Buck and Vin continued picking their way along the path left by the others. The two didn't speak much. Buck would have preferred a little conversation, but Vin was tight on his task.

Wilmington leaned back in his saddle and watched the tracker. He hoped that they caught up to the killers soon. He hoped that everything was going to be fine, and that they would be able to disentangle both Ezra and that kid from whatever trouble they had found themselves in.

After about an hour, Jack started fussing again and Ezra tried to keep him quiet. He had settled the boy on the saddle in front of him because he could not hold him with the bound arm and the right arm was too sore now from the constant weight and the banged-up elbow. The boy had been babbling, running his hands through Chaucer's mane and kicking his feet gently against the saddle, but now he was just whining. The diaper was wet again and the child was most likely hungry.

"We'll need to stop," Ezra said definitively.

Marty pulled his horse to a stop and started to dismount. Penn glared at him. "Are you taking orders from him?" he asked.

Marty looked from Penn to Geno, and Geno spoke, "He's gotta check out the kid."

Penn's eyes turned on Ezra. "Why the hell do ya need to do that?"

"The child needs to be tended. You can't expect a child of this age to continue at this pace. He requires sustenance and a replacement for his diaper. The child's wet," Ezra said firmly.

"As long as it's still breathing, that's all I care about." Penn nodded to the others to keep them moving, but Ezra had already swung himself out of the saddle with the boy in his arm. He knew he was pressing his luck, but he had to slow them down so that the others could catch up, and he had to look after the kid.

"We'll stop now," Ezra drawled.

Marty had not moved his horse. He looked back at the southerner whose arm was still tied to the saddle.

"Keep moving, boys," Penn said.

"He's not ready to go," Marty said timidly. "He's gotta get back on his horse."

"Drag him if ya have to," Penn said offhand.

Marty looked uncertain, but slowly started to walk his horse forward. Chaucer balked, digging in his hooves and refusing to move. The horse strained as its halter was pulled forward by the other horse.

"Steady," Ezra said softly, holding his ground, "Good boy, steady." And then he spoke louder. "If you drag me, you risk losing the boy. Certainly that wouldn't be acceptable."

Marty continued urging his horse forward. Chaucer was forced to take several halting steps, hauling Ezra along with him. Ezra was tripped up and had to hang on to the saddle horn to keep upright, with the boy clinging to his neck. The horse rolled his eyes back to his owner apologetically.

"Easy, old friend," Ezra said between his teeth as he regained his footing. The horse lurched onward again and Ezra stumbled forward. He could not get a good grip on the saddle horn due to his bound hand, and the other arm was occupied with keeping Jack out of harm's way. If this kept up, he would be in big trouble. He stumbled forward, keeping up with the moving horse.

"Stop," Geno said, "We can't damage the goods before we get our hands on the money."

The blond man glared at Ezra, but apparently agreed with Geno. "Get the kid fixed up and let's get the hell out of here."

Marty seemed relieved and dismounted so that he could untie Ezra from the saddle, leaving the rope on his arm. The gambler pulled his hand, trailing the cord, to himself. The handkerchief showed signs of blood seeping through. The boy huddled against Standish as he pulled down the saddlebags and found a place to sit down.

The other men were stretching and milling about. Ezra changed the child and fed him some of the bread and jam. The boy smiled and clapped his hands.

"How can one be so oblivious?" Ezra asked quietly. Jack seemed perfectly happy in all of this, not even aware of the danger that they were in. Such a young child; he should escape from this without any emotional scars, Ezra hoped. The gambler had enough bad memories of his own childhood; he wouldn't wish them on anyone.

He remembered the last time he had seen his young cousins. He'd prepared them for their father's wedding, sent them off to the church, then had settled in to wait for their return. He'd been extremely surprised by the arrival of his mother shortly afterward. He hadn't even known that Maude had been invited to the celebration.

For a moment he'd been jubilant, thinking that she'd come to take him back with her, but after one look, he'd realized that it was not to be so. She had the most professional poker face, but Ezra had learned to recognize that certain look. She had been taking him off to another relative.

"You are no longer needed or wanted now that my darlin' sister has been replaced. Don't act like such a child, Ezra. You should know by now that partings are to be expected in our business. You know better than to become attached to anyone, Ezra. After that discussion we had regarding Mrs. Greer, I would have thought you could handle this. Have you forgotten everything that I have taught you? I'll send for you as soon as I can, but I can't have you with me at the moment."

