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Authors: Gertrude Chandler Warner

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BOOK: The Mystery of the Lost Village
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“Benny,” Jessie interrupted. “I can't carry all these drinks by myself.”

“Where did you find the bone? The same place you were digging the other day?”

Benny opened his mouth to answer when Jessie said,
“Benny!”

“Okay, okay,” he said, picking up the tray. He couldn't understand why Ms. Neville was so interested in a dumb old dog bone. “That's right. I found it in the forest,” he said over his shoulder to Ms. Neville.

She started to follow Jessie and Benny back to their seats, and then changed her mind. Throwing a dollar bill on the counter, she hurried out of the store.

“She sure was interested in that bone,” Benny said when they sat down.

“I wish we could find out what happened to my bowl,” Violet said. “It was so pretty, with the bird on one side, and the snake on the other.”

“By the way,” Jessie said. “Why are there so many snakes on Indian pottery?”

Amy looked up from her lemonade. “That's because snakes, or serpents, have a special meaning for us.”

“I understand why you like birds,” Violet said. “But why snakes?”

“We respect them both.” Amy looked around the table at her friends. “Birds can soar high into the sky, but snakes are powerful, too. They can shed their skin. Now that's a real mystery!”

“I never thought of it that way,” Violet told her.

“Can we stop at the stables on the way home?” Jessie asked. “I'd like to see Thunder again.”

“Sure,” Amy agreed.

When they stepped outside Cranston's, they spotted Ted Clark, chatting with one of the elders of the tribe.

“Hi, kids,” he greeted them. To their surprise, he fell into step with them as they headed to the stables. “I've been doing some research,” he said, patting a thick manila folder under his arm.

“What have you learned?” Amy asked.

“Well, I've come across something interesting,” he told her. “Did you know that some tribes use a stone to mark buried treasure?”

Amy looked doubtful. “You don't have to be a Navajo to use a stone as a marker.”

“Oh, but this isn't an ordinary stone.” Ted Clark lowered his voice as if he were telling an important secret. “It's a special stone. It's shaped like a triangle and glows in the dark.”

“I've never heard of that,” Joe spoke up. “And Kinowok talks about Indian customs all the time.”

“It's true,” Ted Clark insisted. “Maybe not many people know about it, but it's true.”

He said good-bye at the end of the street, and the children headed for the stables. As they rounded the corner, Violet caught a glimpse of Rita Neville. She had been walking behind them the whole time! Was she spying on them?

“Amy,” Violet asked when they were inside the stable, “do you believe what Ted said about the stone that glows in the dark?”

Amy shrugged. “I never heard of it before, but it could be true, I guess.” She greeted Thunder, who whinnied softly when he saw them.

“If we could find a stone like that at the dig, it would save us a lot of time.” Jessie paused. “We could go look for it tonight.”

Meanwhile, the boys refilled Thunder's trough with fresh hay. “So what did you think about the glowing-rock story?” Joe asked.

“I think he made it up,” Henry said flatly.

“Me, too,” Benny chimed in. “Why would a rock glow in the dark?”

Violet and Amy exchanged a look, and then Amy leaned close to whisper in Amy's ear. “If we go, let's go without the boys. Just us girls.”

CHAPTER 6

A Close Call

“T
his is creepy,” Violet said. “And I'm freezing.”

“I told you to wear a sweater,” Jessie muttered. “The nights get chilly here.”

It was midnight and the two sisters were headed for the dig with Amy. Amy swung her flashlight in a zigzag motion to light the way, but the girls still stumbled over stones and fallen tree branches.

The forest looked different at night, Violet thought. Everything was hidden in shadows and strange shapes seemed to hide in the darkness.

Suddenly there was a flutter of wings around her head, and a screeching noise pierced the stillness. “Oh no!” Violet cried, and clutched Jessie's arm. “What was that?”

Amy giggled. “Just a hoot owl, silly.” She was feeling a little uneasy herself, but didn't want to show it. She picked her way carefully around a tree stump, and then froze. She heard a twig snap and then another. Someone was walking in the forest with them!

“Shhh.” She put her finger to her lips and turned off the flashlight.

“What is it?” Violet whispered.

“Someone's nearby.”

Jessie gulped. “Where?” She peered around her, but everything was pitch-black.

“Ahead of us on the path, I think.” Amy darted into the shadows and pulled her friends after her. “If we walk fast, we can circle around and come up beside them. But we'll have to be very quiet. Can you do that?” She looked at Violet, whose teeth were chattering.

“I'll try,” Violet promised.

The three girls moved swiftly through the forest, with Amy in the lead. Suddenly she came to a dead stop and started to laugh.

“What in the world — ” Jessie began. Amy swung the flashlight in a wide arc, catching Henry, Joe, and Benny silhouetted against the trees. Henry blinked in the light, and then shook his head in disbelief.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, rushing over to the girls.

“What are
you
doing here?” Jessie retorted.

“We're trailing Michael Running Deer,” Joe said, moving in closer to them.

“Michael Running Deer!” Jessie was surprised. “You mean, he's prowling around the forest, too?”

“That's right, and we want to find out why,” Henry said. “Joe noticed him crossing the field toward the dig, and we jumped out of bed to follow him.”

Violet looked at Benny. He had thrown a flannel jacket over his pajamas, and was wearing slippers.

“Well, we're looking for a rock that glows in the dark,” Jessie said.

“I don't believe that story. But I think we've lost Michael Running Deer now,” Henry told her. “We can still check the dig, just in case.” He turned up his collar against the cold night air. “Be as quiet as you can.”

For the next few minutes, the children carefully picked their way through the forest. Violet felt as though she were walking on eggshells, and Benny shuffled behind her in his slippers.

