Madeline Whitefeather had moved to Twelve Sleep County, Wyoming five years ago from Season County, Colorado. She hadn’t ever planned to leave Colorado, but her son Carl had been falsely accused of murder. They had basically run away from civilization and were living in a quiet valley along the western Rockies, just 20 miles south of Torrey. 

Maddie smiled as she saw her son’s face peeking out of the window of the kitchen. ‘He’s been watching for me.’ she thought, as the young man came bounding outside to greet her. 

Maddie had just returned from one of her quarterly trips into Torrey for supplies. She had spent just over a week there, buying supplies, bartering for flour and sugar and taking care of several other necessities. 

Carl wrapped his mother’s 5’ 4" frame in a huge bear hug. He hated when she was gone. Carl was 26 years old with black hair and black eyes. He stood 6’ 7" tall and weighed over 300 pounds, but he was as gentle as a kitten. When Carl released her, her fingers began moving quickly, telling Carl how glad she was to be home. Carl grinned, and responded, his own hands and fingers signing that he was glad, too. Despite his large size, Carl had been born prematurely and was both deaf and mute. He also had the mental and emotional capabilities of a 12 year old. 

Mother and son carried their supplies inside and settled down for a quiet evening. 

* * * 

The cabin was within reach, but Joe Hardy was shivering uncontrollably. ‘Got to get there,’ he told himself, teeth chattering. The fever was taking a toll on his already worn out body. He tugged on the rope of the raft that was around his uninjured shoulder, but fell to his knees, unable to muster enough strength to pull the raft another inch. He would have to walk to the cabin alone and pray that someone was there to help. 

The cabin porch was clear of snow and pine needles. A good sign that the place was inhabited. ‘Please, God!’ Joe prayed again as he leaned against the door and knocked, almost completely overcome with pain, fever and fatigue. 

Joe heard movement inside the cabin, but before he could move, the door swung open suddenly. Joe felt himself falling and braced himself for the pain he knew would accompany it. 

Joe screamed as fire coursed through his arm and shoulder upon impact. He groaned and rolled on his back, gripping his injured arm with his right hand. He felt pressure on his chest and opened his deep blue eyes. A foot was pinning him to the floor and he was looking into the double barrel of a twelve-gage shotgun. 

* * * 

Frank Hardy and Jack Wayne were exuberant as they returned to the Ranger station. Several of the other members of the search team were patting their backs and ‘high-fiving’ the duo. Sheriff Tanner waited patiently for the excitement to die down before questioning the young men. 

"Tell me exactly what you saw on the mountain, Frank," Tanner asked, as anxious as anyone to find survivors. 

Frank related the story of noticing something yellow that seemed out of place on the first pass. Then on the second pass, he told of seeing a lone figure using a flashlight to send an S.O.S. signal. 

"Would your father or brother know how to do that?" asked the sheriff. 

"Dad taught both Joe and me," assured Frank, "What do we do now?" 

"I know you’d like to head right out there," commented the sheriff, "but that’s not practical. Go get some rest if you plan to join us for a hike in those mountains at first light. Be here at 5:30 a.m." Reluctantly, but hopeful beyond belief, Frank and Jack went to their motel room for the night. 

* * * 

Maddie looked down into the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen. Then she noticed the pale skin, fevered brow and bloodstains on the boys face. She pulled the shotgun up and removed her foot from his chest. She knelt beside the youth, and pushed a stand of blond hair off the boy’s forehead. ‘He’s so hot!’ she thought, as her fingers touched his burning skin. 

"What’s your name, child?" Maddie asked the trembling boy. 

"J-Joe," he managed to say through his chattering teeth. 

"Alright Joe," said Maddie with a smile, "Let’s get you inside on the sofa." 

"N-no!" Joe said, trying to sit up, "M-my d-dad is out t-there. I-I’ve got t-to get h-him." Maddie was taken back by Joe’s determination, but would not back down. 

"You’re in no shape to go anywhere, Joe," Maddie stated as she eased him down. "Tell me where your daddy is and Carl will get him." Joe described where he had left his father, at the edge of the ravine. Maddie signed to Carl and the young man ran out the door. 

Joe had caught the hand motions the woman had used and realized that the young man was deaf. He couldn’t have heard the plane. Maybe the woman was deaf, too. Joe was really too tired and hurting too much to think about it. Minutes later, Carl arrived, carrying a still unconscious Fenton Hardy in his arms.

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.