Authors: The Kachina Doll Mystery

Tags: #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #Arizona, #Girls & Women, #Social Science, #Indians of North America, #Juvenile Fiction, #Girls, #Hopi Indians, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Physical Fitness Centers - Arizona, #Mystery Fiction, #Kachina Dolls, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Ranches, #Ghosts, #Dolls, #Health Resorts, #Toys; Dolls; Puppets, #Mystery and Detective Stories

Carolyn Keene - Nancy Drew (7 page)

“That’s all that was in it?” Bess asked, taking the box and peering into it.

“It’s Jake Harris’s journal!” Nancy announced after she’d scanned the first page.

“Maybe he wrote something in it that will tell us where the treasure is hidden,” Bess said hopefully.

“If there really is a treasure,” Heather reminded her. “No one has ever been sure about that, you know.”

“Look and see if there’s a map,” George urged.

Nancy leafed through the pages carefully. There were not a great many entries, and once the spidery script ended, there was nothing else. “No map,” she told them. “Guess I’ll have to read it and see if he’s put a clue in his entries.”

Bess, George and Heather peered over her shoulders at the open book. “I hope you can read it,” Heather said. “His writing is so shaky and faded.”

“I’ll do my best,” Nancy assured them. “Now, let’s repair the painting and see if we can all get some sleep.”

Heather shook her head. “To think that’s been hidden there all these years. I wonder why no one else has ever found it.”

“No one else is as good a detective,” George stated firmly.

“I just followed the Kachina’s guidance,” Nancy told them. “It gave me the clue.”

“And you investigated it and found the journal,” Heather finished.

Chuck, awakened by their voices in the hall, came out to join them. He inspected the journal and listened as Nancy recounted how it had been found, then helped by replacing the brick she had pried out of the wall. That done, they all returned to their rooms. Nancy took the journal with her.

Though she was tired, she opened it at once. Even with the good light from her bedside lamp, she had difficulty reading the script. Yet she was immediately intrigued.

Deer Slayer was here today. He brought me a haunch of venison to trade for some canned goods, and we talked long about Winslow and his offer for the Kachinas. Deer Slayer doesn’t want to sell them, but the year has been a bad one and a few of his tribe are beginning to talk of all the food Winslow’s money would buy.

Deer Slayer and some of the other tribe elders have asked me to speak for them in the bargaining with Winslow and I’ve agreed, though I don’t think they should sell the figures. The ones they’ve let me use to copy for my wall paintings are so beautiful, it would be a tragedy to let them go.

Nancy turned the page as that entry ended. The next day’s writing dealt with ranch matters, a missing heifer, the possibility of sending a few calves to the reservation for Deer Slayer’s people. Later, there was another entry about Jake’s meeting with Mr. Winslow and their discussions about the Kachinas.

The man is offering far too little for the Indians’ treasure. He would cheat them of the very food for their children. I’ve advised the chiefs and elders not to even consider selling the Kachinas to him. If they must part with them, I’m sure I can contact a reputable trader who will at least make it worth their while.

Nancy yawned. Her eyes were burning from the strain of deciphering the writing. The next entry was more about his painting and the fact that Winslow had seen the pictures on the wall of the hall and acted very strangely.

It seems that Mr. Winslow believes that the Kachinas are here. He has taken to riding out here at odd times and even asked to be allowed to spend the night. I think he hopes to become my friend to use me against the Hopi chiefs in his trading schemes.

Nancy stopped for a moment and stared out at the shadows of the palo verde tree. Had something moved there? she asked herself. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as though someone was watching her, yet she could see nothing.

Fully awakened by the feeling, she continued her reading. Jake seemed to be growing more and more concerned about his Indian friends and about his own safety. He described the way he’d pried the brick loose and cleared the box-sized space behind it.

I’ll paint a Kachina to guard my hiding place, and to guide my friends to this book, should something happen to me. Perhaps it is just the fancy of an old man too long alone, but I see things in the night
—
fearsome torches on the distant hills and shadowy figures nearer to my house. I sleep on the second floor now, with the stairs barricaded. I’ll be glad when Deer Slayer comes to visit again and I can tell him what I’ve learned about this man Winslow. Once he tells Winslow that the Kachinas are not for sale, perhaps my ordeal will end.

Nancy turned the page and stopped, startled to find that there was nothing written on the next page or the one after it. In fact, a quick flipping through of the remaining pages told her that there were no more entries at all. A closer inspection of the book, however, revealed the rough edges of three or four pages that had been torn from the journal.

Frowning, she closed the old book and carefully placed it in the drawer of the nightstand, then turned off the lamp. Moonlight glowed beyond her window, and she lay watching the feathery shadows of the palo verde as it stirred in the night wind.

The entries in the journal certainly seemed to prove that Maria’s theory of the old man’s death was the correct one. Jake Harris had been a friend of the Hopi, not an enemy, and there appeared to be no reason for them to have hounded or frightened him to death.

And what about the stories of hidden treasure? she asked herself. Could it be the Kachinas?

That seemed more likely, though Jake hadn’t mentioned seeing any except the ones he’d used as models for his wall paintings. Nancy drifted off to sleep, still not sure what clues she’d gained from her late-night discovery.

Her dreams were haunted by frail, old men and floating, teasing, beckoning Kachinas. The chanting seemed to surround her, and the Kachinas circled and reached out to her in pleading ways. It was almost a relief when a great pounding on her bedroom door brought her back to reality.

“Fire!” Chuck shouted. “We’ve got a fire in one of the cottages!”

A Raging Fire

Nancy pulled on her jeans and a sweater right over her pajamas, slipped her feet into her shoes, and raced out to the hall. George and Bess emerged right behind her.

“Wh-what happened?” Bess asked in a shaky voice.

