Norton, Andre - Novel 32 (8 page)

"Some arrowheads and part of a spearhead,"
Neal answered. "
Toliver
found a necklace of
teeth. The string fell apart when he picked it
up. He didn't want it—said it
might be 'medi
cine'—like
warriors wore into battle to make
them brave."

"Medicine."
Pinto nodded as if he under
stood that very well.
"Depended a lot on their
'medicine,' they did. Sometimes when they got
to
thinkin
'
their 'medicine' wasn't good, they'd
stop right in the middle of a fight and light out.''
"Pinto," Neal said,
"you talked about
Apaches attacking the station. Did they do that
often?"

"Often enough to keep a man on his toes
wonderin
' when it was
goin
'
to happen
agin
.
Station was changed some from the way you
see it now. Your pa, he's
plannin
' to turn it
back a little—make it more
interestin
'
to them
tourists. It
used to be more like a real fort.
Them walls that's
now only stones and '
dobe
lyin
' around—they was built up. The main
buildin
', it was alongside of one wall,
this here
bunkhouse
and smithy against
th'other
side. There was some
buildin's
over there—that's
where teamsters an' travelers not
comin
' by
stage could
fort up if there was a bad raid.
Kept
four, five men on guard here all the time.
They'd
put the horse an' mules in the center
to
be safe. There was just one gate to let in the stage and team. An' they kept
lookout posts up
the road a ways.

"They
was
lucky here
because of the spring.
Station built around that so had water all the
time. For a while—while
Manico
, the Apache
War
chief, was
raidin
'—they kept an army pa
trol here, too."

"Were you here then, Pinto?"

"Well, boy, I may be old, but I
ain't
got that
many years
behind me.
M'pa
was, though, and
I heard him tell 'bout those
times. You see, before pa was a
young'un
and came to
this
country it was
boornin
'—mines
gettin
' out
gold
and silver, the
army
ridin
' herd on the '
Paches
and
tryin
' to keep peace. Then came the War
Between the States—what folks call
the Civil War now. The army pulled out and went back east to do their
fightin
'. Then the '
Paches
, they
took it into their heads that it
was them who
beat
and scared the army home. So they just
cut loose, and in this whole country there
weren't hardly anyplace a white
man dared rest
easy.
Pete Kitchen down
Tubac
way—he had
a regular fort built on his
ranch and he held out.
Got the
Pimas
on his side.
They hated '
Paches
and fought for him.

"But
otherwise there weren't no
Arizona
,
nor not much of
New Mexico
neither, safe
for
white skins
. The stage
people,
who was
here then, they had to give in and clear out.
Went
broke, that first stage line did.
And the mines—
men
walked off and left '
em
. That was a bad
time.

"Then the war back east finished and the
army came back. Only the '
Paches
, they were
so
sure they licked the whites first time around,
they weren't
goin
' to give up easily. The min
ers, they
was
itchin
' to get back to what they
had had to leave. So there were all kinds of
little wars as went on, with the army
ridin
' themselves weary
tryin
' to
get things back into
shape.

"Sam Bright, he was the man who started
the stage
goin
'
this way again, back in '67 that
were. There were good, rich strikes back in the
hills, plenty of them—gold
comin
' out, men
goin
' in. He went around
hirin
' his people
outta
the war back east. They might not know Injuns
too good—though some of '
em
being scouts before the war did—but they was good shots. Had him a sort of
private army, Bright did. He
built
three, four stations like this one. Others
he took over from the first
companies—put his
men in. Then he began
runnin
' the line. Some
times he had more guards than
passengers. But
he didn't lose many coaches
and he got a rep
like Pete Kitchen
for
holdin
' out and being
tough enough to make the '
Paches
think twice.

"Then
he made a treaty for
hisself
with some of the Navajos
and they took to
doin
' his scout-
in'—just like the
Pimas
did for Kitchen. This
station was
important in those days. I
seen,
when I was a real little tad, a colonel
sittin
'
down here
with Bright and some Navajos
talkin
' things out.
'Course that was nigh to the
end of
all the trouble. The '
Paches
, they got
crowded out and had to go on reservations.
Then Bright had
nothin
'
but some road agents
now and then to
worry 'bout."

