The blue-stone mystery (2 page)

"A month, sir," Chip answered, backing off a bit.

"Well, well! A nice, long visit. Plenty of time to look for that lost mine." Chip almost stumbled as Mr. Crowe's big hand slapped his shoulder.

"Chip was wondering about that," Mrs. Trainor said in her gentle way. "We couldn't help overhearing you mention it a while ago."

"Well, ma'am," the huge man grinned, showing a bright gold filling in one front tooth. "You really ought to ask Mr. Brownlee about it. He's the one that found the piece of ore."

"Oh, no," Mr. Brownlee objected in a rather squeaky voice. "My wife found this one. Turquoise it is, too. See?"

Mr. Crowe's Story

He brought a rock from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Trainor.

"That's turquoise, all right," Chip's father agreed. "I saw a lot of it when I was in Albuquerque during the war. I know what it looks like. But what makes you think it came from a lost mine?' He handed the ore to his wife, who glanced at it and then passed it on to Chip.

Chip and Karen bent over the rock, examining it closely while they listened to the conversation. The ore specimen was a creamy shade and porous. Brownish-yellow streaks stained the surface, and the whole middle part was a chalky, light blue. "That's the turquoise," explained their father, touching the blue section.

"It was the second or third day we were here . . . three weeks ago, I guess," Mr. Brownlee said, looking questioningly at his wife. At her nod, he went on. "Mr. Crowe had been in Santa Fe for the day. After supper he told us about something interesting that had happened in town. Why don't you tell it again. Josh?"

"By jingo, I will," Mr. Crowe slapped his leg so loudly that Chip and Karen jumped. "It was in the hotel lobby. I was sitting in a chair reading the paper

The Blue-Stone Mystery

when I heard these two men on the sofa behind me. They were almost whispering — talking about a lost turquoise mine that they had been trying to find — and they were looking at some sort of map. One of 'em said, 'Guess we've been digging in the wrong place all the time. But now we have the directions straight, we ought to have better luck.' Then they got up and walked out.

"After they left, I happened to notice an old, brown-edged paper on the couch where they had been sitting. I picked it up and opened it carefully. It was torn along the creases from being folded so often. Darned if it wasn't the map they had been studying! I guess one of them thought he was putting it in his pocket, but it fell on the cushion instead.

"Going to the desk, I asked the hotel clerk about them. He said, 'They're strangers to me. They're not staying here.' So I went outside, but I didn't see the men anywhere. Thinking it wouldn't hurt to examine that paper myself, I took it to the car, where I could take my time."

"Gee!" Chip exclaimed. "Do you have the map now? Could I see it? I've always wanted to see a treasure map."

Mr. Crowes Story

"I wish I did have it, Sonny." Mr. Crowe looked very sad. "Maybe you won t beheve the rest of the story, but FU tell it to you, anyway. I studied that map for quite a while. All the names were in Spanish, and it was hard to remember what some of them meant. By comparing it with a modern road map, I got the names of mountains and rivers. Finally, I figured I knew just about where the mine was. Then it happened! I put the old map on the dashboard while I leaned back to light a cigar. Just then a big wind, a regular dust-devil, whirled by and blew the paper clean out of the window and over a wall. Jumping out of the car, I reached the wall in time to see that map land right on top of a pile of burning trash and go up in smoke. I was mighty upset, believe me!"

"Oh, dear," Karen sighed. Even Clover looked distressed.

But Chip's father, poHtely skeptical, said, "What a tragic end to the story!" and winked at his wife.

"But that wasrit the end!" Mr. Brownlee squeaked. "Mr. Crowe came back and told us all about it. He thinks the mine might be in a canyon north of this very ranch. The map showed an X close to a spring,

The Blue-Stone Mystery

and there's a place near here that matches the map. We agreed we'd all search for the lost mine — just for fun, of course — and, if anyone happened to find it, he would go fifty-fifty with Josh."

"Where did this come from?" Mr. Trainor asked, taking the ore from Chip and tossing it in his hand. "Did you really discover the lost vein of turquoise, Mrs. Brownlee?"

"I thought so at first," the small, nervous woman said breathlessly. "But that's the only piece I could find. It was on the ground by a little pool in the second canyon over from here. A day or two after I found this, Mr. Brownlee found another piece — a smaller one — not far away. So we think the mine itself is nearby."

"Well, I hope for your sake you're lucky, Mrs. Brownlee. But my vacation plans don't include a wild-goose chase," Mr. Trainor said, handing the ore to the baldheaded man.

A sharp note came into Josh Crowe's deep voice. "What are you planning on doing?" he asked.

"Fishing, mostly. There are some very good trout streams and small lakes up in those mountains to the north, I'm told. I'm eager to try them out, since I

Mr. Crowe's Story

don*t get to do much trout fishing back in Chicago/'

"How about the kids?" Mr. Crowe questioned.

Mr. Trainor looked a Uttle surprised, and said coolly, '1 expect they'll find plenty to do around here. Mr. Allen s promised them a couple of ponies to ride. Which reminds me, youngsters — let's find Mr. Allen now. Good-bye, folks. Good hunting. Come along. Clover."

The Trainors went out to the front porch and started down the steps, laughing as Clover came scrambling after them headfirst. As they reached the ground, Mr. Allen walked around a corner of the lodge.

"There you are," he called. "Want to go to the stables now? I have to go there, any^way, to talk to Jose, the wrangler."

A wide trail led to the stables. It bordered a swift, tumbling stream with grassy banks. Wild iris and columbine made lovely spots of blue, white, lavender, and yellow near the water. Karen laughed with delight when she saw a big bullfrog leap high into the air and splash into a deep pond. Her mother was surprised and pleased by the flashing birds; an iridescent hummingbird, two wicked-looking western

jays jeering at each other, and a speckled woodpecker beating a tattoo on a tall pine. Clover romped about, chasing the brilliant-hued butterflies.

