The blue-stone mystery (5 page)

It was a long time before he went to sleep again.

Puzzles and Plans

The next morning it was still raining — a steady, light rain that looked as if it would last forever. Clouds hung low over the mountains and drifted in tattered wisps through the canyons. The air was damp and chilly and heavily scented with pine. Fires crackled in the fireplaces. Most of the ranch guests came to the dining room for breakfast, shaking the cold raindrops from their coats and standing to steam before the great, leaping fire in the lounge. They agreed that the fishing party and picnic would have to be postponed until the first clear day. Chip and Karen were thankful that Mr. Crowe again did not appear.

After the meal some of the guests settled down to card games in the lounge, while others returned to their cabins to write letters or read. Chip spoke quietly to Karen. "Let's go down to the stables. I want to talk to you and Pedro."

"Okay, ril tell Mom and Dad where we're going."

Mr. Trainor gave his permission and the children hurried outside. Clover followed them expectantly to the door. When it closed in her face, she drooped back to the fireplace and flopped disconsolately on the floor.

The Blue-Stone Mystery

Chip, Karen and Pedro sat on bales of hay in the barn, and played with four lively kittens. The mother cat crouched at their feet, tail switching. She watched anxiously lest something happen to her babies. Pedro drew a wisp of hay under the nose of one of the little balls of fluff. The children laughed to see the kitten pounce on it stiff-legged and then bounce away, its back arched, its claws extended. Chip patted the mother cat absent-mindedly while he explained his brilliant idea to the others.

"All of a sudden last night I thought of something — of why Mr. Crowe would want to make everyone think there was a lost mine in the canyon north of here when there wasn't." He waited while they looked at him expectantly. Then he grinned. "It's because he's found that mine in Indian land that Pedro was telling us about, and he doesn't want anyone else to know it! That's why he rode over that way last night. He's probably mining it on the sly."

Karen's dark eyes shone. "Of course!" she agreed. "What else could it be? That must be where he got the pieces of ore, too. Chip, you're so smart!"

Pedro thought for a short time. Then he frowned ferociously. "You may be right, Chip. And, if you are

Puzzles and Plans

— well, the governor of the pueblo must be told about it. But — but first we must be sure/'

"How can we be sure?" Karen asked.

"We must watch and follow him the next time he rides that way," Pedro said positively. "Then we can see for ourselves."

"Why don't you tell your father, Pedro?" Karen was uneasy. "Think of all the things that could go wrong. Mr. Crowe is such a big man, and he gets so mad! What if he caught you?"

"He won't catch me. I know this country better than he does." Pedro was confident. "As for telling my father — this is still just an idea, you know. And, besides, think how fine it would be if we found the mine all by ourselves. I would be the most important hombre in the pueblo. And our names would be in all the papers — maybe even in the history books!"

"Oh, boy! That would he something!" Chip said.

"I will watch carefully. If Senor Crowe rides out, I will follow."

"I'm going with you," Chip announced. "After all, this was my idea."

"That is only fair," Pedro agreed. "But — I'm sor-

The Blue-Stone Mystery

ry, Karen — not you. Three would be too many."

"I don't mind if my name's never in a history book," Karen answered. "I'll stay here. Then if anything does happen and you don't come right back, I can tell our fathers or Mr. Allen what you are trying to do."

"A good idea," Chip approved. "Now all we have to do is wait for Mr. Crowe to come and get a horse." "I do hope you will be careful, both of you," Karen fretted. "I have a funny feeling something's going to happen that we don't expect. If I'm not here when you leave, will you make a sign or something? Just so I'll know for sure?"

"Yep," Chip nodded. "What kind of sign?" "Oh, something easy." Karen frowned thoughtfully. "I know. Just a minute." She skipped out of the stable and returned quickly, holding a small, white stone in her hand. "See, this marks like chalk." She sketched K on the side of a stall. "Here. You take it. Chip. If you and Pedro go after Mr. Crowe, you make a C for Crowe right here, and an arrow showing what direction. Okay?"

"That is a good idea," Pedro said. "An S on the arrow means south to Indian land, W is up into the

Puzzles and Plans

mountains toward The Bowl, E is out on the mesas in that direction. North? I suppose to the canyon, but I just don't beUeve that he will go north at all."

The children played in the barn all morning. Mr. Crowe did not come, but they didn't expect him while it was raining. Late in the afternoon the sun came out, driving the clouds away, leaving the sky a clear, deep blue. Sunshine warmed the forest, and mist crept ghostlike through the trees. Still the man did not come.

At dinner Mr. Brownlee told the others that Mr. Crowe was again eating in his cabin. "He's all right now. He's only getting packed up to leave. He has to go home tomorrow. He said if any of us found the mine, he'd give up his claim to half of it. Mighty generous, I think."

"Well, so far," Mr. Trainor said, laughing, "he's given up half of nothing. I guess that won't break him up."

Throughout the evening the youngsters watched from their observation post atop the little hill behind the stables. It was dark before they gave up and came down. Mr. Crowe still hadn't come. Chip was disappointed. He was sure he was right, but

The Blue-Stone Mystery

why didn't the man go to the lost mine today, especially if he were leaving tomorrow?

"In the morning we must watch very closely," he told the others.

"But I have to go on the picnic if the weather's good,''Karen protested.

"Pedro and I can get along all right. Anyway, we'll leave a sign for you if we go anywhere," her brother promised.

chapter Six

A Discovery

The next morning was beautiful and sunny. Josh Crowe came to the lodge for breakfast. He ignored the children, joked with the adults, and after the meal wished them all good-bye.