“Let’s find out,” Nancy replied, and the three of them quickly followed the cold draft of night air to the open rear door.

Once outside, the situation became obvious to them instantly. “It’s the cottage farthest from the house!” George cried.

The little building was blazing like a torch in the darkness. Chuck and Ward were already spraying water from the two garden hoses on the inferno, but seemed to be making no progress at all.

Nancy looked around quickly. “Did anyone call the fire department?” she shouted above the roaring of the flames.

“I did,” Heather called as she and Maria came racing from the direction of the stable. They were carrying what looked like burlap feed sacks. “They’ll be along as soon as they can, but in the meantime, we’d better wet these sacks and try to keep the fire from spreading.”

Nancy nodded and they all helped Heather dip the feed sacks in the swimming pool. Once they were soaked, each took a couple and began chasing the sparks that were already floating away from the blaze.

The men, having given up on the cottage, were now using the hoses to wet the walls and roofs of the nearby buildings to keep the fire from spreading. This left it up to the girls and Maria to put out the small blazes that seemed to start everywhere in the grass, the hedge, even in the clumps of desert wild flowers and bushes nearby.

It was like a nightmare. While one spark was being extinguished, three more were igniting close-by areas. The smoke rolled over them and, as it reached the stable, set the horses to whinnying in terror. When the crashing of hooves became too loud, Heather left the others and went to open the stall doors, allowing the terrified animals to get out into the corrals if they wanted to.

By the time the small, rural fire truck arrived, Nancy and the others were smoke-stained and weary. They were all glad to stand back and watch as the firemen tamed and finally put out the roaring blaze. Only then did they have a chance to relax and sit down on the damp chairs near the pool.

“How did it get started, Chuck?” one of the firemen asked, and for the first time, Nancy recognized him as Floyd, the young man she’d ridden to the barbecue with earlier that evening.

Chuck shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he answered. “I was sound asleep when it started. Heather woke me up.”

All eyes turned toward the redhead. “I guess it was the smell of smoke that woke me,” she said. “My room faces this way and when I opened my eyes, I could see the flames. It scared me half to death. I thought the whole resort was on fire.”

Floyd looked around. In the pearly beginning of daylight, the charred places on the lawn and bushes were very clear. “You’re just lucky that it wasn’t,” he said. “If you hadn’t come out in time, the place could have gone.”

“Anybody out here ready for sandwiches and coffee?” Maria called from the doorway. When there was a chorus of assent, she and Ngyun emerged with two big trays.

“When in the world did you do this?” Heather asked in amazement.

“As soon as the firemen arrived,” Maria answered. “I knew you wouldn’t need me any more and I already had Ngyun at work making sandwiches in the kitchen.”

Everyone began to eat with enthusiasm, and Ngyun’s shy smile soon appeared as everyone commented on his handiwork. The ham, cheese, and beef sandwiches did taste delicious and helped to lift their spirits in the cold aftermath of the battle with the fire.

Ngyun’s smile faded, however, when one of the firemen frowned at the charred and smouldering building and commented, “I just don’t see how it could have started accidentally, Chuck. There wasn’t anyone staying in that cottage, and you weren’t working on it yesterday, were you?”

Chuck shook his head. “We finished the rough work before Grandfather’s accident, and I haven’t had the time to do anything else since. I’ve been waiting for Grandfather. He makes all the final decisions about the wiring and finishing, you know.”

“Are you saying that the cottage could have been deliberately set on fire?” Nancy asked, her attention caught by the idea.

“I not do it!” Ngyun protested, getting to his feet so quickly that he spilled the remainder of his milk in the grass. “I not set any fires!”

For a moment, no one spoke. Maria cleared her throat, but before she could say anything, the boy was gone, fleeing not toward the house, but toward the stable. In a moment, the black and white pinto appeared, Ngyun clinging to his bare back as they raced away from the house into the desert.

“I didn’t mean to make him think I was accusing him,” Nancy protested quickly, getting up. “Should I ride after him?”

“You’d never catch him,” Maria told her sorrowfully.

“Why should he think you were accusing him?” George asked. “You were just asking a logical question.”

“Perhaps he should be questioned,” Ward observed, looking uncomfortable. “There have been so many fires since that first signal fire on the ridge. I don’t think that Ngyun could have anything to do with them, but...” He let his voice trail off, shaking his head, then continued, “Burned saguaro cactus and fenceposts are one thing, but the cottage is something else.”

“No!” Maria was on her feet, her face full of pain. “It can’t be Ngyun,” she cried. “Honestly, Chuck, he was in his bed when you pounded on our door. There’s no way he could have done it. He wouldn’t, I just know that he wouldn’t.”

“I think we’re all jumping to conclusions,” Floyd said. “The fire is too hot to check now, but I’ll come back late this afternoon and look around. I’ll see if I can find any clues to how it happened. Maybe that will give us some answers.”

His words seemed to signal the end of the brief rest period. The firemen finished their sandwiches and coffee and began to gather up their equipment and put it back on the truck.

The rest of the group, including Nancy, Bess, and George, all set about cleaning up what they could of the debris that had been left behind. By the time the truck drove away, the sun was over the horizon and the new day had begun.

Once things had been set to right, Nancy wandered slowly toward the house. “What’s wrong?” Bess asked as they started down the hall to their rooms, anxious to clean up.

“I’m worried about Ngyun,” Nancy admitted. “I promised to try to clear his name and now he thinks I’ve accused him of setting the cottage on fire.”

“Do you believe there’s a possibility that he did?” George asked.

Nancy considered, then shook her head. “I don’t think he’s guilty of anything except being alone too much and pretending to be the kind of boy he thinks his father was.”

“Poor kid,” Bess murmured compassionately. “But why would someone else set fires and let him be blamed? I mean, someone has to be doing all these things.”

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