Gertrude Warner - The Mystery of the Lost Mine

Other papers fluttered from the open doorway. Before the wind snatched it away, Jessie planted her foot on a photograph.

“Luis! Isn’t this one of your maps?”

Luis grabbed two more escaping sheets. “So are these! What were my map pictures doing in Tom’s room?”

Violet trapped a piece of wind-blown paper against the wall. She flattened the sheet with the palm of her hand, then studied the paper.

“I think this will answer a lot of questions,” she said.

The others gathered around Violet.

“It’s a letter from Tom,” she said. “It’s to somebody named Frank. See? It’s signed Tom Parker.’ ”

Violet squinted at the messy handwriting. “ ‘My great-uncle Jake,’ ” she began, then gasped. “ ‘My great-uncle Jake, the prospector, has no idea who I am . . . can’t wait to get my hands on his mine. Then I’ll have a new address—Easy Street.’ ”

Her eyes huge, she glanced up from the page. “Tom is Jake’s great-nephew. And Jake doesn’t know it!”

“Where’s Easy Street?” Benny asked. “Maybe that’s where Tom is now.”

“It’s an expression,” Jessie answered. “It means he’ll have plenty of money.”

“This sounds like trouble,” Henry said. “First we find that advertisement with the letters cut out—”

“—just like Jake’s warning note,” Luis broke in. “And now this letter.” His tone became serious. “If Tom wants Jake’s mine, then that means Jake has found the Lost Dutchman’s mine!”

“But where is Jake?” Jessie asked. “Did Tom go to his great-uncle’s camp? Was he the man who left the footprints—and the man we saw on the rocks—” Her words trailed off. She was really afraid something bad had happened to Jake.

“We need to find Tom,” Henry said firmly. “Tom is the key.”

“He’s sure not here,” Benny said, peering into the deserted bunkhouse. “Let’s go back to the restaurant and see if he’s there. Besides,” he added, “I could use a piece of apple pie right about now.”

Despite their worries, the others laughed. No matter what the crisis, Benny was always hungry!

They didn’t find Tom in the restaurant. But the stranger who had driven up in the shiny black car sat perched on a stool. His white shirt was stuck to his back with sweat and his striped tie was flopped over one shoulder. He guzzled a large iced tea.

When he saw the Aldens and Luis, he swiveled around.

“Just the people I want to talk to,” he said. “You’re the Aldens from Two-D, correct?”

Henry answered, “That’s right.”

“Do you know anything about your neighbors taking off? You know, the Clarks, in that big RV?”

Jessie shook her head. “No, sir. We saw them this morning at breakfast, but then we went riding. When we came back, they had already left.”

The man sighed. “It’s the same old story.”

“What story? How come you’re looking for Mr. and Mrs. Clark?” Benny asked. “Are you a relative?”

“No, I represent a bank. The Clarks borrowed money from our bank to buy that motor home.” He frowned. “They never made any payments on their loan. They kept moving from state to state. So the bank sent me to track them down and take back the motor home.”

Benny hopped up on the stool next to the man. “It doesn’t sound like a very fun job.”

The man smiled wanly. “It’s not. But people like the Clarks make jobs like mine necessary. They also bought a lot of expensive jewelry on credit that they’ve never paid for, either.”

“I didn’t think newlyweds were supposed to have much money,” Jessie said.

“They don’t, usually,” the man said. “Most couples save until they can afford luxuries. The Clarks didn’t want to wait. They made a habit of buying things they couldn’t afford and then skipping out.”

“They seemed like such nice, happy people,” Violet said wistfully, remembering Mrs. Clark’s smile.

“They won’t be so happy when I catch up to them,” the man said. “And I will find them. A motor home like theirs isn’t easy to hide. I’ll stay on their trail.”

The man left then, after wishing them all a good day.

“I can’t believe people buy things and never intend to pay for them,” Jessie said, indignant. She wondered if Tom Parker had skipped town with the Clarks. He fit into the puzzle somewhere.

“People do it all the time,” Janine remarked, dropping the man’s change in the cash register drawer. “Just like old Jake.”

“But Jake says he’ll pay you back,” Benny insisted. “With interest. That’s what he says.”

“Yes, he does.” Janine softened a moment. “I wonder where the old guy is? He hasn’t been in here for a cup of coffee in days.”

“That’s what we want to—” Henry began, then stopped as the cowbell on the door jangled.

Mr. Tobias came inside. He wore a wrinkled white T-shirt and jeans. Under his eyes were blue smudges, as if he hadn’t slept in a long time.

“Coffee, Janine,” he said to the waitress. “Make it extra strong, please.”

He chose a stool at the counter, then looked at the Aldens, who stared back at him.

“Mr. Tobias,” Violet stated. She recognized the pale face she had seen in the window of the silver trailer as they left for the desert hike last night.

“Yes, I am,” Mr. Tobias answered. “Can I do something for you, young lady?”

“Do you know where Jake is?” she asked at last.

Mr. Tobias sipped his coffee. “Who? I don’t know any Jake.”

“He’s the old prospector,” Henry said. “He comes in here to buy groceries. He’s looking for the Lost Dutchman’s mine. And Tom Parker is his nephew.”

“Great-nephew,” Jessie corrected. “But Jake doesn’t know this.”

Mr. Tobias furrowed his brow. “Wait a minute. You kids are going too fast for me. Tom Parker is related to this Jake character?”

“Yes,” Luis spoke up. “And we think Tom wants to get Jake’s mine. Maybe he did something to his great-uncle. They’ve both disappeared.”

“Well, if Jake is a prospector, he’ll be just fine,” Mr. Tobias speculated. “But that Tom Parker won’t last five minutes if he’s lost in the hills.”

“Why?” asked Benny. “Tom’s a real cowboy.”

Mr. Tobias laughed so hard, his coffee spluttered. “Tom Parker a real cowboy! What a joke! The man is no more a westerner than I am.”

“But those outfits he wears . . . and the way he talks,” Jessie said. But then she remembered how Tom’s desert lecture sounded as if he was reading from a textbook.

“Fake. Everything Tom Parker knows about the West he read in books. And you can buy those clothes in Phoenix,” said Mr. Tobias.

“How do you know this?” Henry asked suspiciously.

“For one thing, his clothes are too new-looking. Real cowboys look rugged, like they’ve been riding the trail. And real cowboys don’t go around calling everybody ‘pardner.’ Tom must get his lingo from old westerns.”

“He tricked us!” Benny exclaimed.

Janine set the coffeepot down with a thump. “He fooled me, too. That slick talker! No wonder he couldn’t fix the filter on the pool or take care of the grounds around here. He probably doesn’t know how.”

“Where is he now?” Henry asked, going to the window.

Outside the raging wind chased debris across the parking lot.

Luis joined him. “We’re in for a real dust storm. If anybody’s out in that, they’d better take cover.”

“I hope poor Jake is okay,” said Jessie. “Tom is probably miles away with the Clarks.”

At that moment, the door burst open in a gust of stinging sand. Two figures stumbled in, one shoving the other ahead of him.