The blue-stone mystery (6 page)

A Discovery

the Double O — you know, the ones the rustlers took. The Indians do not keep cattle on this land. Hmmm ... no wonder we could not figure out where they went. This canyon goes up almost to The Bowl. It would be easy to run stock down here from the grazing range. So the cattle didnt get trucked out as everyone thought!'*

"But Mr. Crowe — ?" Chip hesitated. He was having a hard time understanding this new development.

"Seiior Crowe is a rustler, that is what he is," Pedro said angrily. "We must hurry back and tell Mr. Allen that the stolen steers are here."

"But, Pedro," Chip persisted. "Where is the mme.f^

"What I would like to know," Pedro asked, instead, "is where is the other man?"

A hand reached down and grabbed each boy firmly by the collar. As they gasped in surprise and fear, the nasal voice said grimly, "He's right here!"

chapter Seven

Prisoners

Chip shifted back and forth, trying to get more comfortable on the rough ground. Thin ropes cut his wrists and ankles. By twisting his head and stretching his arms, he could see the dial of his wrist watch. Eleven o'clock! He could hardly believe that just two hours ago he had been playing safely in the stable at the Double O. He glanced at

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Pedro, who sat against a tree ten feet away. His feet, like Chip's, were tied together with one end of a lariat. The other end was fastened to a tree limb high above the boys' reach. Now if this were like some of the stories he had read. Chip thought, he would be able to untie his hands, or slip them loose, or cut the rope on a piece of broken glass. But it wasn't like that at all. Twisting and pulling only made his wrists and fingers sore and the bonds tighter. As for glass, there was none in sight.

He shivered as he wondered what the men would do to them. "Wasn't Mr. Crowe mad? Boy, I don't think I ever saw anybody as mad as he was when Rip dragged us down the path," he said to Pedro. "What do you suppose they've decided?"

The Indian boy shook his head and shrugged. "Whatever it is, it will be bad for us. One thing sure . . . they can't let us go. They know we would tell about them being rustlers."

Farther down the stream by a smoking campfire, Mr. Crowe, still angry, was saying the same thing to Rip. "We can't turn them loose. They'll blab about the cattle. On the other hand, if they don't show up at the ranch, there'll be searchers all over this side

of the Jemez looking for them. By evening we'd be sure to be discovered, anyway. iVe got to think of a plan to keep everyone so busy for the next few hours that they won't miss the boys — something that will give us a chance to move the steers out of here this afternoon."

"In dayhght?"

Mr. Crowe ignored the question while he sipped thoughtfully at steaming coffee in a tin cup. "Just

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a minute. I think Tm getting it. Listen! What's the one thing in this country that will draw all of the men within miles and keep them so busy they don't have time for anything else — anything else at all?"

As Rip looked blank and rubbed his whiskers, the larger man said impatiently, "A forest fire, stupid! If I set a fire up in the mountains on the other side of the ranch, nobody will be coming over this way to look for lost kids. In fact, they probably won't even realize the kids are missing for a long time."

Rip nodded in admiration. "That's right. I knew you'd think of something."

"After that," Crowe went on, "I'll watch the lodge. When all the men have gone to the fire, I'll call the truck drivers in Santa Fe and tell them to get to the pick-up place as soon as possible. It's only an hour's drive — maybe less. We'll run the cattle down the canyon this afternoon, load, and get out of here as fast as we can. No one will notice a couple of cattle trucks if there's a forest fire near by. You got all the brands changed?"

"Yep. Finished the last ones yesterday."

"Okay, then. I'll be on my way. I've got a lot of

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things to do in the next two hours. Don't let those Idds get away! We'll just leave them here when we leave — the nosy brats! Someone'll find them in the next few days. By then Josh Crowe and the cattle will have disappeared, no matter how hard they look. I may even spend a month or so in Mexico till things blow over. Give me that can of kerosene. It'll kindle a good blaze in a hurry, even if the woods are still wet. Once it's started, it'll take a lot of men to stop it."

The boys were worried. It was impossible to guess what a man like Mr. Crowe might do. Suddenly they saw him toss away the rest of his cofiFee and walk over to his horse. After giving some instructions to Rip, he mounted, slashed at the animal with his whip and rode back up the trail.

Rip came and stood in the open space between the helpless youngsters. He was dirty and rumpled. He hadn't shaved for days. Bristly grey whiskers matched his mussed, stringy, grey hair. He was little and thin, but, as the boys knew, quite strong.

"Why did you kids want to go spying on us?" he asked. "All you make is trouble for everybody."

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"We were only trying to find the lost mine," Chip answered. "The one Mr. Crowe found."

Rip stared at him. "Lost mine! You crazy or something? Ain't no lost mine 'round here that I know of. Boss ain't found no mine." He threw back his head and cackled with laughter. "Mine! That's a joke. Only mine we found is them steers. Gold mine, they are."

"Don't you see, Chip?" Pedro explained. "Sefior Crowe just made up that story about a map and a mine. He wanted to keep people away from this canyon. If they were exploring on the other side of the Double O, they wouldn't accidently find the cattle on this side."

"Oh, sure." Chip nodded. "Sure, I get it." He turned to Rip. "What are you going to do with us?"

"Boss has decided that already. You boys gonna stay here till someone finds you."

"What do you mean?" Chip asked. "You can't just leave us tied up like this. Why, animals would come, or we'd starve. It'd be your fault, too."

Rip looked uncomfortable. "I just do what the boss tells me, that's all."

"I'm thirsty," Pedro said. "At least you could give us some water."

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"Guess that won't hurt none," Rip admitted. He took a battered tin cup down to the stream. Bringing it back, he held it as each boy drank deeply.

