Chapter 16 The Secret at Shadow Ranch by Carolyn Keene
The Sheriff’s Quarry
A burst of excited questions met Nancy’s announcement. She chuckled and George said, “Quiet, everybody. Now tell us where the treasure is.”
Nancy led her friends into the living room, shut the door, and announced, “In the cliff houses down the valley.”
“They’re certainly the oldest dwellings around here,” said George. “But they are not on the ranch.”
“They were when Valentine wrote his letter.”
“Nancy, how do you know?” Alice asked.
“Because Aunt Bet told us that every stone in this fireplace came from somewhere on the ranch. It stands to reason that the Indian grinding stone came from the cliff dwelling.” She reminded the girls that Sheriff Humber had been obliged to sell that part of his property after Valentine’s death. “It’s natural that he would get rid of the outlying section first.”
“Nancy,” declared George, “that’s a great piece of deduction.”
Just then the triangle clanged for luncheon. As the girls hurried to the kitchen, Nancy requested them to keep her theory a secret.
“We won’t be able to check it before tomorrow, and we don’t want anybody else to get there before us.”
As the group hurried into the kitchen, they stared in amazement. Mrs. Thurmond, ladeling out stew at the stove, was wearing her big white apron as usual, and on her head was perched a black straw hat bedecked with artificial roses. Instead of being amused, the cowboys stood about looking uncomfortable and Aunt Bet’s face was strained.
“I’m leavin‘!” announced the cook, without turning from her work. “I’ve fixed my last dinner in this place. As soon as it’s over, I’m ridin’ into Tumbleweed with you young folks and takin’ the three-o’clock bus for Phoenix.”
Mr. Rawley said soothingly, “Things have been pretty rough around here, Mrs. Thurmond. But we think they’ll be getting better pretty soon.”
Mrs. Thurmond faced the rancher squarely. “Mr. Rawley, I can take rough times with the best of ’em, but phantom horses—that’s too much for me.” She picked up the big bowl of stew and walked toward the table.
Aunt Bet followed her, pleading. “Mrs. Thurmond, please reconsider.”
“Nope!” said the woman, and set the bowl down with a thump.
Nancy knew that the loss of the cook would be an added hardship for Aunt Bet, who not only had ranch-house duties, but was needed to help her husband.
This new crisis threw a pall over the meal. At the appearance of a magnificent lemon meringue pie
, the gloom became even deeper, for it seemed likely to be the last time any of the diners would taste Mrs. Thurmond’s fine baking.
When the dessert was gone, the men pushed back their chairs and rose. Immediately the cook asked Dave what time he would be driving the ranch wagon to Tumbleweed.
Before he could answer, Nancy spoke up. “Not for half an hour yet, are you, Dave?”
He caught the urgent message in her eyes and nodded. “I’ll honk the horn when I’m ready to go,” he promised.
As soon as the men had left the kitchen, the girls and Aunt Bet gathered around Mrs. Thurmond and pleaded with her to remain. The little woman shook her head regretfully, but steadfastly refused. “That phantom has me scared out o’ my skin,” she declared.
“If I could prove to you that the phantom is a real horse, Mrs. Thurmond,” Nancy asked, “would you stay?”
“ ’Course I would! I’m not afraid of a live critter.”
“Then just let me have a little time. I feel sure I’ll be able to show you how the trick is done.”
The others chimed in, cajoling the cook to give Nancy a chance. Bess added, “I don’t know how we’ll get along without you and all those wonderful pies.”
Mrs. Thurmond considered a moment. “All right. One more night.” At their delighted thanks she flushed with pleasure and marched off to remove her hat. When she returned, the girls and Aunt Bet helped her clear the table. Before long, the horn of the ranch wagon sounded and Nancy left with her friends.
Dave, Tex, and Bud were in the yard talking to Uncle Ed. Bud was holding a guitar in a case. A short distance away Shorty lounged against the horse trailer, which had been hitched to the back of the ranch wagon.
As the girls came up, they heard Uncle Ed say, “You go ahead, boys, and have a good time. You’ve earned a holiday.”
“You might need help with those palominos when the vet comes,” said Dave. He glanced uneasily at Nancy and she understood at once how he felt.
“I’ll be glad to excuse you, Dave, if you feel you ought to stay,” she said.
“No, that’s not necessary,” Ed Rawley said.
As Dave thanked him, Nancy noticed Tex talking quietly to Alice. Flushed with excitement, she smiled happily and hurried to Nancy’s side. “Tex’s brother Jack is going to be in the rodeo and Tex says Jack would like to take me to the barbecue and dance. He’s fifteen—Jack, I mean. Is it all right, Uncle Ed?” she asked, blushing.