He had been shuttled off to the meeting hall, where the wedding reception was taking place and had been left in someone's wagon until it was time to go. He'd be sent to the train station when it was all over. Ezra had watched as his young cousins and uncle exited with the new Mrs. Phelps.

They'd looked so happy together, he'd thought, like a real family.

Ezra glanced reluctantly at his watch and then sighed With a quiet movement, he placed it behind a knob on a stump. His elbow and right wrist didn't hurt so badly now, but his left arm was another story. He must have wrenched it in that poor display. The wrist didn't seem to be bleeding too badly, but it certainly hurt. He moved his fingers slowly, praying that he hadn't caused any damage to his hand.

He wished that they had removed the rope so that he could wash the sores. Between the blood, baby urine, baby food and mud, his jacket was in horrible condition. But he was still in one piece and, aside from his wrist, he was in fairly good shape. He glanced to half-hidden watch, and hoped the others were close.

"Time's up, pretty boy," Geno said. He made a move to pull Ezra upright, but the gambler beat him to it and stood with the boy and the saddlebag.

Ezra kept his head down as he headed back to the horse. Marty met him and tied the rope again to the saddle horn. He was about to swing himself back up when Penn came up behind him.

"You try to boss me around again, little man, and I'll have Sal hold the kid while I drag you to your death," Penn growled. "Do you understand me?"

"You're perfectly clear," Ezra replied as he watched Penn's cool expression. He had no doubts that he'd do exactly has he stated.

Vin stared at the ground, stating, "We'll catch 'em by mid day, I reckon." He dismounted and walked a short distance before he squatted down near the ground and retrieved something.

"I know, Ezra," Vin said as he clutched the item.

Buck waited until Vin handed him a watch. Buck sighed and carefully secured the item with the rest of Ezra's possessions. They had been having a veritable Ezra treasure hunt.

"If we don't find him soon, there's ain't gonna be nothin' left of him," Buck quipped.

Vin winced as he mounted his horse. "Don't say that again, okay, Buck?"

Buck shook his head realizing how bad his last statement sounded. "I don't understand why he keeps leaving stuff. I mean, we already got the message that it's him."

Vin shrugged. "He just wants us to know that he's okay. Tellin' us he knows we're gonna to help him. He's asking us to come get him."

Buck nodded. "Let's go then."

They had been traveling for several hours when Ezra looked over his shoulder. He smiled with recognition.

"We will need to stop," Ezra drawled.

Penn and the rest of them turned toward him. Penn looked incredulous. "You're kidding," he said.

"The child requires that we pause," Ezra said defiantly. He had seen two horsemen in the distance. There was no doubt that it was Buck and Vin. He had to slow this group down again.

"You're just looking for trouble, aren't you?" Penn asked.

"I'm afraid, it's trouble that looks for me," Ezra replied. Marty had stopped his horse, so Ezra once again swung himself down.

Penn looked at him levelly. "Sal, take the kid. Geno, why don't you take Marty's horse this time."

"Hold up," Vin said and pulled his spyglass from his pocket. "It's them. And shit, Stoker wasn't kiddin'. Those are big guys."

"Do you see Ezra?" Buck asked.

"Yeah. Got off his horse. Got that kid with him." Vin strained to make out what was going on across the distance. "Someone's taking the kid from him." Vin suddenly dropped the spyglass into his pocket and spurred his horse into a full gallop, growling, "Son of a bitch!"

Buck took off after him. "What?" Buck shouted after Vin, trying to catch up to the fleeing horseman in front of him. "What's happening?"

Vin had pulled his mares leg and was firing ahead of him. "Damn them," he shouted. He turned so that Buck could hear him. "They're gonna drag 'im."

Buck could see two horses moving ahead of him. Chaucer was tied behind another horse, being pulled along at a fairly good pace and obviously against his will. The rider on the lead horse was a huge man, looking over his shoulder and laughing.

Buck could not see Ezra. He pulled out his pistol and started firing, too. Vin had seen some sort of a ruckus around the horses at their last stop. He figured this wasn't the first time this had happened to Ezra.

Buck watched as the five men pulled their weapons and, mercifully, the two horses came to a halt.

Wilmington heard the blond one shout, "You'd better stop or I'll kill 'im." The man pointed his pistol to the far side of Chaucer, apparently to where Ezra was.

Vin and Buck pulled to a stop, weapons ready. They could see Ezra's hand still tied to the saddle horn, and his legs beneath, but apparently the gambler was hunched over and hidden by the body of his horse.

