Date: Thu, 31 Mar 2005 07:21:31 -0500
From: carl5de@netscape.net
Subject: HIGH PLAINS DOCTOR - 5

HIGH PLAINS DOCTOR - 5

Copyright 2005 by Carl Mason and Ed Collins

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the authors.  However based on real events and
places, "High Plains Doctor" is strictly fictional.  Any resemblance to
actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.  As in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold
gradually.  If you would like to read other Mason-Collins stories, you
might turn to "Out of the Rubble," "Castle Margarethen," and "The Priest
and the Pauper" which are archived in Nifty's "Historical" section.
Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the authors
at carl5de@netscape.net

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both
adults and teenagers.  As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the
personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults.  If you are not of
legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you
trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral
dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally, remember that maturity
generally demands that anything other than safe sex is sheer insanity!


CHAPTER 5

(Revisiting Chapter 4)

At the ceremony that night around a great fire, Ben, Jon, and Kelly were
inducted into the tribe.  Along with their assistants, each was given an
eagle feather to wear in his hair.  They were also given their tribal names
- for Ben, "Medicine Friend"; for Jon, "Man-with-Sand-in-Hair"; and for
Kelly, "Red Eagle."  At the close of the ceremony, Ben's teenaged
assistant, Sharp Knife, came forward.  Embarrassed, he presented Ben with
an object wrapped in rich furs, saying (as translated by Running Deer) that
this prized possession of the People was their gift to Medicine Friend.

After the wonderful band of true human beings had danced for long hours in
the flaring light and shadows of the fire, the men and boys teaching Jon
and Kelly the steps, their departure the next morning was anticlimactic.
In truth, they were still walking on air, and the long trip back to Shiloh
seemed to pass as if it were but across Main Street.

(Continuing Our Story - Independence Day 1873)

Ben sat comfortably on a bench in the new City Park off Main Street.
Shiloh was slowly changing.  Flowers bloomed in the beds that lined
walkways on which young couples strolled arm in arm, the women in their
holiday finery, some of their escorts in blue, some in civilian dress.
Children cavorted on the grass.  The walkways converged on an ornate
bandstand in the very center of the park where the Post and town bands were
taking turns at entertaining the growing holiday crowd.  "Not all parts of
civilization are bad," he thought.  "If only ALL civilizations could be
enjoyed!"

The good doctor saw Jon and Barry with Kelly and Kyle working their way
through the crowd towards him.  "Hey, guys," he greeted them.  "Happy
Fourth of July!  You people are sweaty and dirty enough.  Been making love
to your horses?" "Just about," Barry laughed.  "Kyle and I decided that Jon
and Kell needed some practice on the Post's jumping and obstacle course up
in the hills.  They're getting pretty good!"  "Seems to me," Ben allowed,
"that they've got some great teachers!"

"Hey, Doc," the golden-haired Kyle puffed, "it's just about time for me and
Barry to clean up and get into our dress duds.  Any chance of our using
that super bathroom of yours?  The tubs out back of the Crystal Palace just
don't seem that great any more!"  "Be my guest," Ben chortled.  "Jon and
Kelly know where everything is.  Just go easy on the fixtures, ok?  I don't
want that bathtub to come crashing down through the floor into our
workroom!"  With a grunt - and a grin - Jon led the guys back towards the
house.  Watching the muscular young foursome heading off, Ben mumbled, "Oh,
my, I'd enjoy the scenery, but I guess there's a time and a place for
everything.  Besides, this bench is comfortable, and the sun feels great.
I guess they can't get into too much trouble."

