The Legend of Miner's Creek (7 page)

“I think someone who believes the story of Jeremiah Benner's mine is hunting for gold here and trying to sabotage the land sale,” Nancy said. “Someone doesn't want the gold protected in a park.” She sat up on the edge of her hammock. “Rachel, are there any papers or letters from Jeremiah and Cyrus's prospecting days that aren't up on the wall?” Nancy asked. “Anything besides what we've already seen?”

“Well, there are some things left in a box in
Granddad's desk,” Rachel said, twisting the end of her ponytail thoughtfully. “He just put the best stuff up for guests to see.”

“Maybe we could find another clue if we looked at the box,” Nancy said.

The girls followed Rachel back to the lodge. She pulled a cardboard box from a drawer of the large rolltop desk, and the four of them settled down on the hearth of the giant fireplace to sort through old deeds, marriage licenses, and letters. One slightly blurry picture showed Jeremiah and Cyrus together.

“Granddad said that was taken when they first became partners,” Rachel said. “Too bad it's not a better picture.”

Nancy could just make out the twin white rocks each man held. She guessed they were the two pieces of quartz ore that Jeremiah had brought out of the mountain on the day he'd found the mine.

“Do you see anything that will help?” Rachel asked, after nearly an hour of searching.

“I'm afraid not,” Nancy said, shaking her head. “It seems like we have lots of information, but not many solid clues.”

“I hope you won't give up,” Rachel said.

“Don't worry about that,” said Bess with a grin. “Nancy never gives up on a mystery.”

The girls carefully placed the papers and photographs back in the box while Rachel went to help Elsa fix dinner. Soon they were all seated around the long table, listening to B.D.'s lively stories about
wild plane rides and old fur traders. He was a natural storyteller, and he made dramatic gestures with his hands as he talked. A good actor, Nancy thought.

“It's nice you could stay for dinner,” Charlie said to B.D. “With all the problems we've been having lately, good friends make especially good company.”

The Kauffmans seemed to be enjoying B.D.'s stories as well, especially little Aaron. He was busily making airplane noises over his plate.

The honeymooning Smythes, Nancy noticed, seemed to be more interested in each other than in B.D.'s wild stories.

“Are you coming with us to Prospector's Canyon?” Aaron asked B.D. “We're going to find a lost gold mine.”

“What time?” B.D. asked.

“Ten o'clock sharp,” Rachel said. “I'm playing guide.”

“I'm afraid I have to work,” B.D. said. “But my guess is you'll be disappointed about the gold, anyway. The only gold up there is fool's gold.”

Nancy thought it was rude of B.D. to ruin Aaron's hopes so needlessly, especially since B.D. himself was such a good storyteller. But she said nothing, and Aaron seemed not to notice as he continued to make airplane sounds.

After dinner B.D. excused himself, ruffled Aaron's hair playfully, and started for the door.

“I'm going to go get a sweater from the cabin,” Nancy said.

“I'll come with you,” George said. They accompanied B.D. to the door.

“That was quite a plane ride you gave us the other day,” Nancy said casually. “Was it as rough when you flew Tyler in later that evening?”

B.D. hesitated, as though trying to remember.

“Tyler came the night before,” B.D. said finally. “His flight was smooth as silk.”

“But he didn't arrive here at the retreat until the next night,” Nancy said, frowning.

“He stayed in town a day, I believe,” B.D. said. “I offered to drive him to the retreat, but he said he was staying over and would rent a car.”

Nancy's eyes widened as B.D. said good night and walked to his pickup truck.

“Tyler lied,” Nancy said to George as B.D. started his pickup. “He was in town the morning of the fire.”

George followed Nancy back into the lodge, where the other guests were still talking around the big table.

“You know, I think I'll skip the sweater and just go back to the cabin to get some rest,” Nancy told everyone. “After all that's happened today, I'm beat.”

Rachel was telling the group about a pair of red-tailed hawks nesting on the other side of the meadow. Bess looked up from a cup of steaming tea. Nancy had a feeling her friend wasn't ready to budge from her comfortable chair.