"I probably won t be here when you get back from your picnic," he roared. "Friend of mine is picking me up some time this morning. Been a nice vacation,

but I've got to be getting home. Got a big business deal coming up. Nice to have met you all."

He waved as the fishing party left. Giving them time to get a good distance away from the ranch, he then set off on foot, duffle-bag under his arm, toward Indian land. Pedro and Chip almost missed seeing him start out. Expecting Mr. Crowe to want a horse, they had been waiting in the stables. Luckily, Pedro was standing at the doorway and saw Mr. Crowe disappear among the trees.

A Discovery

"Hey, Chip," Pedro called in a low voice. "Hurry up! There he goes. South, too. This is going to be easier than I thought. He's walking."

Chip hurriedly chalked the sign for Karen, and the boys quietly left the corral. Pedro led the way. They stayed off the path, slipping through the tangle of brush above it. A thick cover of pine needles muffled their steps.

"Let's go this way," the Indian boy whispered. "The path takes a big curve here. We can cut across and wait for him on the other side."

Even on the short cut they moved stealthily, a precaution for which they were thankful a few minutes later. Coming in sight of the trail again, they heard stamping ahead of them. Startled, the boys stood frozen, holding their breaths.

"Lie down." Pedro barely moved his lips.

He and Chip slowly and carefully stretched out under a thicket of juniper. A whiff of cigarette smoke told them that someone was close by. Soon heavy steps sounded on the trail.

Nearer, a nasal voice called, "Here, boss. Got your hoss for you."

"Fine, Rip." It was Mr. Crowe who answered "Am

The Blue-Stone Mystery

I glad to get away from that place! I'm mighty sick of dudes, and pretending to be one. Let's go. Won't be long now."

Harness jingled as the men mounted. This was followed by the thud of hoofs on the hard, dirt path. The boys lay motionless a minute longer. Pedro stood up first, then Chip.

"Whew! That was close," Chip said, wiping his wet palms on his blue jeans.

"Si," Pedro agreed. "But now we do not have to be so careful about making noise. Also we can use the path. I wonder who the other one is, that man Rip."

The boys hurried after the men. When other trails came into the one they were following, Pedro easily chose the way taken by Mr. Crowe and his companion. The hoof marks were plain in the dirt.

"Know where they're going?" Chip asked.

"I think it will be to one of just two or three canyons."

"I'd sure be lost if you weren't here," Chip admitted. "How can you tell which path to take?"

"One of the horses has a shoe with a funny nick in it. I have been looking for that mark," Pedro explained.

A Discovery

"No, I don't mean just now," Chip said. "I mean, how do you tell one of these trails from another? They all look alike to me."

"I have known this country all my life," the Indian boy answered, laughing. "Just as well as you know your city streets. And many of these have markings, sort of street signs."

"What do you mean?"

"See up on the side of that tree — over your head?" Pedro pointed to a place where the outer bark had been hacked off in two places to form a crude design. "That mark is for this trail. It's called a blaze. Other trails have different blazes. The Forest Service marked these many years ago."

Chip watched for the slashes from then on. He was surprised that he had not noticed them before. "Does this particular trail-marking go back to the Double O?"

"Yes. The trail passes the stables and goes on to a lake high in the mountains." Pedro stopped and listened. "We had better go a little more slowly. We entered Indian land at that fence back there. We are close to the first canyon."

Chip noticed for the first time that they had left the foothills and were now out on a heavily wooded

The Blue-St one Mystery

mesa. Pedro chose a place where the trees grew right up to the rim of the gorge ahead. Hidden by the brush, the boys looked over the edge. It was a deep canyon, but not very wide. The trail snaked down, across, and up again. Pedro pointed. Mr. Crowe and the other man were almost at the top on the far side.

When the riders were out of sight on the next mesa, Pedro and Chip ran down the path into the canyon, slipping and sliding in the gravelly places. They stopped for a drink from a small stream at the bottom before they started the steep climb up on the other side. Halfway up. Chip leaned against a tree and gasped for breath.

"What's the matter, Chip?" Pedro asked.

"Im dizzy."

"It is the climbing. You are not used to this altitude. You'll be all right after you rest a minute."

They went on more slowly, crossing another large canyon. Occasionally they caught a glimpse of the riders ahead of them. Chip was hot, and his head ached. He wished he had not suggested that crazy idea about Mr. Crowe. Why, these men might ride on for hours! He was about to suggest to Pedro that they forget the whole thing and go back to the ranch,

A Discovery

when his friend turned on the path ahead and motioned for silence.

All around them were pifions — small, rounded pine trees — that hid them from anyone on the ground but gave them very little shelter from the sun. Then the trees ended, leaving a stretch of bare rock for twenty-five feet to the edge of the next canyon. The boys crawled across the open space, feeling terribly exposed as they stretched flat on the hard stone and looked into the canyon far below.

What they saw made them forget their own position. At least a hundred cattle lay in the shade of great cottonwood trees or grazed on tender grass beside a rushing stream. Mr. Crowe was just tying the reins of his horse to a low tree limb.

"Cows! Why are they here?" Chip asked in amazement.

"Steers," Pedro corrected absently. He frowned fiercely in concentration.

"Why should Mr. Crowe be down there with all those steers . . . and in Indian land?" Chip wondered.

Pedro was thinking. In his mind a suspicion was quickly becoming a certainty. "Those must be from