Gertrude Warner - The Mystery of the Lost Mine

Tom Parker strode into the lounge area. He wore soft, knee-high boots and a long, suede duster with fringed sleeves. His silver belt buckle sported a large turquoise stone that matched the stone in his string tie. His cowboy hat was black, with a jaunty white feather.

“Wow,” breathed Benny. He gazed longingly at Tom’s boots. More than ever, he wished he were a cowboy.

“Don’t you look handsome,” Mrs. Clark teased. “Like a real guide from the Old West.”

Tom tipped his hat gallantly. “Thank you, ma’am. All right, pardners! Let’s hit the trail!”

The group moved outside to the western end of the campground. From the pavement they struck off on a path bordered with white pebbles.

Violet held Grandfather’s hand. “Look at the sunset,” she said. “I count five shades of purple.”

“It is spectacular,” Grandfather agreed.

She looked back once, at the trailers and RVs bathed in lavender light. She saw a pale, ghostly face in the window of the silver Airstream.

It was Mr. Tobias. He wouldn’t even leave his trailer to go on a hike. He didn’t seem to like people at all. Why was he so unsociable?

As the sun disappeared over the horizon, Tom talked about the desert.

“As soon as the sun goes down,” he said in a lecturing tone, “small animals come out to feed. It’s too hot during the day, so kangaroo rats and mice sleep. But when they come out, so do their enemies.”

Jessie slipped her arms into her sweater. “What kind of enemies?” she asked him.

“Foxes,” he replied. “Coyotes. Scorpions and gila monsters.”

“Monsters? There are monsters out here?” Benny reached into his pocket and touched his lucky rock.

Luis reassured him. “A gila monster is a large lizard. Don’t worry. It moves very slowly. And it eats insects.”

Mr. Clark asked Tom a question about the various cacti growing beside the trail.

“The saguaro cactus lives to be hundreds of years old,” Tom said knowledgeably. “It grows a branch every twenty years.”

“Twenty years!” Mrs. Clark was impressed.

Henry exchanged a look with Luis. “Didn’t you tell us the saguaro grows an arm every fifty years?”

Luis nodded. “I hate to say it, but Tom is wrong.”

Jessie was wondering why Tom sounded as if he was reading from a textbook. He had dropped his easygoing speech and his tone was stiff.

It was nearly dark when the group stopped at a circle of large, flat stones. In the center was a small, charred pit.

“Gather brush,” Tom ordered everyone. “Soon we’ll have a roaring fire. Then I’ll tell you some tall tales.”

Benny was proud to gather the most brush. “Are you going to start a fire with two sticks?” he asked Tom eagerly.

Tom knelt over the pit. “Takes too long, Benny,” he said. “Besides, there’s no sun to create a spark.” With a lighter, he nervously flicked at the brushpile again and again.

The fire would not catch.

“Can I try?” offered Mr. Garcia. “I’ve had a lot of experience with balky campfires.”

“So have I!” Tom barked. “I’ve lived in Arizona all my life—I know how to start a fire.”

Mr. Garcia backed away, taking a seat next to his wife.

Finally a flame licked over the brush. “Sorry,” Tom said to Mr. Garcia. “I guess the wind wasn’t right.”

“There is no wind,” Violet whispered to Henry as they all found a seat around the fire.

“I know,” Henry said. “It’s perfectly still tonight.”

Tom was definitely acting strangely.

“How about a story?” asked one of the other campers.

“Do you know one?” Tom joked. But he seemed distracted, as if he couldn’t think of a story of tell.

Benny raised his hand and waved it. “Tom, tell us about the Lost Dutchman’s mine.” That was a story they would all enjoy.

In the leaping firelight, Tom’s face twisted. “I don’t know that story, Benny. Maybe you could share it with us.”

Jessie’s jaw dropped. A native Arizonan like Tom didn’t know the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s mine?

Grandfather came to the rescue. He told a long, funny tale that made everyone laugh.

Benny was tired from that morning’s long ride in the hills. He leaned against Jessie’s shoulder and dozed off.

Henry, who was sitting next to Violet, gently nudged her.

“Look out there,” he whispered. “Do you see anything strange?”

Violet stared beyond the fire. The last light of the day silhouetted cacti and rocks on the ridge. Then she saw it, an armless saguaro. Or was it a man?

“That cactus,” she whispered back. “It looks like a person!”

“I wonder if it’s the prowler,” Henry said. “Watching us. Two of our suspects are right here, Mr. Clark and Tom. That leaves Mr. Tobias.”

“And Janine,” Violet said, reminding him the mysterious stranger could be a woman. “Maybe it’s just a person-shaped cactus.”

“You could be right. The night plays tricks on our eyes.” But the more Henry stared at the “cactus,” the more he was certain it was human.

Across the circle, Mr. Clark let out a big yawn. “Well, I think it’s about time to head on back to the bunkhouse.”

“I agree,” said Grandfather. “We all have another busy day tomorrow.”

Very busy, thought Jessie. Time was running out. They would have to find Jake.

Mrs. Clark came over. “Oh, your little brother fell asleep. He’s so cute. Here, let me help you with him.”

“That’s okay,” Jessie said, shaking Benny awake. “We’re fine.”

But Mrs. Clark insisted on taking Benny’s arm and helping him to his feet.

After a while, the cool desert air woke Benny up completely. He reached into his pocket to touch his lucky rock.

The pocket was empty.

“My rock!” he exclaimed. “I can’t find it!”

“Not your lucky rock?” Jessie cried. “Oh, Benny!”

Benny turned all his pockets inside out. “It’s missing!”

“You mean that shiny rock?” said Mrs. Clark. “Oh, it’s probably back at the trailer. Or the restaurant. You could have left it anywhere.”

“No, I didn’t,” Benny insisted. “I put it in my pocket before we left for the hike. And now it’s gone!”

It was too dark to search the area. Grandfather and the others were waiting for him.

Benny slipped his hand nervously into Jessie’s. He didn’t trust Mrs. Clark.

When he first showed her his gold rock, she had eyed it enviously. It was obvious she liked pretty things from all the shiny jewelry she wore.

Could Mrs. Clark have stolen his lucky rock?

“One more day,” Grandfather announced at breakfast the next morning. “Gerald and I have only one more day of work, then his cabin will be finished. We’ll spend tomorrow relaxing, and then we’ll head back home Saturday.”

Henry and Jessie looked at each other. One more day. That’s all they had to find Jake.

A beep outside indicated Gerald was there to pick up Grandfather. He left in the battered orange Jeep.

The restaurant wasn’t very busy this morning. Mr. Tobias was never at breakfast, and the Clarks, sitting at their regular table, seemed unusually quiet. Jessie noticed that Mrs. Clark wasn’t wearing any of her flashy jewelry. Mr. Clark looked as if he hadn’t slept.

Even more odd, Tom didn’t come in to greet the guests.

“He’d better be fixing the pool filter,” Janine said, when Henry asked about Tom. “I’ve been after him over a week.”