"Gotta get some of them strays rounded up now," Rip told them. Turning abruptly, he walked over to his horse. In a few minutes he was shouting and riding back and forth, urging the cattle to bunch up.

"They are going to move the herd," Pedro said in despair. "They must have some way of getting them out of here."

"And there's nothing we can do to stop them," Chip groaned. "Doggone it!"

"We have to get away, somehow," Pedro said. "If only we could think of something!"

Chip sat and stared hopelessly at the canyon wall to one side of him. "I can't think of a thing. My mind's a blank." After a few minutes he asked, just for something to say, "What are those holes in the wall over there?"

Pedro turned his head to look, surprised at the question. "Those? They are just small caves — caves our ancient people lived in."

"All of them?" There were hundreds of dark holes along the base of the wall as far as Chip could see, as well as some higher up the cliflF.

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"Well, most of them. Long ago there were several thousand people living here. Here and in the other canyons near by, and on top of the mesas."

"Oh." Chip lost interest as he thought again of their own predicament.

Pedro, though, eyed the caves with growing excitement. Finally he said, "Maybe I have thought of a way. Listen!" He told Chip his plan.

"I think it's worth trying," Chip said. "It can't make matters much worse than they are already."

Rip came back to the campfire and scattered it around, stamping on the sparks with his old cowboy boots. He swished a coffee pot clean in the stream. Then he rolled it up in his bedroll, which he fastened to the back of his saddle.

Pedro called to him. "Please, would you give us something to eat before you leave?"

Rip hesitated. Then he took an old slab of corn bread and tore it into two portions. "Here," he said, and tossed a piece into each boy's lap.

"How are we supposed to eat it?" Chip asked. "Couldn't you untie us just for a little while?"

"Oh, okay," the Uttle cowboy grumbled. "Nothing else to do but watch the herd for an hour or so, anyway. Don't try no tricks, though."

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He undid the ropes and the boys rubbed their wrists to restore the circulation. The bread was stale and dry, but the boys ate it hungrily. As they did, they talked to each other.

"I sure don t like the idea of being left here," Chip said so that Rip could hear.

"Me, also,'* Pedro agreed. "The animals come down here to drink — the coyote, the cougar, and the bear, too. And no fire to keep them away."

"It gets cold down here, too, I'll bet," Chip added.

"Si. Those caves are much warmer. The rock holds the heat from the sun."

"What do you think the police would do to anyone who left us out like this? Do you suppose they would call it kidnapping?" Chip saw a worried look cross Rip's face. "Please, Rip, couldn't you at least put us in one of the caves over there when you leave? It would be lots safer than here."

"Cricky! I don't care. Don't matter to me. Boss just say leave you — he don't say where. Come on, then. When he gits back, we're gonna be busy moving them steers down to meet the trucks from Santa Fe." Rip clamped his mouth shut, realizing he was talking too much. Then he shrugged. "Oh, well.

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Don't see as how it's gonna hurt for you to know that. Won't be able to tell nobody."

He untied their feet, and when they stood up, he bound their hands behind them again. He prodded them toward the caves. In front of them rose a sort of rock chimney, a large formation standing out from the main face of the cliff, having caves on all three of its sides. It was toward this that Pedro walked, and to one large cave in particular. As they came close to the wall. Rip shoved them in the direction of a smaller opening, but Pedro reeled back.

"Don't! Don't!" he cried. "Not in that big cave! It's haunted!"

Rip had had no intention of putting them in the big cave, but now he was at the end of his patience. "Git in there!" He pushed them through the largest opening into the darkness. He made them sit down while he again tied their ankles. Silhouetted against the bright sunlight, he told them, "I'm gonna have my eyes on this doorway all the time, so don't try nothing. If'n you do, I'll put you back where you was before." Then he turned and left them.

Pedro breathed a sigh of relief. "Bueno! I thought

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for a moment he was going to put us in that other cave."

Chip chuckled. "You even had me fooled with that haunted bit. What made you think of asking him not to put us in the very cave where we wanted to go?"

Pedro grinned. "Don't you remember Bre'r Rabbit begging the fox not to throw him in the briar patch, but the fox did, and Bre'r Rabbit got away?"

"Sure, that's right," Chip laughed. Then he sobered again. "How do we get these ropes off?"

"If we roll back to back and take turns trying to untie each other's hands, we ought to be able to get loose. Here." Pedro rolled over beside Chip.

Fifteen minutes later Pedro succeeded in getting Chip's hands free. Chip rubbed his aching wrists. Then he finished untying Pedro's arms. With tin-ghng fingers, they worked on the ropes binding their ankles. Soon they were up and stamping their feet.

"Gee! It's two o'clock," Chip exclaimed, squinting at his watch. "Where's Rip?"

Pedro stood well back from the doorway in the shadow and looked out. "He is smoking down by the

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stream — by their fireplace. It is good he is so far on that side. Otherwise, my plan would not work. Come on. I will show you why I had to make him put us in this cave. Most of the other caves are just one room. This one is different. I remember playing here a long time ago."

Pedro led the way through a small opening in the back of the cave into another round, dark room; and through that into another one, just as dark. The third room had a tiny opening through which the boys wriggled on their stomachs until they found themselves in an outside cave again.

"See," Pedro said. "This one opens on the side of the rock away from Rip. He doesn't know there is a back door to that big cave. The path goes up right beyond that first clump of trees."

"What if Mr. Crowe comes back down when weVe going up?"

Pedro spread his hands expressively. "We must take that chance. If we stay here, they will find us and tie us up again. Next time they will make sure that we cannot get away."

"Guess that's right," Chip admitted. "Who goes first?"

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"Listen!" Pedro said, turning his head and peering out of the cave. His face showed alarm.

Hoof beats thumped on the path. Mr. Crowe rode into sight, and the boys shrank back against the side wall of the cave in the darkness.