“I guess we'll
all
need our rest for the ride up Miner's Creek tomorrow,” she said, hoping Bess would realize that she wanted to talk.

“Nancy's right,” George said quickly. “I think I'll turn in, too. Coming, Bess?”

Bess took one last longing look at her sweet-smelling tea and agreed that it was time for bed.

The three filed out of the lodge and headed back to their cabin.

“Okay, what's up?” Bess asked when the door was finally closed.

“Tyler lied,” Nancy said. “B.D. said Tyler flew into town the day
before
we did. That means Tyler was here when the fire started.”

“And he was the one with the book on gold prospecting,” George said, flopping down on her bunk. “Do you think he's trying to find the gold for himself?”

“He's certainly moving up on our list of suspects,” Nancy said.

“But is there really any gold?” Bess asked, throwing up her hands. “Tyler isn't the only one who says the story about Jeremiah's mine is a hoax. Charlie and B.D. think the same thing.”

“But Tyler could be lying to cover up his real interest,” Nancy said.

“Well, if there
is
a gold mine, why wouldn't it have been found after all these years?” George asked.

“It could be underground,” Nancy said slowly. “According to that book Tyler loaned me, the quartz and gold were left here by ancient volcanoes.” She picked up the book and flipped through the pages. “ ‘Sometimes the gold is visible in long veins that can be followed along a hillside,' ” Nancy read. “ ‘But gold can also be found in pockets, many
of them underground. Some pockets are the size of a fist. Others are the size of a large room.' ” She stopped at a page in the book that showed a diagram of a mountain and the placement of gold pockets. She handed the open book to George.

“But how would Jeremiah have found the gold in the first place?” Bess asked.

“Mostly luck,” Nancy said. “But also some detective work. Pocket miners searched for pieces of gold ore on the ground and made a mark on a map for every spot where they found it. That way, by connecting the dots, they could start to form a trail of gold ore.”

“So the pocket of gold was at the end of the trail,” George said, looking at the diagram.

“Yes, if they were lucky enough to find it,” Nancy said. “Like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, I guess.”

“Maybe we could use the same method to find the gold ourselves,” George suggested.

Nancy shook her head. “That would take months, or even years. Besides, if Jeremiah picked up the pieces of ore, there wouldn't be a trail for us to follow,” she said.

“Oh, well,” George said with a shrug. “The ride up Miner's Creek tomorrow should be interesting, anyway. Who knows, we might get lucky, too.”

“Right,” Nancy said. “And there's one other thing I want to do in the morning. Remember that second offer that Charlie got for his land?”

“You mean from the preservation group?”
George asked. She closed the book and set it back on the nightstand.

“Yes. I want to get some background on them,” Nancy said. “And while I do that, you two can check on the other guests and Elsa Parker. We might as well see who has alibis for all of these incidents.”

“I guess you were right when you said we'd need to be rested for tomorrow,” Bess said, as she pulled on pajamas. “With all the investigating we've got planned, we'd better get to sleep.”

“Agreed,” George said. “That bunk is looking pretty good to me.”

Bess and George fell asleep quickly. Nancy tried, without success, to guess who was out to destroy the retreat. But there were too many possible culprits, and she finally dozed off.

• • •

When morning came, Nancy, Bess, and George headed over to the lodge for breakfast. They had agreed that Bess would wait there for the Smythes, and George would try to link up with the Kauffmans when they came in for breakfast. George would talk to Elsa, too.

“Could you use some help in here? I'd love to see firsthand where that wonderful smell is coming from,” George said cheerfully as she stuck her head into the kitchen.

Rachel accepted her offer before Elsa had a chance to object.

Nancy and Bess ate jam-filled Danish pastries and
finished several glasses of orange juice, which George served with a wink.

“I think George is enjoying her detective work,” Bess whispered to Nancy.

“It looks as if you're about to get your turn,” Nancy said to Bess as the Smythes walked in the front door of the lodge.