The rancher nodded and chuckled. “I’ve met the young man. Go ahead.”
As Alice went back to tell Tex, Nancy and George looked knowingly at Bess, who dimpled.
“Now how did you fix that, Miss Cupid?” her cousin asked.
“It was easy,” Bess replied. “I remembered Tex had mentioned his brother was coming into Tumbleweed for the rodeo.”
“Come on!” called Tex. “Let’s roll!” The others hastened to the ranch wagon.
Bud, carrying his guitar, climbed in the back of the wagon, and Shorty joined him. Tex, George, and Bess sat in the middle, while Nancy and Alice took seats next to Dave, who was at the wheel.
“I’ve never been to a rodeo,” Alice said as they started out. “What’s it like?”
Tex grinned. “Well, Dave here is going to flip some fancy loops and so’s Bud.”
“He means they’re going to rope cows,” said Bess.
“Steers,” Tex corrected.
Bess asked Tex what he was going to do. “Dog a steer,” was his reply.
Dave chuckled at Alice’s puzzled look. “He’ll ride his horse alongside a running steer and leap aboard.”
“Then he’ll bite the dust,” Bud teased.
“Not Tex!” Dave rejoined. “He’s a real salty bulldogger!”
“And Shorty there is a broncobuster,” Tex added.
“And I’m fixin’ to win, too,” Shorty declared. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He went on to brag about several occasions when he had won prizes in rodeos.
While he talked, Nancy was quiet, thinking hard about the phantom horse. “Oh, how I wish Chief could talk!” she said to herself. “He’s been closer to it than anyone.” She wondered again why the dog had been held prisoner.
Suddenly Nancy thought of the light she had seen in the spring house shortly before the ghost horse had appeared. With a thrill of excitement, Nancy suddenly figured out how the trick could have been done! It was all she could do to keep from exclaiming aloud. She decided to say nothing to the other girls until she had an opportunity to prove her theory. “And I can’t do that until after dark,” she thought.
When they reached Tumbleweed, Dave drove slowly through the streets crowded with visitors. Many of the men had on fringed buckskin jackets and some of the women wore long pioneer dresses with sunbonnets. Others wore graceful squaw dresses.
Suddenly Nancy spotted a drably dressed gray-haired man standing in the doorway of a store-the man who called himself Bursey! At that moment his eyes met hers and he darted away in the crowd.
Nancy’s heart sank. The sheriff, who was on his way to or from the cabin, had missed his quarry!
Nancy wondered what to do-get word to the authorities? Dave interrupted her thoughts by saying that the rodeo would not start for an hour. “We have to go and check in,” he said. “What do you girls want to do in the meantime?”
“Oh, we’ll keep busy,” Nancy replied.
When the cowboys had left, she suggested that Bess take Alice and hunt for Bursey. She and George would go in another direction. “Let’s meet at Mary Deer’s shop.”
They all arrived half an hour later. There had been no trace of the man. “He probably left town in a hurry,” George declared.
The store was crowded and Mary Deer had an assistant working behind the counter. While the other girls looked at jewelry, Nancy beckoned her Indian friend aside and asked if she would keep a secret. When Mary promised, Nancy told her that she hoped to find the treasure in the cliff dwellings, and inquired the best way to get to them.
“There are stairs up the front,” said Mary, “but they are not safe. You had best come down from above.”
She explained that at the far end of the cliff apartments there was a huge slab of rock which had been used as a lookout point by the ancient Indians. Stairs led from the rock down to the top row of dwellings. Nancy thanked Mary and promised to let her know if she discovered anything.
By this time the other girls had bought Indian jewelry, and after Nancy had purchased a turquoise pillbox for Hannah, they left the shop. The foursome followed the arrows to the far end of town where they found the rodeo arena, a short distance from the stockyard. Nancy bought tickets at the front gate, and they all found seats in the stands.
Bess sighed. “I’m so hot, I’d like to have a cold drink and I think I need a hot dog to go with it.”
George grinned. “Eating is really a very fattening hobby, dear cousin.”
Before Bess could retort, a voice came from the loud-speaker. “Telephone call for Miss Nancy Drew in the booth next to the refreshment stand.”
The girls looked at one another in amazement. Afraid that something had gone wrong at the ranch, Nancy excused herself and hurried off. She made her way through the crowd to the first telephone booth beside the hot-dog stand. As she reached it, the door opened and Bursey stepped out with a grin. At the same moment a tall figure in black glided to her side—Mr. Diamond!
Bursey’s strong fingers closed on Nancy’s wrist. “You’re coming with us!” he growled. “And don’t yell or you’ll be sorry!”