"That's better," the man shouted again.

There were five big men: the blond, two dark haired men that were alike enough to be brothers, a thin man and a giant that must have stood seven feet tall. They stood with their guns drawn and ready. For a few moments, no one moved.

Suddenly, Vin and Buck saw Ezra's head pop up over his saddle and look in their direction. He grinned.

Thank God, Buck thought.

One of the men untied Ezra, none to gently, and pulled the gambler to one side. Ezra looked scuffed and dusty – but in one piece. Vin and Buck watched as the huge man and the blond talked down to Ezra, and Ezra glared defiantly. Finally, after several minutes, Ezra turned away from the men and headed toward the two.

"They're letting him go!" Buck said hopefully.

Vin watched as Ezra walked toward them. He was limping and there was something wrong about his left arm. The two men urged their horses closer until Ezra held up his hand to stop them, continuing to close the distance between them on foot.

Finally, while he was still some distance from them, one of the men behind him whistled and Ezra came to a halt. He was far enough from the two of them that he would have to shout, and close enough to the others that they could easily hear him.

The usually-neat gambler was a mess. His jacket was filthy, his hair was disheveled, his face unshaved, his pants ripped, his boots were terribly scuffed. His cuffs hung down below his hands, and the left was stained with blood.

"Good evening, gentleman," Ezra said loudly. "May I say I'm elated to see you?"

"Are you okay, Ezra?" Buck asked anxiously.

"Due to your impeccable timing, I'm remarkably unscathed. I'd like to thank you emphatically."

"What's goin' on?" Vin asked, "Are they lettin' ya go?"

"Unfortunately, I'm only a messenger at this point," Ezra said with a smile. "My traveling companions have found your arrival fortuitous as well. They require you to perform a service for them."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"There's a man, William Benedict, in Evansville. It's the next town. These men have Mr. Benedict's grandchild and would be more than happy to accept $5,000 from him."

"Ransom?" Buck called back.

Ezra smiled and said distinctly, "The child will remain safe until the point when the money is delivered. It's important that you understand that exactly."

Vin watched Ezra carefully. There was something odd about the way he was standing. It was obvious that his left arm was giving him some trouble, wrenched by the dragging. The tracker would have expected him to be hanging onto the left arm with his right, except he was doing the opposite. The gambler held his right arm with his left, with one finger extended over his forearm. Vin stared at Ezra's arm for a moment and then met his eyes. The two men exchanged knowing looks over the distance.

Ezra continued talking, "They request that you go to town and extract this money from Mr. Benedict and return here at 8:00 tomorrow morning. That is their request."

The man behind Ezra whistled again and Ezra smiled tiredly. "I'm afraid they want me to return. I'll be dispatched early if I don't comply. I'll be ready, whatever the outcome." He turned and started limping back toward the other men.

"Good luck, Ez," Buck said, not knowing what else to say.

"Nothing but, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra said, not turning back toward him.

"We'll take care of it," Vin promised.

"I know you shall, Mr. Tanner," Ezra replied, as he continued on his way. The two horsemen remained where they were until Ezra returned to the company of the other men. Vin frowned, as he saw a man reach for the gambler's right arm, but Ezra offered him his left and that arm was immediately tied to the end of a rope.

Vin knew that that arm was giving him pain, but he understood why Ezra needed his right arm free.

"He sure looks small next to those guys," Buck said glumly.

Vin nodded. He had never really thought about Ezra as being small in stature, but he looked so tiny amongst those huge men.

"Josiah'd look tiny 'longside that big 'un," Vin commented. They watched as Ezra took the child back from the thinnest of the group. The baby immediately clung to their friend, and tried to climb into his filthy jacket. The man who held the rope then tugged Ezra and the child out of sight and into a copse of trees.

"What now?" Buck said.

"Head toward Evansville," Vin replied.

Buck furrowed his brow, "Hell, Vin, there's no way that I'm gonna leave Ezra here with them. They don't need him anymore if they've been keeping him just to deliver that message. We gotta keep an eye on him."

"We'll head toward Evansville," Vin explained. "They're expectin' to see us go. We'll do some scoutin' and find a good place to dig in."

"But what about the ransom?"

"Ezra don't want us to go get it. They ain't gonna to deliver the babe livin', so I guess the ransom don't matter a fig. They're gonna kill Ezra too once this is done. He's got his pea-shooter still, and he's ready for whatever we come up with."