“I'm thinking of taking a walk later,” Bess said to Todd and Beth after they had joined the girls at the table. “I have no idea what part of the retreat is best. Do you know a good place to go?” Her friendly show of interest got her an instant invitation from Beth to hear about all of their adventures at Highland Retreat.

Nancy finished her pastry and asked Rachel if she could use the phone in Charlie's office while he was doing errands in town. She pulled the preservation group's letter from her pocket and tried the number printed at the top.

“You've reached the Nature Preservation League,” said a man's voice at the other end. Nancy knew immediately that it was a recording, and not a very clear one at that.

“Please leave your name, phone number, and the nature of your business,” the voice said.

Nancy hung up quickly and called directory assistance. When she put the receiver down a minute later, her curiosity had been raised. There was no listing for the Nature Preservation League.

Nancy took a few moments to gather her thoughts, then dialed the number on the letterhead
a second time. She waited for the beep at the end of the recorded message.

“I'd like to make a rather large donation to your very important cause,” Nancy said into the phone. She knew that if the league was legitimate, they would be eager to talk to her. “Please call me to discuss the details.”

She gave the phone number of her father's office in River Heights, and then quickly called Garson Drew himself.

“Nancy! How are you? And how are Charlie and Rachel?” her father asked when he heard her voice.

“They're having some problems with the sale, I'm afraid,” Nancy told him. “That's why I called. I need your help with something.”

“Am I getting in on a mystery?” Carson asked with a chuckle.

“Yes, but you'll have to wait for all the details,” Nancy said. She told him quickly about the Nature Preservation League and her phone call to them.

“I need to know right away if they return my call,” she said. “Oh, and Dad, do you know a Senator John P. Callihan, or his aide, Tyler Nelson?”

“Sorry, I'm no help there. Washington State is a long way from River Heights,” Carson said. “I suppose you want me to check on them, too.”

“Thanks, Dad. You're the best.” Nancy said goodbye and hung up the phone. Then she replaced
the preservation group's letter in the desk. She was deep in thought when George tapped on the door and stepped into Charlie's office.

“Elsa said she was in the kitchen all day yesterday,” George told Nancy in a low voice. “And I believe her. She made those rolls from scratch. Plus three blueberry pies for dinner tonight, and homemade croutons for the salad.”

“You're right. That probably wouldn't leave Elsa much time to rig a jeep or blow up a dam,” Nancy said. “What about the Kauffmans?”

“They went into town after their early breakfast,” George reported. “Aaron told me they got back just in time to hear ‘the big boom.' ” George used her hands to show how Aaron had described the sound of the dam blowing up.

“That seems to leave them in the clear,” Nancy said. “I wonder what Bess found out.”

As if on cue, Bess walked through the front door of the lodge. She pulled up a chair beside Nancy and George and began to rub her legs.

“Todd and Beth are in awfully good shape,” she said. “I would have been better off helping in the kitchen than trying to keep up with them.”

Bess reported that she had invited herself on the Smythes' morning jog through the meadow, but she had made only one short loop before giving up.

“I did see the hawk's nest that Rachel told us about at dinner last night,” she explained. “Apparently Rachel had told Todd and Beth about it
yesterday morning. They watched the nest all day. They even showed me the small blind they built so the mother hawk couldn't see them.”

“It sounds as if we've narrowed down our list of suspects,” Nancy said. “And I've got a call in to the Nature Preservation League.”

She told Bess and George about her phone calls to the league and to her father, finishing up just as the retreat's big triangle gong sounded.

“That's the signal for our ride up Miner's Creek,” George said.

The three girls walked to the barn, where they found a group of horses saddled and waiting. Rachel had just finished tying saddlebags full of lunches on her big brown mare. She directed Nancy toward a palomino named Heather. George took the reins of a black-and-white pinto, and Bess climbed aboard a calm, all-black mount.

Todd and Beth Smythe were already sitting on matching bays. Pete helped Shirley and Frank Kauffman onto their horses, then slid Aaron onto a gentle pony that he guaranteed was “a hundred percent safe.”