Four handsome, beautifully muscled teens, naked as the day they were born,
laughing and chattering away, watched the giant porcelain bathtub gradually
fill.  "Damn!" muttered Kyle.  "We don't have time to wait all day.  Do you
think we could all fit into this monster at the same time?"  "Sure,"
boasted Jon.  "We could fit the whole fuckin' Post detachment into this
tub."  "Easy does it, Jon," softly counseled Kelly.  "Well, let's try it
anyway," Jon muttered stubbornly.  Turning the water off, he said, "Ok,
Kyle, in with you!"  "Oh, shit, that feels good," the golden- haired one
sighed as he sank into the hot water.  "Barry, you're up," Jon commanded.
"Ah-h..."  moaned the dark-haired Pennsylvanian as he slid in.  "Ok, Kell,"
Jon chortled, "there's plenty of room!"  Slowly and very carefully, Kelly
climbed in.  "Move your big ass, Kyle," he growled as he fitted himself
into the pack.  The moment of truth had come.  Exuberantly, completely
confident of his victory, Jon threw himself into the mass of naked humanity
and rather squirmed his way down into the water.  "Not quite enough water,"
he muttered, turning on a spigot.  "SHIT, Jon, that's HOT!" Barry yelled.
"Turn the fucker off!"  "Sorry, man," Jon mumbled, twisting the other
spigot and adjusting the temperature of the flow.  "See, that's all there
is to it in a modern bathroom!"  "The tub's getting awfully full, Jon,"
Kelly exclaimed.  "Yeah, that's enough," Jon agreed...as much to shut
"little brother" up as anything else.  Turning both spigots to full off, he
grabbed a bar of soap and proceeded to lather Barry's back.  "Oh, yeah,"
his riding instructor moaned, "that feels great."  Not to be outdone, Kelly
grabbed a second bar and went to work on Kyle's chest and, then, his legs.
When the boy's face started to get a little redder than justified by the
temperature of the water alone, Kelly told him to turn over and he'd get
the other side.

As Kyle struggled to turn over, everyone was forced to move.  Suddenly, the
entire tub lurched and a sound of squealing timbers filled the air.  The
great brass pipes began to pound and vibrate.  For years afterward, Ben
retold the story as if he'd been there.  The boys did not "climb" out of
the tub.  Rather, they FLEW out of the tub...as if propelled by springs
underneath their butts.  According to Ben, the room was filled with flying
kids who, when they landed, crouched wide-eyed on all fours, fearing that
at any second they would find themselves amidst splintered timbers and
other debris on the floor below.  Thankfully, the carpenters who had
reinforced the floor had done their work well, and it didn't happen.
Quickly, the boys dried off and dressed in Jon and Kelly's bedroom, the
Pony Soldiers left for the afternoon ceremony, and the brothers stayed
behind to clean up one mess of water on the bathroom floor.  Jon didn't
dare look at his glowering younger brother.

Sitting between two curiously subdued teenagers, Ben watched with pleasure
as Captain Samuel Culpepper, marching at the head of his smartly turned out
troopers, entered the Park.  The Post's cannons booming in the background,
the band immediately struck up a medley of Civil War tunes, including "The
Battle Cry of Freedom," "The Bonnie Blue Flag," and other songs of both the
North and South.  "Thank God the War's over," Ben thought as he leapt to
his feet and joined in the wild cheers.  As the Pony Soldiers marched past,
Barry and Kyle's soldierly faces relaxed into quick grins that brought even
more frenzied cheers from both Jon and Kelly.  After a prayer by the
Rev. Mr. Eziekiel Long and a rendition of "America" by the head soloist at
the Community Church, the program culminated in a stirring patriotic
oration by the mayor, Harry Parsons.  Ben would have counted Shiloh's first
annual celebration of Independence Day a great success had he not seen a
clearly agitated dispatch rider race up to the stand and thrust a message
directly into the hand of his Captain.  When Sam's Adjutant, announced that
all soldiers were to report immediately to the Post, a cold hand seemed to
grip his heart.

"Ok, boys, what have you done this time?" Ben growled when he had taken all
he could take of the nervous silence at the supper table.  To his credit,
Jon reported the happenings of earlier that afternoon, neither leaving
anything out nor attempting to escape his responsibility.  "I guess I'm
just the stupidest guy in Shiloh," he finished.  "I couldn't be more sorry.
I swear it won't happen again, Dad, but I'll understand that I have it
coming if you want to take a belt to me."  Ben sat quietly for a moment.
Finally, he said, "Inexperienced, yes - and, maybe, just a little goofy.
Stupid?  No.  That you're not.  I'll have the tub and the floor checked
tomorrow.  Better not use the bathroom before we know everything's safe.
There's a chamber pot under the sink in the back hall.  As to the belt
suggestion, I don't beat those I love - and I'm beginning to understand the
idea that violence only begets more violence.  Understood?"  "Yes, Dad,"
both boys said as they got up from the chairs, came over, and threw their
arms around the man they adored.