"What were road agents?" Christie wanted
to know.

"Thieves—after the
strongboxes."

Strongboxes—Christie remembered TV shows
she had seen. Gold dust coming
from the moun
tain
mines. Why, there might be even some
among those things they had found today!
Could it belong to them because
they had found
it?

"Then the mines began to peter out," Pinto
went on. "Stage came through
maybe once a
month, not twice a week like
before.
Darringer
closed
down. Maybe just one or two old desert
rats
still bunked out there
doin
' some
pannin
'
and a little
hammerin
' around. The town died
and
so did the stage line. Only Bright had made
this
station such a good, tight place it lasted
longer than them what had used it."

"When the Indians attacked, the people who
were traveling just stayed in the
station, didn't
they? They didn't try to get away?" Neal
wanted to know.

"They weren't stupid," Pinto said. "Who'd
get out from behind walls and try to make a run
for it with maybe a '
Pache
behind every rock
waitin
' to cut '
em
down. The '
Paches
, they
didn't
go
chargin
' around on horses like the
other Injuns. They liked to shoot without get-
tin' shot at—spend a whole day
creepin
'
to pick
off a man without him
knowin
' they were within
miles."

He puffed his twisted cigarette.
"
'Course
there
was always some greenhorns as thought
they knew
more'n
the men who
had been here
most of
their lives. There was a story
m'pa
told
'bout a couple of dudes—they were
from
San
Francisco
—offered a driver big money to make
a run out of here when they had to hole up
some
days.
Iffen
Bright or one of his head men
had been here, he'd have locked '
em
up in a
hurry,
for their own good.
M'pa
was here, only
he had the fever and he was
outta
his head
mosta
the time, till it was too late.

"It looked like the '
Paches
had beat it. A
scout
said the only sign he saw was two, three
days old. Well, these dudes kept
uppin
'
the
price—they
was
in a
tearin
' hurry to get away
for some reason. Finally they found a stupid
wrangler who was only a part-time driver. He
said he knew a way up the canyon
as might get
them
out. So they
was
on to him,
wavin
'
their
money
in their fists. He knocked out the regular
driver and took '
em
—and that was the end of
'
em
all."

"They never found them, the stage, or dis
covered anything about what
happened?" Neal
wanted
to know.

"That's the way the story goes. And what
made it worse—the '
Paches
came in twice as hard in the
mornin
'.
There was one time the station was nearly
took
. Only a
patrol of horse
soldiers
comin
' in drove them off. But it's a
story there was no proof of. I'm
reckonin
' them
dudes didn't get very far. Yes, this here station
has sure seen some
stirrin
' times in the old
days. Now"—Pinto rose and stretched— "
seein
'
as how I have me a full day of
fetchin
' and
carryin
'
comin
'
up tomorrow, I'm
goin
' to get
me a little shut-eye."

"Thank you," Christie said, "for telling us
about the station.
Good night."

"Good night," Neal echoed her.

As they started back toward the big house,
Christie asked in a low voice,
"Do you suppose
what we found* was
from that stage? But why
put those things in
a cave, not just leave them
there when
they left?"

"They might have started out with them on
board and then thought they could
make better
time
without them," Neal answered thought
fully. "They could have
beat
it out of here fast,
thinking someone would stop them—and then
ditched the stuff."

Christie looked carefully around. A big moon
was rising to light the yard and
the piles of
lumber and materials that
had been brought out
from town. But there
were dark shadows, too.
No
stagecoach, though
, waiting
for foolish men
to take out into that farther dark where the
silent enemy could be waiting. What was the
truth behind Pinto's story?

It was quite early when the pounding and noise
began the next morning. Christie hurried to
help Mother get breakfast. Some of the workers,
rather than make the rough trip into town
and back every day, were camping out, and
they ate with the family. Others had brought
their own supplies as had the Navajos. Neal,
carrying in what seemed endless armloads of
wood pieces to feed the
stove, nudged his sister
as he passed.

"Did you ask her yet—about our going?"
"Yes, last night. But didn't
you hear what
Pinto
said to Father? It may be going to rain."
"What would that matter? It's dry in the
cave.

'But Mother doesn't know about the cave.
She'd think we were going to be
out in the
open,"
Christie pointed out.

