The Legend of Deadman's Mine (6 page)

“Look!” Sean said. He pried up a peanut shell where it had been tramped into the soft ground.

“Here's another shell…and another.” Brian pointed at a scattering of peanut shells.

“I don't think the searchers were following the shells or they wouldn't have stepped on them,” Sean said.

“There's only one way to find out,” Brian said. “Let's go.”

They followed the trail of shells into the forest.

“Here's another one!” Sean called out. “And there's one over here!” Sean chuckled. “I feel like Hansel and Gretel.”

Brian pulled his knife from his pocket. “Hansel and Gretel made a trail, and we'll make one, too. I brought along my compass, but it will be easier to find our way back if we've clearly marked our trail. Give me the string you've got in your pocket.”

Brian cut a six-inch length of the kite string and tied it to the end of a low branch. He cut the rest of the string into pieces and began tying them to branches as they walked deeper and deeper into the woods.

Even with the sun high overhead, the woods were dim, shadowy, and eerily quiet. A soft blanket of pine needles carpeted the ground, but an occasional twig snapped loudly beneath their feet. Now and then Brian and Sean heard strange rustling sounds nearby. But they didn't hear voices or sounds that might be the searchers.

“I don't see any signs that the searchers came this way,” Sean said.

“I don't, either,” Brian told him. “They must have taken a different direction somewhere back there.”

Sean flopped onto the ground. “It's all uphill, and I'm tired,” he said. “Can we rest for a couple of minutes?”

“Sure,” Brian said, and he sat down next to Sean.

A twig snapped. “What was that?” Sean asked, looking behind him into the tangled brush.

“It might have been an animal,” Brian said.

“What kind of animal?” asked Sean. “A mountain lion? A bear?”

“Not this close to the ranches,” Brian said. “What we probably heard was a rabbit or a wood rat, or something like that.”

“Rats?” said Sean. “Yuck! I hate rats!”

Suddenly there was a loud crash, and Sean whirled and screamed as something came bounding out of the brush.

“Bobby!” Sean said, groaning. “I told you to stay at the lodge!”

“I don't have to do what you say,” Bobby said. “You're not my mother. Besides, if you didn't want anyone to follow you, you shouldn't have left a trail.” Bobby grinned and held up a fistful of string.

“Bobby!” Brian complained. “The pieces of string were there to make it easy to find our way back!”

“Oh,” Bobby said. “Well, maybe Woody will help us.”

“Woody?” Brian said. “What does Woody have to do with this?”

“When Mr. Austin went with some of the others to search for Carter, he left Woody in charge. I wanted to help, too, so I told Woody what I heard you say about Carter and that you and Sean were going to go look for him.”

“What did Woody do then?” Brian asked.

Bobby shrugged. “He went into the office and made some phone calls.”

Bobby looked at Brian, then at Sean. “So, where's Carter?” he asked.

T
HE CLIMB WAS STEEP
and very hot, but every now and then Bobby, Sean, and Brian spotted a discarded peanut shell or two, so they kept on.

“How far did Carter go?” Sean grumbled.

“I don't know,” Brian said, wiping his face with his shirtsleeve. “I'm guessing that by now we've left the Austin property and are on the Morrison ranch.”

At that point the trail of peanut shells led upward onto a wide rock ledge edged on one side with a thick tangle of dead branches and underbrush.

“You need a machete to cut through this junk,” Brian complained as they began pushing branches out of the way.

“Just like your room at home,” Sean joked.

“Very funny,” said Brian.

“I see two peanut shells,” Bobby called out, and pointed. “And there's another one farther up.”

Sean started toward Bobby. But suddenly Brian stopped.

“Wait a minute, Sean,” he said. “What would a pile of dead branches be doing on a rock ledge in the middle of a forest?”

Sean shrugged uncomprehendingly. “I guess it was easier than carting the branches to the middle of someplace else,” Sean answered.

“Sean!” Brian said. “Think! Remember what Cookie said about a rock ledge and what Woody said about the brush covering the doorway to the mine?”

Suddenly Sean remembered. He grinned. “Right. And this has got to be the highest peak around here!”

Brian glanced at the sun. “And we're facing south.”

Brian and Sean frantically began pulling away the tangle of branches.

“I knew it!” Brian said when they discovered a wooden doorframe in the wall of the ledge. “It's the entrance to Deadman's Mine! It's real!”

Brian heaved open the door.

“L-look!” Sean shouted.

Bobby let out a yell and grabbed Sean's arm.

“Th-the p-prospector's skeleton!” Sean screamed.

Facing them was a dusty skeleton, its nearly toothless skull grinning a welcome.

“Brian! The prospector's skeleton is here, just like Woody said! This has to be the lost Deadman's Mine! We found it! We really found it!”

“We sure did!” said Brian. “Let's check it out.”

A section of a once shored-up ceiling had collapsed at one side of the large, dug-out space just inside the door, letting in sunlight.

“That's funny,” Brian said as they looked around inside the mine.

“What?” asked Sean.

“This mine was supposed to be abandoned. But everything looks too neat.” Brian pointed. “Look.”

Rotted, fallen timbers had been cleared and piled next to a stack of old boxes and tools.

“You're right,” said Sean. “That is weird.”

“Peeuuu!” said Bobby as he pinched his nose closed. “What's that stink?”

Brian sniffed. So did Sean.