After the dishes had been cleaned up, Jon took off to return something to
someone.  Ben was working downstairs when there was a knock on the outside
door to the apartment.  Kelly opened the door to find a highly agitated
Kyle.  "Come on in, Big Ass," he said with a grin.  "What's up?"  "Can we
talk," the boy responded, his eyes beginning to tear up.  "Sure," Kelly
said, immediately becoming serious.  "Let's go down to my room."

Kyle told his friend that the troopers were going out against hostiles at
daybreak.  They would join troopers coming up from Fort Laramie.  It seemed
that Indians had stolen two cows from a wagon train and the cavalry had
received orders to punish them.  Several of the troopers are really upset,
for they heard that the small tribe just suffered a deadly sickness and
their food was almost gone.  Kelly suddenly felt a sharp pain in his
stomach.  He asked a few questions, but Kyle knew nothing more.

"That's not all, Kell," Kyle continued, beginning to sob.  "I've got a real
bad feeling about this one.  I know, as sure as I'm sitting on this bed,
that I'm not coming back."  "Oh, come on, Kyle," Kelly exclaimed,
immediately moving over to the bed and sitting beside the sobbing boy.
"Your Captain is a great guy.  My dad says he really knows what he's doing.
You've been on other...  actions.  You've always come back to give me a bad
time about my riding, haven't you?"  "Yeah, but not this time, Kell...not
this time.  There's more...if you'll put up with me and let me get it out."
Throwing his arm around the lad's shoulders, Kelly said simply, "You're my
buddy, Kyle."  (Kyle looked up and smiled through his tears.)  "I'm here
for you.  Just talk to me.  Anything you say is ok."  The seventeen year
old choked out, "You're my buddy, too, Kell.  Kell, you won't hate me if I
tell you something bad?"  "Nope," his friend responded.  "Kell, I like
girls...but I like you, too...that way," he finished in a flood of
embarrassment.  "I've dreamt about you..." he added in a hoarse voice, not
able to complete the thought verbally.  "But I've never done ANYTHING!" he
wailed..."nothing at all...with anyone!  I'll be switched if I let them put
me under the ground not knowing what it feels like!  Kell, I know you're a
man, but could you, maybe, hold me and tell me...you know...that you love
me?  You don't have to..." his voice trailed off into confusion.

"But what if I DO love you?" Kelly breathed as he leaned over and kissed
his friend on the cheek.  Kyle turned to him, his eyes wide with
wonder...and with hope.  Very tentatively, he kissed Kelly on the mouth.
Kelly grabbed a handful of his golden hair and showed him how exciting a
kiss could be.  "Do you want this to go further as much as I do?" he
growled.  "Yes, Kell, yes," Kyle breathed.  Kelly got up, moved to the
door, and turned the key.  "Brothers and dads," he snickered.  Returning,
he slowly unbuttoned Kyle's shirt and removed it.  Holding his hair out of
the way, he slowly kissed along the top of his heavy shoulders.  Then,
pushing the boy back on the bed, he kissed, licked, and nibbled his way
down the strong torso.  "More?"  "More!" the Golden-One half-laughed,
half-sobbed.  As if he were peeling a banana, Kelly seductively removed the
rest of the Pony Soldier's clothing.  Before continuing, he removed his own
and lay down beside his friend.  "May I just hold you in my arms for a
minute, Kyle-boy?"  he murmured.  Kyle's radiant smile was answer enough,
and he gathered him into his arms.  After a few minutes, Kelly softly
commanded, "Now roll over on top of me...chest to chest.  Good," he
continued, as he placed his hands on Kyle's solid cavalry butt.  "Now
slowly rub your body against mine. Let your dick get into the action."  "Oh
God," Kyle moaned as he began to feel the trembling within.  Gradually,
Kelly joined in the accelerating motion.  Fast losing control, Kyle threw
himself against his friend's body, rubbing, pushing his cock into Kelly's
genitals, taking long shuddering breaths through his open mouth in an
effort to replenish his oxygen.  Covered in precum, swollen, reddened, and
sensitive beyond belief, their cocks not only slid against each other as if
oiled, but sent wave after wave of passion through their trembling bodies.
Finally, feeling their bodies stiffen and begin to arch, Kelly's fingers
dug deeply into Kyle's buttocks as their cocks ejected torrents of cum.

