adam’s voice that made Hoss and Little Joe glance at each other and follow their father. Hop Sing tagged along behind them.

Two unfamiliar men were standing in front of the porch. One had a gun pressed against Adam’s back. Both wore gray kerchiefs over their mouth, and their well-worn hats were pulled down low. Even so, Ben could see that they weren’t much older than Adam, and that their eyes did not contain the hardness and violence he’d seen in other criminals.

He also quickly noticed that the pistol was familiar. He’d seen it somewhere before¾ it was Eli’s gun from the trunk! Ben almost laughed when he remembered Eli telling him it was an antique and didn’t actually work anymore. The chain across the vest of one of the outlaws gave evidence that they also had Ruth’s father’s watch and likely her broach as well. Hoss nudged his father, and he and Ben exchanged a knowing look. Ben cleared his throat. "What do you want?"

The outlaw without the gun demanded, "We come for the machine that makes gold. Hand it over and no one gets hurt."

Suddenly flabbergasted, Ben raised his eyebrows and tried to keep the smile off his face. "You mean…you say you’ve come for that infernal contrap, ah, the goldmaking machine?"

"I’m running out of patience, mister. Hand it over"

Ben put up his hands. "All right, all right, we sure don’t want to upset you when you’ve got a gun to my eldest son’s back. Little Joe, please give this gentleman what he’s asked for."

"But Pa…"

"Now Joseph!"

Little Joe dragged the goldmaking machine from the shed and turned it over to the unarmed outlaw.

"Sure do hate to give that up," he said, catching on and trying to remain serious. "You’re gonna want this bag of supplies, too. In here’s the goldmaking ingredients."

The armed outlaw whispered to his cohort, who asked, "You made any gold with this here machine yet?"

"Naw," answered Hoss, "we ain’t had much luck yet. Reckon we don’t know the right recipe."

It was obvious that the outlaws were thrown off by the remark. "W-well, what…who does know?" one stuttered.

"There’s a gentleman named Mr. Plummer, at least that’s what he said his name was, who’s headed to Sacramento, at least that’s where he told us he was headed. He knows all about this machine. Sold it to me and Little Joe. Reckon he can tell ya how to use it if anyone can."

"Yeah," agreed Little Joe. "Just tell him Hoss and Joe sent ya."

So Mr. Plummer was the name of the wealthy Easterner, thought Bill Meedle. They’d tracked him before, wouldn’t be tough to do it again. "He gonna ask us a lot of questions like how we came to have possession of this here goldmaking machine?"
Hoss shook his head. "Nah, you just tell him we gave it to ya. Reckon he won’t ask questions."

The armed outlaw shoved Adam toward Ben and waved the gun at the four Cartwrights and Hop Sing as he and his partner backed into the darkness. As an afterthought, one outlaw shouted, "What road do you take to Sacramento?"

The other outlaw abruptly hissed something at him.

"Salt Lake! I meant Salt Lake! We’re headed to Salt Lake!" More hissing. "Oh yeah…and don’t come after us or we’ll shoot you!"

Overjoyed at their success, the Meedle brothers walked all night. They used the stars to ensure they were heading west. That was the extent of their plan.

Just after dawn, Jake shoved the goldmaking machine toward his brother. "You carry it."

"No way, I carried it all night. It’s your turn."

Jake dropped the heavy silver box on the ground and slumped down beside it on the dirt. "I ain’t going any farther till we rest, then."

"C’mon you lazy good-for-nothing. They’re gonna come after us, you know."

"Aw, relax. They ain’t gonna catch us. They think we’re headed to Salt Lake, remember?"

Bill just grunted in exasperation.

Jake continued, "Why don’t we steal a horse? It’s a long way to Sacramento."

"Are you plain loco? Do you know what they do to horse thieves in these parts?"

Jake gulped. He ran a hand along the top compartment of the goldmaking machine. "When are we gonna make some gold? I’m already itchin’ to spend my portion."

"We don’t know how, you fool."