Buck looked shocked. "When'd he say that?"

Vin smiled and returned, "You weren't paying attention."

The two lawmen circled wide around the trees on the way to Evansville, and then backtracked, following a track that would keep them out of view.

After carefully scouting the area, Vin decided that the best place to get into position was the location where they had started, so they slowly made their way back. They settled in, as close as they could without being seen.

It had been several hours since they had first caught up with Ezra and the others, and they had not seen them again since they had disappeared into the trees. The two peacekeepers had been talking, trying to figure out a plan on how to free their friend and the child, but had so far come up with nothing that would work.

It was nearly nightfall when they heard riders heading toward them. They looked up to see four horsemen. "Shit, more of them?" Buck asked, looking to Vin.

Vin, looking through his spyglass, smiled. "Nope. More of us."

Buck couldn't have been happier to see Chris, JD, Nathan and Josiah appear out of the distance. Vin and Buck went out to meet them, keeping low to the ground to stay out of sight.

"You led us on quite a chase," Josiah said as he approached.

"We weren't the ones that planned it," Vin returned.

Chris nodded. "I got to thinkin' about that wagon. Figured we'd join you to check it out."

"Is Ezra with you?" JD asked quickly. "He never showed up in town."

"Not yet," Buck replied. Vin and Buck told them what they knew and the others listened seriously.

"Those guys sound like a bunch of bullies," JD declared.

"Dangerous ones," Vin added.

"We'd better get Ezra out of there as soon as possible," Nathan said. "Doesn't sound like they're treating him very well."

"What we need, brothers," Josiah rumbled, "Is a plan."

Chris nodded. "They're expecting a ransom. Let's get it to them"

"You want one of us to ride into town and find this Mr. Benedict?" JD asked.

"Nah," Chris said, "If they are not planning to come through with they're part of the bargain, I see no reason to come through with ours. We outnumber them. There're only five of them and six of us."

"Seven," Buck corrected. "Ezra is armed still. He'll be in this, too."

"That's right," Chris accepted, "Seven."

Ezra changed and fed the boy, using only his right hand, as his left was tied too tightly and hurt too badly to help anyway. He could still move the hand, at least that. He hoped there was no permanent damage. And now his right knee felt like hell. He had twisted it trying to keep out from under Chaucer's feet during his last act of stupidity.

He hadn't done a very good job of this, he knew. His only hope now was that someone would rescue the child and himself.

He looked out through the trees, wondering where Buck and Vin were. It felt better just knowing that they were nearby. They would be the ones to perform the rescue.

Jack burbled at him, saying "Eh-wah!" over and over again. The boy crawled slowly around him, content to stay nearby and away from the other men.

Ezra wished he could do more for the child, wished he could get him out of here. He hadn't been able to do much of anything since this whole fiasco started. He was at the mercy of these giants, and could do nothing about it.

He saw Geno and Penn approach him and he sat the boy behind him.

"Tell me about those friends of yours," Penn said. "Will they do what I want 'em to?"

"They'll do as I've said," Ezra replied.

"They won't take the money for themselves, will they?" Penn asked. Ezra glared at them, and Penn continued, "Because you don't look like the most trustworthy sort, and if they are friends of yours, it makes me wonder."

"They'd better come back," Geno growled. "If they don't, I'm gonna break you apart."

"I'm sure that they shall," Ezra replied, "And thus deprive you of that delight."

Without warning Geno slammed his fist into Ezra's nose. The gambler curled up in pain as the others laughed. The world around him seemed to tip and sway as Ezra fought to overcome the stabbing pain that filled his head. He could still hear Geno and Penn laughing as they walked away. Slowly the world came back into order.

Why the hell did they do that? Ezra thought. Apparently there had been no reason for that latest attack on him.

Ezra shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He dropped a hand from his face, glad to find only a little blood. His nose was already starting to swell; his eyes would probably follow. Damn.

Buck and Vin better get here soon. He wouldn't be able to protect the child for much longer if this kept up.

Jack crawled around him and found his way into Ezra's lap as he cautiously felt his nose. It didn't seem to be broken. No blood, just pain. Jack looked puzzled and then laughed at him.

"So you think I am making funny faces for your benefit?" Ezra said to the boy who beamed back at him. Ezra just hoped to God that the child remembered none of this.