Lying quietly as their bodies quieted, Kelly looked over at his friend and
grinned.  "Now you know the feeling.  Like it, Pony Soldier?"  Kyle gulped,
but could say nothing more than "Oh God..."  "Next time we meet, you'll get
the next lesson...saddling and bridling, maybe a little trotting," Kelly
giggled.  "You may have to wait a while, Kell," the lad lying beside him
breathed, "but when we do, I'll take you up on that."  Leaning over, he ran
his fingers through his friend's auburn hair and kissed him softly...and
with great love.

After Kyle had left, Kelly cleaned up and went into the parlor where his
father was sitting, enjoying a drink, and reading.  Carefully restricting
his comments to that which Kyle had told him about the impending action,
Kelly couldn't believe the pain he saw in his father's eyes.  "There's
nothing we can do, son; there's nothing we can do to stop this insanity.
To attempt to do so would be to be swept away like a toy boat under a
roaring ocean wave.  I will not interfere, for I cannot.  Neither must you
- and that's an order!

(People of the Bluff)

Kelly rose when it was still pitch black, saddled his horse, and rode out
where he could observe the departing cavalry.  He did not disobey his
father lightly, but as Dad had said on many occasions, "In the final
analysis, all men have free will and, hence, are responsible for their
choices."  The line of the Pony Soldiers and their wagons was long; there
could only be a skeleton garrison left at the Post.  For two days he
followed them, but stayed hours behind.  After all, he had the advantage of
knowing where they were headed.

Late on the second day, they joined the detachment from Fort Laramie well
south of the little valley.  Curiously, the combined force neither posted
scouts nor guards in the immediate area of the encampment.  Thus, he was
able to creep up, observe, and even hear bits of staff discussions without
being discovered.  The problem seemed to be the Colonel of the Militia from
Fort Laramie who immediately took command when the two detachments joined
forces.  Kelly instinctively found him to be loud, opinionated and - if the
boy had learned anything from observing how Captain Culpepper conducted his
business - inept.  The Shiloh commandant, for instance, appeared to be
advising him to enter the valley immediately, talk with the Indian leaders,
and negotiate for the two tribesmen who had stolen the cattle.  He pointed
out that intelligence suggested the tribe had been decimated by an epidemic
and that its food supplies were in dire straits. Colonel Katz, by contrast,
struck a "heroic" pose, loudly proclaiming that he did not negotiate with
"hostiles." He further advised the "Captain" that he had been ordered to
"punish" the hostiles and that no former rebel officer was going to
interfere with those orders.  Rather, they would camp overnight, enter the
valley in force the next morning, and do whatever was necessary to
"extract" the criminals.  If the Indians resisted, they would learn that
much more quickly that it was futile to resist the power of the United
States.  Henceforth, he stated pompously, Captain Culpepper would do best
to keep his "intelligence" and his "advice" to himself and follow orders.