"Do you have this kind of weather all summer?" Mrs. Trainor asked the manager. "It's beautiful and fresh."

"Yes, most of the time. Tm glad you like it, ma'am," Mr. Allen smiled. "We get a severe storm now and then, but usually it doesn't last long. I ought to know better than to say that, though. Every time I brag to a visitor, we get a three-day rain."

Mr. Crowe's Story

Chip and Karen, who had been capering with Clover ahead of the others, slowed down until the adults caught up with them.

"Mr. Allen, may I ask you something, sir?" Chip questioned.

*Tire away, young fella," the good-natured westerner ordered.

"Is there really a lost mine around here?" Chip's face was hopeful.

Mr. Allen threw back his head and laughed. "YouVe been listening to Josh Crow, I can tell. You know. Chip, people are funny. They'll work lots harder to get something for nothing than they will to make an honest dollar."

"The whole story sounded fishy to me," Chip's father put in. He narrowed his bright blue eyes. "If there really were a mine, wouldn't he try to find it himself without letting everyone else in one the secret? There's something very peculiar about that. He doesn't strike me as the generous type at all."

Mr. Allen glanced quickly at Mr. Trainor and nodded in agreement. "Yes, you've put your finger on it. But I haven't been able to find the catch. And, in the meantime, it keeps my guests busy and out of

The Blue-Stone Mystery

my way. Heaven knows my partner and I have enough to worry about right now." He shrugged his wide shoulders. "So why should I complain?"

**But the map!" Chip exclaimed. "How about that?"

"Chip, I don t really know," Mr. Allen answered kindly. "I didn't see the map, but I won't swear that there wasn't one. And there isn't a range of mountains anywhere in the country that doesn't have a few lost mines in it — at least according to the stories. As a matter of fact, all my life I've heard tales about gold and silver — and even turquoise — mines that have been found and lost again right in this area. So don't let me discourage you from looking, if that's what you want to do."

He rested his strong, brown hand for a minute on Chip's thin shoulder. "I want to warn you about one thing, though, and you, too, Karen," he added seriously. "Don't wander around on these trails alone. Once you get away from the ranch, one mesa or mountainside looks much like another unless you know what signs to watch for. Even experienced woodsmen get lost around here. So don't go out by yourself. Okay?"

Mr. Crowes Story

"Yes, sir. We won't," Chip promised.

Karen chimed in with, "I wouldn't want to, anyway. I think the forest is kinda spooky, myself."

The rest of the way to the stables Chip wondered about Josh Crowe and the map and the lost mine. He must be teUing the truth, he thought. Why would a person make up a story like that? Wouldn't it be fun if Chip and Karen could find the mine themselves? He'd have to talk to her about it later. For a girl she had lots of good ideas. Grownups always thought they knew it all, even people as nice as his father and Mr. Allen. He'd love to show them that they could be wrong just once.

* chapter Three

A New Friend

The stables were in a good-sized clearing, together with a barn, a large corral, and an exercise ring. A short heavy-set Indian was saddling a horse when Chip and Karen ran to the bars of the corral. Mr. Allen called, "Jose," and the man walked silently toward the Trainors. The children watched him curiously. He had long, black hair to his shoulders. It

The Blue-Stone Mystery

was braided in two pigtails, with a red strip of cloth wound through each braid. He did not smile when Mr. Allen introduced him to the new ranch guests. His shiny, black eyes flicked quickly from one to the other, and he murmured a polite greeting.

"Buenos dias, senior y senora."

"This is Jose Carvez,'' Mr. Allen said, "the best wrangler in this part of the country. He'll get your horses for you. Jose, can you show these people some of the riding trails around here? Not too difficult, but ones that even the kids here will enjoy." He indicated Chip and Karen.

"Si, Senor Allen. And if I cannot, Pedro is here. I will send him with them."

"Fine, fine. Have him bring four mounts out now. While he's getting them ready, I want to talk to you."

"Si, Senor, Pedro!

A dark-skinned, black-haired Indian boy appeared in the stable doorway. He was shorter than Chip and just as slender. His teeth shone white in his wide grin.

"Yes, Father?" Pedro's dark eyes sparkled as he saw children of his own age.

A New Friend

"Four horses, Pedro. Ponies for the little girl and the boy."

"Yes, Father." Pedro hurried back into the stables.

"Now, Jose, a few words with you. Excuse us, please." Mr. Allen and the wrangler leaned against the fence a short distance away. Chip heard just a few words now and then as they talked.

Mr. Allen said, "... again last night. Twenty head this time ..."

And Jose answered, "... slick hombres . . . like a shadow . . ."

Then, as the manager turned, he said, "Well, keep your eyes and ears open. Anything suspicious, let me know pronto."

"Si, seiior, but they would be miles away by now, no?"

"Fm afraid so." Mr. Allen had a worried frown on his face.

He apologized as he returned to Mr. and Mrs. Trainor. "I'm sorry to be talking business, but we've had some trouble at the summer cattle range higher up the mountain. I thought Jose might have heard something. But I don't want to spoil your fun. Here's Pedro with the horses. I'll see you at the lodge later."

The Blue-Stone Mystery

The Indian boy had brought out a big, black horse for Mr. Trainor, a smaller brown mare for Mrs. Trainor, and two pinto ponies for Chip and Karen. Chip snapped Clover's leash to her collar and tied the other end to the fence post, so she would not bother the horses by barking and snapping at their heels.