Night fell and the moon rose. The six waited for time to pass, sufficient time for someone to ride to Evansville and return. They could not pull this off unless they made it look good. They listened to the activity within the trees. The men were laughing for a while, but after that all was quiet.

Finally, at Chris' command, Vin and Buck mounted and headed toward the outlaws.

"This had better work," Buck said, holding a saddlebag in front of him. It looked as if it might hold a ransom.

"We just gotta get them out into the open," Vin said. He did not turn his head but he knew that Nathan, Josiah, JD and Chris were following on foot, keeping close to cover and hidden in the night. "Our friends will take care of the rest."

Suddenly a voice called out from within the trees, "Who the hell is out there?"

"We've got the money!" Buck shouted. "All of it."

"You're early," the voice returned. They heard the distinctive sound of a gun being cocked from somewhere within the hiding place.

"The law's getting riled up in town. Benedict wanted us to get the money to you now so he could get his kid," Buck continued. "He's afraid what'd happen if the law found you first."

There was silence from within the trees and then movement. Three men emerged, the thin one and the two brothers. They were armed and ready.

One of the brothers said, "Let's see it."

Buck held up the bag and the thin man approached as if to take it from him. "We want to see your hostages," Buck said, holding it back.

The brother spoke again, "You'll get the kid soon enough. We're keepin' the other one." And the three men laughed.

Vin glowered at them. "You bring out both of them or you ain't seein' any of this money."

The other brother said, "You don't understand, do you? We got the upper hand here. We got the whole thing under control. We take what we want." With that he leveled his revolver at Vin.

The man fired, as Vin pulled sharply on Peso's reins, twisting out of the way. The man was cut down by a bullet from Josiah.

"Ah hell," Buck thought. It wasn't supposed to work this way.

Ezra moved the boy behind him when he heard the horses' approach. He heard Buck and Vin, and then watched as Danny, Marty and Sal went out to meet them.

At the first sound of gunfire, Penn stood, panicked, which quickly turned to rage. He could hear his own men screaming as they were shot down. He turned on his captives and lifted his pistol to Ezra.

The disheveled gambler raised his hand, as if to ward off the shot, and a gun magically appeared in his hand. Penn's last emotion was one of utter surprise as a bullet from the derringer found its mark.

Geno turned, and the second shot exploded into his shoulder instead of his heart. Ezra dropped the now empty weapon as Geno barreled toward him. The shot hadn't even slow him down. Ezra had one last chance. He picked up a hand-sized stone and threw it with all his might at the approaching menace.

The man never even saw the projectile. It hit his head with the sound of a ripe melon being thumped and the huge man staggered, fell to his knees and then tipped face-first to the dirt.

Ezra panting, grabbed the child. He had heard several shots around him, but it was suddenly quiet. A figure came crashing through the trees and Ezra turned to face whatever it was.

He smiled, and allowed himself to finally feel relief. "Mr. Larabee, I didn't expect you to join the festivities," he drawled.

Larabee looked at the two dead men. "That all of 'em?" he asked.

"It is if you've taken care of the other three," Ezra responded. He watched as the rest of the group entered the area.

Chris shook his head as he re-holstered his gun. "Damn, Ezra, you look like hell."

"I'm glad to only look like hell and not be there," Ezra replied.

The Seven, plus one, sat around a campfire while Nathan tended to Ezra's wrists. Ezra had filled them in on the facts he felt were necessary regarding the recent events.

"Ow, that hurts," he muttered as Nathan attempted to apply a balm to the open sores. "You do this only to aggravate me."

"Would you keep still," Nathan grumbled. "That kid is better behaved than you are."

The boy was currently sitting on Chris' lap, gurgling and laughing. "Cute kid," the gunslinger said, remembering another time and place.

"Your knee should be okay, just a bit sore for a few days. Keep off it, okay? You've strained your wrist and shoulder pretty bad. I'm going to want this arm in a sling. It doesn't look like you've done any serious damage, though. These sores should heal up okay if you do like I tell you." The healer gave the gambler a knowing glance as he worked on bandaging his wrists.

Nathan went on, "Your nose and eyes are going to get more swollen. You're not gonna be very pretty for a day or two. Other than that, you're gonna be just fine."

Ezra sighed. "I'm afraid that I shall not be fine until I'm able to get out of these clothes. They're in a most wretched state."

Buck laughed. "Not a problem Ez, we got your stuff. All of it."

"Stuff?" Ezra asked and then he brightened. "Do you have my new jacket?"