Sick at heart, Kelly worked his way out of the encampment and rode
cautiously up the reverse side of the bluff that overlooked the valley.
Tethering his horse in a protected area, he crept up towards the face of
the bluff where he could safely observe the impending action.  The weary
boy slept soundly, not waking until he heard bugles and the sounds of
approaching troops and horse-drawn cannon from below.  Ten Wolves and Snow
Bird appeared in the middle of the camp.  A young lad...Running Deer...was
with them.  When a message was received from the cavalry, he seemingly
translated.  Whatever the message, it appeared that it was deeply
insulting, for Ten Wolves threw it down on the ground.  Within minutes,
shells started landing in the Indian camp.  A large body of dismounted
soldiers, probably those from Laramie, began to advance directly up the
valley while a smaller force worked towards the camp through hilly terrain
on the right.  Before smoke markedly obscured his view, Kelly got a quick
glimpse of Kyle's golden-yellow hair as he advanced with the boys from
Shiloh.  After about a half hour, the shelling ceased and the prevailing
winds caused the smoke quickly to dissipate.  The scene was amazing!
Clearly, the small band of Indians had been completely prepared for the
assault.  Small guerilla groups had cut the first wave of Laramie troops to
pieces.  Blue-clad bodies littered thirty yards of the valley floor.  On
the right, the Shiloh assault had been effectively stopped.  In fact,
Culpepper's contingent appeared to be dug in and fighting for their lives.
To the rear of the carnage, Colonel Katz appeared to be in a rage,
literally jumping up and down and waving his hat towards the camp. Again,
the shelling resumed and Kelly's view of the battlefield was shrouded.
When it halted for a second time, the Laramie soldiers had broken into the
camp and were shooting and stabbing anything that moved.  The Shiloh boys
had broken through the Indian defenses on the right and were advancing at
full tilt towards the camp.  Captain Culpepper had remounted, and he and
his staff were galloping towards the center.

Disregarding the fact that isolated shooting was still going on, Kelly
secured his horse and led him down the bluff towards the camp.  As he came
out on the valley floor, he ran directly into Captain Culpepper and his
staff who had paused near the body of Colonel Katz.  Culpepper was giving a
flurry of orders to his remaining officers and noncoms: "Bugler, sound
recall!"  "Stop the massacre - shoot any soldier who refuses to obey!"
"Cease pursuing the hostiles!"  "Medics, on penalty of arrest, will treat
all wounded, regardless of their race!"  Suddenly seeing Kelly, the Captain
trotted his horse over and looked down at the boy (who was still leading
his horse).  His expression was severe.  "Kelly, you don't belong here.
You will leave immediately or you will go back to Shiloh in irons.  Is that
clear?"  When Kelly indicated that he would obey, the Captain continued.
"I can't spare anyone to go with you.  Stay away from the valley floor.  Go
back through the hilly area that we came through.  It's relatively clear."
Ordering a Sergeant to give him a sack of biscuits and some jerky, he said,
"Now get your butt out of here!"  "You and your father will hear from me
later!"

Dejected, for he was but 14 years old and really wanted to see more of what
was going on, the young lad slowly worked he way up into the hills before
moving down the edge of the valley.  Rounding a hummock, he suddenly came
on a sight that he had dreaded seeing since he left his warm bed in Shiloh.
Kyle lay on his back, his eyes open and sightless, a feathered lance thrust
into the center of his chest.  (Kelly would never again wear the eagle
feather that he had so proudly received from the tribe.)  He dismounted,
closed his buddy's eyelids, and kissed him on the forehead before
remounting.  Continuing his journey, he passed several more bodies, mostly
Indian...men, women, and children of both sexes.  They had clearly fought
to the death.  Just as he was about to clear the raised area, he heard soft
sobbing over on his left.  Drawing the pistol that he had taken from his
father's chest in the surgery, he rode slowly over towards the thicket.  As
he approached, Running Deer leapt up and took two steps towards him with a
drawn knife.  Recognizing Kelly, he tossed the knife into the bushes, ran
forward, and threw himself on the legs of his friend.  "Don't kill me,
Kelly.  Please don't kill me," the youngster begged, "I am not your enemy."
"No, you are not my enemy," Kelly muttered, as he reached down and helped
Running Deer to mount behind him.  With tears in their hearts, the boys
turned their faces towards Shiloh.