"Let’s just try it once anyway. You put some stuff in and then you heat it and…"

"No, you idiot! That would be a waste of supplies! We’re gonna find that Easterner feller and force him to make us gold. We’ll sell the watch and broach you lifted and feast right fine once we get to California."

"All right. All right," sighed Jake as he stood up and fell into pace with his brother. He rummaged through the bag of goldmaking supplies. "Boy, I shore never knew all this stuff was in gold. You hungry?"

At about the same time, Ben and the boys arrived in Eagle Station with a story to tell.

"This happened last night and you waited until this morning to inform us?!" Frenchy half shouted as he and Ben stood on the front porch of the Orowitzs’ trading post.

Ben looked up into the summer sun. "Well, Maurice, the way I see it they aren’t going to be traveling real fast with that contraption weighing them down. They haven’t got horses that I know of and this heat can get right near unbearable during the day. Besides, we’re pretty sure they’re headed to Sacramento."

"How do you know that?"

Ben smiled thoughtfully and shrugged, "Just have a feeling."

A three-man posse made up of Ben, Frenchy, and Eli Orowitz rode west from town, and soon they were in the hills around Lake Tahoe. As Frenchy surveyed the valley from the top of a hill, he spotted several flashes of light in the distance, as if someone was using a mirror to reflect the sun. He called to Ben and Eli, "Did you see that glint? Is somebody trying to signal us?"

Ben had noticed. "Let’s check it out," he said. "Be careful. It could be Indians."

As the men quietly approached the source of the reflecting light, they heard voices—two men arguing, each man trying to make the other carry something. Ben jumped off his horse and grabbed his rifle. Frenchy and Eli followed. Not long after, Bill and Jake Meedle were stripped of their plunder, tied, and ready to be escorted to jail.

Hoss, Adam, and Little Joe were helping Ruth Orowitz make wanted posters at the trading post when the posse returned, having deposited the Meedle brothers at the jail in Hangtown so the law could decide what to do with them. Eli handed Ruth her broach and the watch, and, in her excitement, she rushed to hug and kiss the three men, catching them off guard and leaving each with a slightly self-conscious expression on his face. Ben explained to his sons how their goldmaking machine had assisted in capturing the aspirant outlaws, both in slowing their progress and reflecting the sun.

"So they should get the money," Ruth observed.

"What money?" asked a confused Hoss, and Ruth handed him a copy of the wanted poster and pointed to a line at the bottom.

"Perhaps you did not see this part."

Hoss read aloud, "Reward offered by owner." Surprised and unsure what to say next, he looked at his father.

Ben put his arms around his two youngest sons. "It was Hoss and Joseph’s magic contraption that helped us catch those two outlaws."

Frenchy and Eli mumbled their assent.

"How much is the reward?" asked Little Joe eagerly.

The boys didn’t see Mrs. Orowitz wink at Ben before she answered, "Twenty dollars."

Hoss and Joe stared at each other, unbelieving their good fortune. Mrs. Orowitz opened the till.

"Um, Mrs. Orowitz," ventured Hoss, "could we have that money as fourteen and six dollars?"

"If that’s what you want," she answered. "Here’s fourteen and here’s six."

Hoss accepted the bills. He handed the six dollars to Little Joe. Ben couldn’t resist saying, "Perhaps you should consult with me before you spend that."

Hoss nodded as he folded the money and shoved it deep into his pocket. "Don’t worry, Pa. I ain’t plannin’ on spendin’ this for a long time."

Ben continued, "We’ll send out a notice with Mr. Plummer’s description. From what you’ve told me, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are a few other folks hoping to catch up with him. If he does go to Sacramento, they’ll catch him there."

Little Joe asked, "Pa, do you think there will ever be a silvermaking machine?"

"I doubt it, son. Unless you invent one."

Adam quickly cleared his throat in disapproval, but the words were already out. Ben gave his eldest son a remorseful look at the same time as Little Joe’s eyes met Hoss’s and sparks of a new plan passed between them.

The End.