“It's no use,” Joe said when they arrived at the edge of the dig. “He's gone.”

“Look over there!” Jessie's voice was strained. “There's a light under that tree!” She jabbed her finger at a spot several yards away.

Everyone turned to look, and Jessie said softly, “It's not a light exactly, is it? It looks more like … something glowing.”

“A glowing rock!” Violet was excited. “Just like the one Ted Clark told us about! He said it's a sign that there's buried treasure underneath.”

“Let's go see — ” Benny began, and then froze at an eerie sound whistling through the trees. “What's that?” he asked, clutching Violet's hand.

“I don't know,” Violet said in a shaky voice.

“Ooooooh
…
oooh.
” The low moan seemed to echo through the trees.

“Could it be an animal?” Jessie asked, drawing close to Amy.

“I don't think so,” Amy answered. “I know the sounds of all the animals that live in this forest, and I've never heard anything like it.” The sound seemed to circle them, sometimes loud, sometimes soft, just out of reach.

“We have to get out of here,” Henry said firmly. “Right now.”

“But what about the rock?” Joe protested.

“It will still be there tomorrow. Let's go.” Amy was already making her way back through the forest, swinging her flashlight for the others. The noise stopped once they had reached the edge of the forest, and then the children broke into a dead run.

Once they reached the Lightfeather house, everyone headed for bed. “That was a close call,” Violet said, tucking the Navajo blanket around her. “What do you think was making that noise?” she asked Amy.

Amy shook her head. “A person,” she said, her voice serious. She was sitting up in bed, with her knees drawn up to her chest. “It was definitely a warning. Someone doesn't want us around the dig.”

The next afternoon, Jessie went to the general store to mail a letter to Grandfather. She decided to stop by the stables on her way back to the Lightfeathers', and was surprised to see Rita Neville leading a sleek pinto horse out of the stable door.

“Be sure to keep a tight rein on Skywalker,” Ed, the stable boy, was saying to her. “He loves to gallop, and if you're not careful, you'll find yourself flying.”

“I'll remember that,” Rita said, swinging herself up into the saddle. “I'll only be gone a couple of hours. I want to take a look at the mountains.”

She spotted Jessie and gave a curt nod. Then she made a clucking noise, and the horse broke into a slow trot.

Jessie was heading for Thunder's stall, when she noticed a leather drawstring purse lying on the floor. Ed spotted it at the same time. “Darn! She forgot her purse.”

“I'll take it to her,” Jessie said quickly. She grabbed the purse and dashed out the door. Rita Neville was ambling down the trail behind the stables, and Jessie broke into a run, calling her name.

Ms. Neville reined in Skywalker, and headed back toward Jessie. “What is it?” she asked irritably, and then saw what Jessie was carrying. “Give me that!” She dug her heels into Skywalker's flanks, and he galloped to Jessie's side.

Why is she so angry? Jessie wondered. She started to lift the purse to Ms. Neville and then suddenly realized that the drawstring had come undone. A lipstick was lying on the ground, along with some loose change.

“Gosh, I'm sorry,” Jessie said. When she bent down to retrieve the lipstick, Rita Neville dismounted in a cold fury.

“I said give it to me!” she repeated. She snatched the bag out of Jessie's hand and swung herself back into the saddle.

“Here's the lipstick and the coins,” Jessie said.

Ms. Neville put out her hand, dropped the items into her purse, and angrily swung the reins. Skywalker obediently turned and headed away from Jessie, toward the mountains.

“She didn't even say thanks,” Jessie muttered to herself. She started to walk toward the stable when she noticed a small glass bottle lying on the ground. Jessie picked it up and saw that it was nail polish. It had obviously fallen out of Ms. Neville's purse. After taking a quick look at Thunder, who was happily munching hay in his stall, Jessie decided to walk by the motel. She could return the nail polish and still be back at the Lightfeathers' by dinnertime.

At Morton's Motel, Jessie was disappointed that no one was on duty in the office. She was trying to decide what to do next, when a maid appeared with a pile of fresh towels.

“Just leave it outside her door,” the maid suggested, when Jessie explained the problem. “She's staying in number twelve, the third door on the right.”

“Thanks.” When Jessie found room number twelve, she bent down to leave the nail polish on the door mat. Suddenly she realized that Ms. Neville's door was ajar. Inside, she could see Ted Clark looking in the closet. She drew back, shocked. He must have broken in! What was he looking for? Jessie quickly ducked out of sight and crept away.

After dinner that night, Jessie joined the rest of the children at the dining-room table and told them about her adventure. Benny was putting the finishing touches on his beadwork, and Henry was polishing silver belt buckles.

“I was so startled, I forgot to leave the nail polish,” Jessie said at the end of the story. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out the small glass bottle. “That's funny,” she said, turning it over in her hand. “I just realized it's empty.”

“Why would someone carry around an empty bottle of nail polish?” Amy asked.

“It doesn't make sense,” Violet said.

“Something else is funny,” Jessie said. “Remember that key ring we found in the forest? Maybe the ‘M' was for Morton's Motel!”

Henry looked up from his polishing. “So Rita Neville is definitely a suspect. She might be the one who's causing us so much trouble at the dig.”

“But why?” Violet asked. “Why would a television producer want to interfere with what we're doing?”

“Maybe she's
not
a television producer,” Jessie offered. “We only have her word for it. And she really acted strangely today.”

“You know, we have quite a list of suspects,” Amy said. “Ted Clark pretends he's part Navajo, but he knows nothing about our culture. He didn't even recognize turquoise.”

“And he's not much of a genealogist. He didn't even know that Navajo tribes live in the Southwest,” Joe added. “And what about Michael Running Deer? He's always snooping around the forest.”

BOOK: The Mystery of the Lost Village
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