Buck shook his head and moved to his saddle and supplies. He came back with something wrapped in brown paper. He started to hand it to Ezra but the gambler refused. "Look at my hands, Mr. Wilmington, I can't possibly touch it. Would you please...?"

Buck dutifully unwrapped the pale yellow jacket and held it up before Ezra, who just smiled at the sight.

"It sure is a pretty one," JD said.

"I'd almost forgotten it existed," Ezra said thoughtfully. "Now if you'd be so kind as return it to its packaging, Mr. Wilmington, I'd be grateful." Ezra leaned back against a fallen tree and looked very tired.

"If you want to get cleaned up, I can heat up some water for ya, Ezra," JD said helpfully.

"In a moment," Ezra said and closed his eyes. "You should put some water on to boil in any case. I'll need to take care of the diapers again. I'm almost out." A second later, he was asleep.

"Eh-wah!" Jack said as he bounced on Chris' knee.

Chris looked to the others and said, "I don't know why he keeps saying that."

"Can any of you imagine Ezra cleaning diapers?" Nathan said with a laugh.

"I believe our brother Ezra is capable of almost anything," Josiah said, as he picked up a blanket and headed toward the sleeping man. The sound of approaching horses, stopping his action.

Chris handed the child to Nathan and stood to see what was coming. The five men drew their weapons and tensely waited.

A small group of men descended upon them. "We're the law from Evansville!" a man shouted, his rifle aimed at them.

"We're the law from Four Corners!" Chris shouted back.

The two groups didn't move for several seconds and then they finally relaxed and approached each other.

"We heard about the killings near Four Corners," one of the men said. "This man's son and daughter-in-law were the ones murdered. His grandson is missing. What do you know about it?"

Chris looked to the older man and said, "I take it you are William Benedict?"

The stately looking man stepped forward and spoke in a low English accent, "Yes, sir, I am. Do you bring word of my grandson? Have you found the men who killed my son and his wife?" His voice broke as he said, "Please tell me that the child is safe."

Chris nodded. "The men who did it are dead. We'll show you the bodies if you want. As for the child..." Chris motioned to Nathan who came forward with the boy.

The old man started to cry as he reached for the baby. The child smiled sweetly at the old man and let himself to be handed over. "Oh, dear sweet child. When I heard about Jack and Violet, I almost lost hope. What happened? How did he get here?"

Chris let Vin and Buck take over that part of the conversation as he headed back to the fire, to Ezra. He squatted down beside the exhausted conman. He smiled to see a toy dog peeking out of Ezra's waistcoat pocket, and then he shook Ezra gently.

The man came suddenly awake, going for his derringer, Colt and Remington in quick succession, and finding none in place, swung.

Chris was barely able to duck out of the way, grabbing Ezra's flying fist before he had a chance to do it again. "Ezra, you'd be funny if you weren't so dangerous."

Ezra shook his head and muttered, "I'm pleased that I amuse you so."

"Come on." Chris stood and offered Ezra his hand. Ezra looked puzzled and Chris explained, "The kid's grandfather is here."

Ezra allowed Chris to help him to his feet and then followed him, limping slowly, to where the men were gathered around the elderly gentleman with the child.

"Yeah, that's the guy there," Buck said as Ezra approached.

"Mr. Standish," Benedict said, extending a hand, "How can I ever thank you for saving my grandchild's life?"

Ezra shook the man's hand, saying, "Truly sir, I only kept an eye on him during our dual incarceration."

The old man looked between the pristine child and the tattered, bruised, gambler and found it hard to believe that they had just come from the same place. The boy was reaching toward the conman.

Benedict continued, "I would like to bring this child home and out of this situation immediately."

"That would be an excellent idea," Ezra drawled tiredly. "That was my hope from the beginnin'. Will you be returning to Evansville?"

Benedict frowned. "I can't stay here any longer. This country is far too violent, too dangerous. I'm returning to England as soon as possible. This child can't be reared here." He looked at his grandson who continued to reach toward the gambler. "I want to thank you again."

"It's not necessary," Ezra replied. "Your grandson is a delight and was never the slightest amount of trouble. It was a pleasure to have made his acquaintance."

The old man nodded and said to the child, "Well, Lemuel, it's time that we went home."

"Lemuel?" Ezra said his jaw dropping slightly. "I, I was calling him Jack, like his father."

The old man smiled. "No, Lemuel was named for Jack's commander in the Union Army. And my son was named for a dear friend of mine in London. We really don't have 'family names' in my family."