"All right, I'll ask her again if you won't!"
Neal was impatient.

That was not fair, Christie thought, as she
set down a tray of used coffee
mugs.

"Chris." Perks pulled at her belt from be
hind. "Chris, when are we
going to go—you-
know-where?"

"You-know-where?"
Mother brought a
steaming tea kettle from the
stove. "I do hope
we can get the water heater in soon. Where is
you-know-where, Perks?"

"She means the place where we found the
arrowheads," Neal cut in
quickly.

"If it rains you won't be going anywhere,
Perks, much as I would like you
to," Mother
answered. "I shall
have to drive into town again
with
Marina
to the launderette, or we won't
have anything to wear in another
day. You and
Parky
can come along with us, Perks."

"No!" Perks could be as stubborn as
Parky
when she wished.

"Perks!"
Mother's voice was a warning.

"I want to go with Chris and Neal—to
that place where all the things
are—the dark
place—"

"What dark place?"

Neal caught at
Perks's
shoulder.
Christie
knew he
longed to give the little girl a warning
shake and did not quite dare, not with Mother
watching.

It was then that Christie was inspired to tell
a portion of the truth. "We
found a cave," she began. Neal glared at her but she continued
anyway. "It has some—"

"Oh, the arrowheads were in a cave? But
Christie, caves can be dangerous
places. You
mustn't
go back there alone."

She must have been crazy, Christie thought
now.

Neal added swiftly: "This one's all right,
Mother.
Toliver
knows a lot
about such things.
He's been at that place
before—so has Libby."

"I don't know about your going back there—
at least not until your father
sees it."

Neal shot a very hot look at Christie, which
she knew she deserved. If Mother
said no now
they
would have to tell about their discovery.
Then maybe (Christie remembered the mailbag)
Mother and Father would decide
they could not
keep
the things, and their plan would be
spoiled. If they only had time to get to the cave and lay
things out, perhaps everyone would be
so impressed they would agree to keep them!

"Mother," Neal repeated anxiously, "
Toli
ver
has been there, and it really is
safe. He's awfully careful about things like that."

"Perhaps—you and Chris—but I don't know
about Perks and
Parky
—"

"Yes, yes, yes!"
Perks's
voice rose higher
with every yes. One minute more and Mother
would say no just because Perks was being so
stubborn.

"It really
is
safe there, Mother,"
Christie
assured
her. "If you go to the launderette,
you're
going to be very busy. And the men will
be
here, too." No need to point out that Perks
and
Parky
could be nuisances at either place
if they set their minds to it. Mother already
knew that. Mother still wore a frown line. "I
want a promise, Christie."

"Yes!" At that moment Christie was ready
to promise anything.

"If you go, you'll stay with the twins all the
time. And Perks—"

"Yes?"

"You and
Parky
must
promise to mind what
Chris
and Neal
tell
you to do, or you won't go
back again. Understand? I mean you
espe
cially,
Parky
." The other twin had come up,
dragging the picnic basket as if
ready to pack
it all
by
himself
.

"I promise!" Perks cried, and Christie hoped
she meant it.

But
Parky
was not so sure.
"Do I have to
just
tag along?" His lip stuck out stubbornly.

"If you go at all, you do." Mother was firm.

Parky
sighed. "When do we get big
enough
so's
Chris and Neal
don't
have to look out for us? I get awfully tired of being looked after."
"The sooner you are 'looked
after' without
whining and making trouble for Christie and Neal, the closer you are to
looking after your
selves,"
Mother answered tartly. "All right,
you can go. But be home earlier
than you were
last night. And if it rains,
keep under cover and
get back as soon
as you can."

Parky
banged the basket down before
Chris
tie.
"Hurry and get some sandwiches and
things! We
gotta
get there
quick!"

Mother laughed. "And you think you need plenty of
sandwiches and things,
Parky
? Well,
get me the peanut butter,
Christie—and the
jelly-"

" 'N
cookies and bananas,"
chanted
Parky
.

"There are no more bananas and not many
cookies." Mother set the
basket down on top
of
the long table. "If you people are going to
go
picknicking
every day
we shall have to lay
in more of that kind
of supplies. As it is,
Parky
,
you'll have to do with what we have left for
today."