“I know that smell,” Sean said. He and Brian grinned.

“Horses!”

Brian carefully crossed the open space of the mine to where it made a turn to the left. Sean and Bobby followed him closely.

A large black horse, tethered to a wooden post, whinnied as Brian approached.

“You were right, Sean,” said Brian. “A mine was the perfect place to hide a stolen horse.”

The horse's right front ankle was tightly wrapped, and it favored that leg, limping a little as it nervously backed away from Brian.

“Nightstar!” Brian said, instantly recognizing him from the photos in Mrs. Austin's book.

Sean stared at the horse. “Excellent,” he said. “But what do we do now? Try to return the horse or keep looking for Carter?”

“I want to check something,” Brian said. He pulled his notebook and pen from his pocket and handed them to Sean. “I'm going to give you a number. Write it down.”

Sean took them and watched Brian slowly approach the horse. “What are you going to do?”

“Look inside his lower lip for an identification number that's tattooed there.”

“Yikes! What if he bites?”

Brian had wondered the same thing, but he hoped that horses were like dogs and behaved well with people who didn't seem afraid of them. He gently stroked the horse's neck and nose while he murmured, “Good boy, Nightstar. I won't hurt you.”

He pulled down the horse's lower lip and read the number to Sean. Nightstar whinnied and pulled away, and Brian jumped back quickly, afraid the horse might step on his feet.

“Sean!” he said suddenly, looking at his hands. He showed them to Sean. Both palms were smeared with black dye. “Do you know what this means?”

But Bobby interrupted by whimpering, “I don't like it in here, you guys. Let's go back to the ranch.”

Just then a couple of loose stones rolled down from the entrance to the mine. Then came a spine-chilling wail.

“It's the ghost!” Sean shouted. “Let's get out of here!”

Brian grabbed his arm. “It's not a ghost! Watch out!” He pulled Sean out of the way as Carter came tumbling head over heels into the mine.

Carter sat up and stared at Brian. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Brian said.

Carter's eyes widened when he saw the horse. He glanced around, and Brian could see that he was finally beginning to figure things out.

“Hey! How about that? I found the lost mine!” Carter exclaimed. “And Nightstar! That's got to be Nightstar! I wonder if there's a reward!”

“You found them?” Sean said. “What do you think we're doing here?”

“We followed the trail of your peanut shells,” Brian told Carter. “They led right past the mine and up the side of the mountain.”

“Where you got lost,” Bobby added.

Carter's face turned red. He was about to object when Brian said, “We can't stay here. We've got to take the horse back. We've got to call the sheriff.”

“Before someone else gets here,” Sean said.

“Someone else?” Bobby asked. “Like who?”

Sean froze when he heard a noise outside on the rock ledge. “Listen!” he whispered.

The sound came closer.

“Footsteps!” Brian said. “Look!”

A tall, heavyset figure stood menacingly in the doorway.

Sean gulped and nudged Brian. “Now what?” Sean asked in an alarmed tone.

Brian shook his head. “We're trapped.”

W
HAT ARE YOU KIDS
doing here?” the man demanded angrily.

“Mr. Morrison!” Carter, yelled. “Boy, are we ever glad to see you!”

Mr. Morrison ignored Carter as he stepped into the mine. His face was red and sweaty, and Brian thought he appeared nervous.

Carter didn't seem to notice. “Hey, Mr. Morrison,” he said, “we found Nightstar. Is there a reward? There ought to be.”

“Be quiet, Carter,” Brian mumbled.

“What for?” Carter told Brian. “I found Nightstar and I want my reward. Isn't that right, Mr. Morrison?”

“Shut up,” hissed Brian.

Mr. Morrison shot Brian a look, then smiled. “You best listen to your little friend,” Mr. Morrison told Carter in a menacing tone. “Before your big mouth gets you into a heap of real trouble.”

Carter was confused. “What are you talking about, Mr. Morrison? I found Nightstar. He's right there.” Carter pointed to the horse.

Mr. Morrison gave a mirthless laugh. “I appreciate you boys locating my horse, but I'm afraid the only reward you'll be collecting will be six feet under.”

Bobby took a few steps back. “What is he talking about?” he asked Brian nervously.

“What's going on?” asked Carter as Mr. Morrison slid a knife out from a sheath at his belt and stepped toward him. “Hey, you guys!” screamed Carter. “Help!”

Just then Brian sprang at Mr. Morrison, knocking him backward. “Run!” Brian yelled, but before any of them could get away, Mr. Morrison quickly scrambled to his feet, the knife blade flashing in his hand.

“You snooping kids have been nothing but trouble from the beginning,” he growled. “But now I'm going to take care of all of you once and for all!”

“Hold it right there!”

Mr. Morrison whirled, and standing at the entrance of the cave were Woody and the local sheriff. The sheriff had his gun drawn and aimed at Mr. Morrison.

“It's over, Morrison,” he said. “Drop the knife.”

“Drop it, Wade,” Woody said. “He's right. It's over.”

Mr. Morrison took a long look at Woody. “I told you to keep your mouth shut,” he told him, but Woody just shook his head and shrugged.

“I couldn't keep your secret no more, Wade,” he said.

“You're a fool, Woody,” said Mr. Morrison, and he let the knife fall to the dirt. The sheriff immediately grabbed his arms and clicked a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.