It was night when the boys arrived back in town.  As he attempted to hide
Running Deer in his bedroom, Ben came out of his room.  When he saw them,
he simply opened his arms and hugged them both tightly.  "Clean up," he
said.  "The bathroom's ok.  Then come into the parlor."  When the
youngsters reappeared, food was on the table.  It wasn't easy for them to
eat, for Ben wasn't about to let them escape from his arms as they sat
huddled together.  Kelly was getting big...and heavy; Running Deer had legs
like a...deer!  Between bites, Kelly managed to fill his father in on the
incredible stupidity of Colonel Katz, his lack of control over his
troopers, and the massacre that followed.  "If they'd only followed Captain
Culpepper," he exclaimed, "it would never have happened."  "That's right,"
Running Deer agreed.  Ten Wolves and Snow Bird didn't want to give up the
two braves who had stolen the cattle because their cooking pots were empty.
Their squaws and their children were starving.  When things like that
happen, we believe that food belongs to those who need it.  They had
decided, however, to surrender them as a last resort.  When our scouts
learned that the fat officer only wanted to kill us, however, we had all
night to prepare to sell our lives at a very high price.  No one was
willing to run any further.  The valley was our home."

"Captain Culpepper will send the Laramie wounded and dead back to their
fort," Kelly continued.  "He didn't waste our boys' lives like Katz did
his, but some died and there are many wounded.  Kyle's dead," he sobbed,
the tears running down his face.  Running Deer did not cry, but he added
bitterly, "My people lie on the ground for the wolves and other animals to
eat.  Only a few escaped."  Ben hugged both of them until they
groaned. "When do you think Sam will be back at the Post?" he inquired.
"Maybe tonight," Kelly gasped, bringing himself back under control.  He
couldn't let the Indian boy continue to see him weep.  "When the sun comes
up, this town's going to be in chaos," Ben observed darkly.  "It's not
going to be safe for you, Running Deer.  Don't worry.  We'll hide you until
we can figure out what to do, but we're going to need your cooperation.
Ok?"  "Yes, sir," the youngster said, remembering the English words.
Kissing them both, he told Kelly to take the boy to his bedroom and get
some sleep.

After the boys had gone to bed, Ben sat hunched up in his chair for the
rest of the night, thinking of the brave lads at the Post - especially the
golden-haired Kyle - and of the many friends he had made among the People
of the Bluff.  Fingering their priceless gift - a magnificent 16th century
Spanish dagger in an ornate leather case decorated with gold - he wept for
their terrible loss, America's terrible loss, his terrible loss.  In the
morning, a subdued Jon helped him in the surgery while Kelly and Running
Deer slept and they awaited word that the troopers had returned.  By the
time that the word arrived, the boys were up and around.  Ben took his
medical supplies and immediately left with Jon for the Post.

Sam Culpepper was in a mood, a mood that swung precipitously between fury,
disgust, and concern for his men.  When Ben informed him of what Running
Deer had said about the Indians' plans - ostensibly earlier in the valley -
his only comment was a bitter, "Why doesn't that surprise me?"  "I'm sorry
about Kelly's being there," Ben added.  "He was under strict orders not to
get involved."  "I know that, Ben," he sighed, "but teenagers and the early
20s bunch can be a handful.  I've got a few in my command, and right now
they're acting meaner than a bunch of pole cats."  At that moment, a
dispatch rider rode up and gave a message to the Captain.  "Ha!  My scouts
have located the remnants of the Indians.  Bear-Who-Walks- Upright is still
alive, but his people are insisting on heading north."  (AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Three years later, in July of 1876, they would stand with 7000 Sioux,
Cheyenne, and Arapaho to fight the Pony Soldiers again...on the Little Big
Horn in the Montana Territory.)  "As soon as I've unloaded my wagons and
hitched up fresh horses, I'm having two of my best drivers take supplies to
them.  At least we can do that."  Ben spoke with him privately for a few
minutes before he sent Jon back to town.  When Jon told their Indian friend
that Bear-Who-Walks- Upright was still alive and that supply wagons would
soon be on their way to him, Running Deer immediately insisted on rejoining
his GRANDFATHER, the father of Snow Bird.  A quiet little cowpoke
accompanied Jon back to the Post and entered Captain Culpepper's quarters
to a loving welcome by his good wife.  Before he left, Ben hugged him again
and wished him well.