Parky
stood on one leg and hopped.
"I'm
going
outside. Come on, Perks. And we don't
want to wait too long."

Christie opened jars and got sandwich bags
ready. But Mother did not begin
spreading
bread at
once. Instead she looked from Christie
to Neal.

"I told the twins that you two are in charge,
and I mean it. But also, don't
order them
around. You know that only
makes
Parky
stubborn. And Perks follows his lead in
everything.
So both of
you
watch what
you say and don't
start trouble. If it
weren't that the washing has
to be
done and the twins hate waiting at the
launderette,
I wouldn't leave them. Just you be
careful."

"Yes, Mother," Christie answered, and Neal
nodded.

The basket was filled at last and Christie put
Shan on his leash. She was going
to be extra
careful
about him today. Letting Neal carry the
basket, she cuddled the cat in her arms. The
twins were waiting outside with
Baron.

As they passed the old bunkhouse Pinto
called to them: "Rain
comin
'.
You watch out—
don't go too far."

"We found a cave,"
Parky
answered. "Rain
can't
get at us if we go in that."

"A cave?"
Pinto sounded surprised.
"First
time I
heard tell of a cave 'round here. When
I get me a little more time I'll mosey over and
take a look at that. Me, I lived
'round here off
'n'
on for a good many years, and this is the
first time I heard tell of any cave—"

"Shut up!" Neal said in a fierce whisper to
Parky
as Christie smiled at the old
man.

"It isn't a very big one." She tried quickly
to think of something to say that
would make
their find
appear to be of little importance.
"We're going to look for arrowheads—"

"
Toliver
and Libby
goin
' with you?
It's better if they do—they've
enough sense to know
what
kind of shelter to find.
Good luck
hun
-
tin'."

"Thanks!" Neal used the basket to bump the twins
on ahead. "We told you," he was hissing
as Christie caught up, "that
the cave's got to
be
a secret for now. Then you, Perks, and you
Parky
, have to go
blabbin
'
it all around!"

"Christie told Mother!" Perks exploded in
dignantly. "She did! I heard
her."

"Only after you had started
talking too much
yourself."
With that Neal made Christie feel
better. "Now,
if you're going to help with the
Plan, you've got to keep quiet until we're
ready. Maybe if other people knew
now they
wouldn't let
us keep that stuff."

"Maybe we can't anyway," Christie said in
a low voice. "Once they see
it. That mailbag,
Neal—shouldn't
we bring that home and give
it to the postman?"

"Why? It's so old now the letters in it—if
there
is
anything in the
bag—won't mean much.
They'd
only go to the dead letter office prob
ably."

Parky
was surprised. "What's a
dead letter
office?"
he demanded.

"We learned about that in social studies last
year," Neal answered.
"Letters that can't be
delivered, when there's no return addresses on
them, are sent there. They open them up to find
if there is anything inside to tell who sent them
or who they are for. If they can't find out,
then
that's that—they throw them out.
The people
those letters were written
to—those in the
bag—must all be dead,
too. So I don't see why we couldn't have them to show—they wouldn't
be any use to anyone."

Neal sounded reasonable, but Christie had
an idea that Mother and Father,
and maybe the
mailman,
might not agree. But they did not
have to decide just yet.

"I wonder why the people who left all the stuff never
came back to get it," Perks said.
"And why was it put there anyway?"

Could all those things have come out of the
coach Pinto had told them
about—the one that
had
tried to get through the attackers? Perhaps
they never really would know.

But Neal was more optimistic: "Maybe we
can find out. But we have to get
going now.
Hey,
there's
Toliver
and Libby!"

The Navajos came hurrying to meet them.

"Thought perhaps you couldn't come to
day,"
Toliver
said. "It's going to rain, so we'd better hurry to get to the cave before
the storm
catches us.
Look what I have." He held out
two camp lanterns. "Just put fresh batteries in
these and they'll last a good long time. We need
more than just a flashlight in there now."

Libby carried a bag slung over her shoulder. "I
brought some extra lunch. Here, wait a min
ute." She paused by a big bush and, taking out
a knife like
Toliver's
,
sawed off a heavy branch thick with leaves, which she handed to Christie
before cutting another for herself. "We can
use
these to sweep out the
dust."