"Oh," Ezra responded with uncharacteristic brevity.

The man stood there for a moment more, with the child in his arms, then turned. He handed the little boy to one of the Evansville Lawmen so that he could mount his horse and the child was returned to him. Josiah and JD handed the rest of the child's belongings to one of the other men.

The child said "Eh-wah!" again as he looked back at them.

Ezra felt Chris' hand on his shoulder as the men turned their horses.

"Again," Benedict said, "I thank you."

"No need," Ezra said under his breath. He watched as the horses started to move away and then suddenly started forward. "Wait!" he shouted and lamely followed the horses. "Wait!" Benedict turned as Ezra caught up to him. "I almost forgot." The gambler reached into this pocket and pulled out a package wrapped in a handkerchief. Benedict took it and shifted it to his pocket. He shook the gambler's hand again before taking off into the darkness.

Chris and the others caught up to where Ezra was standing. "What was that?" Buck asked.

Ezra continued to watch where the child had disappeared. "Just something to remember."

The old man waited impatiently in his home. He heard voices outside and he stood excitedly. Within seconds his three grandchildren bolted through the door and were in his arms.

"Grandfather!" they said as one.

"My dears, how you have grown! Just look at you!" There were tears in his eyes as he held his grandchildren for the first time in years. The youngest, Nora, had been just a baby then and she looked at him shyly now. The middle child, Beatrice, had been barely talking, and now she was babbling like a brook. The eldest, an always cheerful boy, tugged at his jacket as he hugged him.

The children talked about their trip, telling him all about the thousand little things that had gone on in their lives. It had been too long since he had last seen them, too terribly long. The old man listened lovingly to every word, and finally the eldest said, "Grandfather, I want to see the cowboy things."

The old man smiled. "The cowboy things, is it? Do you remember where they are?"

The boy laughed and ran ahead to the old man's study, followed closely by his sisters. "There!" the boy said, pointing at a glass case on his grandfather's desk.

The three children crowded around and peered through the glass. "Is that you, grandfather?" asked Bea, pointing at the man with the western hat in a sepia photograph.

"My little dove, how old do you think I am?"

"Ancient!" said the eldest. "Father says you had a dinosaur for a pet."

"Peter, your father is a very amusing man," the old man said and then pointed to the picture. "That man is my father, Jack Benedict. That's my mother, Violet, and... the baby... is me."

The three children giggled and Peter said, "You were never a baby, grandfather!"

"Is that what your father says?" Lemuel asked with a dry laugh.

"No, I said it!" Peter replied defiantly.

"You are just as bad as your father," Lemuel chuckled.

He was proud of his son. He had grown to be a marvelously poised man. Lemuel had missed his son so much during these past years. When the man had gone off to war, Lemuel had suffered terribly. When he came back wounded, his heart broke, but he was overjoyed that his son had come home at all. It wasn't safe to keep the children in London during the war, so the family had been spirited into the country.

They had begged Lemuel to come as well, but the old man saw no point to it. He had lived through so much in his life, and never backed down from anything. He wouldn't back down from this.

"Is that your father's watch?" Bea said, who was just learning to read. "Jack G. Benedict?"

"Yes it is, and that's my mother's comb," Lemuel said with a sad smile. "These are the only things that I have of theirs." He knew he could sugar coat the story, but these children had lived through a world war. There was no need to hide anything from them. "They were killed by very bad men shortly after that picture was taken and I was kidnapped."

"Really?" Bea squealed.

"Yes, I was held for two days and was in great danger," Lemuel said simply.

"E.P.S..." Nora said, pointing at the monogrammed silk handkerchief that was also contained in the glass case. "What does E .P.S. spell?"

"That belonged to the man that saved my life. He took care of me during the time that I was captured. He saw to it that no harm every came to me and that I was safely delivered to my grandfather."

Bea smiled and said, "What was he like?"

"Oh my Bea, I was just a little baby. Sometimes I think I remember things. It seems to me that he had a most wonderful voice. I was never afraid while I was with him. And he was a huge man, a giant. He towered over all the others."

"Grandfather, what does E.P.S. mean?" Nora asked again impatiently.

"It's for his initials. I never received a clear answer regarding the 'P', but the E.S. stands for Ezra Standish."

"Ezra?" the three children cried.

"Like father?" Bea added.

"Exactly," their grandfather answered.

THE END