(Aftermath)

Ben, his two sons, and the Post medics worked long hours in the infirmary.
Six had died in the battle, but all but one of the wounded pulled through.
"At least that meant fewer letters that Sam had to write home to grieving
mothers or wives," Ben thought.  He wondered how many letters had to be
posted from Laramie.  Jon and Kelly were disturbed in that they saw little
of Barry who, they were told, was avoiding everyone.  When he wasn't at the
funeral for the Post's casualties, including his sidekick Kyle, Ben spoke
to Sam.  "Ben, I had no choice," Sam spoke rather sharply.  "He requested a
short leave by the book three days ago.  Teenager or not, he's a man in
this Army, and I granted it.  He wasn't required to share his plans with
me, and I didn't ask, anymore than I would any other Pony Soldier."

The next night, in a driving rainstorm, Barry showed up at the upstairs
apartment door.  Unshaven, absolutely soused, he seemed to be teetering on
the edge of a nervous breakdown.  It surely didn't appear that he had been
out of his clothes since he had left the Post, for he smelled like a skunk
- or, maybe, that horse liniment.  "He's our friend, Dad," Jon stated and,
with Kelly, dragged him in the door and towards the bathroom.  After
soaking for a while, they found some of Ben's old clothes that fit him
pretty well.  His uniform went down to the Chinese laundry for a major
overhaul.  On the way back, the boys stopped by the Emporium and bought a
mattress pad that they laid on their bedroom floor between theirs.  When he
threw off the effects of the alcohol, the hunky eighteen year-old couldn't
stop trembling or crying.  Jon and Kelly lay on either side of him, holding
and reassuring him.  (Kelly was adamant on one subject.  "Barry is as
straight as they come," he told Jon.  "I know he turns you on, but you just
can't take advantage of him , at least if you want my help."  For one of
the few times in his life, Jon behaved, though Kelly had to "help him out"
a few times.)  The eighteen year-old developed a ranging fever; the boys
nursed him through it with Ben's help.  Finally, with good food and
continuing care, the boy began to recover.  This, unfortunately, was
followed by another relapse.  One night, for instance, he shook and vomited
the entire night as the story poured out of how he had shot the Indian who
had speared Kyle only to have his buddy die in his arms.  "I couldn't help
him," he screamed in agony.  "I couldn't help him!"  Ben reassured the
boys.  Kyle's death was like a boil.  Until it was lanced, the poison would
infect his whole system.  Now there was hope.  As usual, Ben was correct.
From that night on, Barry's recovery was steady.

When Barry was more himself, the Culpeppers stopped by.  Mrs. Culpepper
seemed to raise his spirits considerably.  "Guess there's a place for
women," Sam growled as they waited for her in the parlor.  Ben simply
grinned at the boys who acted as if they'd heard nothing.  When she
finished her visit, she came into the parlor and asked if they knew that
Barry was an orphan.  "Why would I know that," Sam asked.  Sam, of course,
passed himself off as believing in the "tough love" approach.  One day, for
instance, he stopped by with Barry's new sidekick.  "Whitey" was a new
recruit, a good-looking young cowpoke from the Colorado Territory who, Sam
contended, was an outstanding horseman.  "Guess he'll get you back in shape
soon enough," he growled in Kelly's direction.  Barry liked him and seemed
to respond positively to the Captain's comment that he had another recruit
for him to whip into shape.  When he added that only his new "Corporal"
could do the job right, Barry "got it" - and beamed!  There's one more
thing, Sam Culpepper added.  "You gentlemen have been talking about a trail
ride up to Scott's Bluffs for ever.  I know that country well.  What's the
chance of counting us in?"

Within the week, Barry returned to duty.  Yes, his uniform hung a bit
loosely on him, but his eyes were bright and his step was firm - and for
the rest of his life he credited Jon, Kelly, and Ben with having saved his
life.  "You guys are my buddies," he growled.  "I love you all!"


(To Be Continued)