The Mystery of the Headless Horse - Arden William - Страница 25

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“Some choice!” Pete moaned. “I don’t want to stay, and I don’t feel like digging.”

“If we’re going to stay all night,” Jupiter said, “I suggest we put our minds to work on our puzzle. Ashes… Dust… Rain… Ocean.”

“It’s still gibberish to me,” Pete said flatly.

“Unintelligible perhaps,” Jupiter declared, “but I’m certain it’s not gibberish. Let’s take another look at the words.”

In the small cul-de-sac, they squatted and looked again at the four Spanish words. Jupiter studied them thoughtfully.

“Diego was right about the four words not being evenly spaced,” the stocky leader said. “ ‘Ashes’ stands alone, and so does ‘Dust’, but ‘Rain’ and ‘Ocean’ are closer together. There could even be a mark between them, sort of like a dash, as if Don Sebastian wanted them to be read together. So the message might really read: ’Ashes… Dust… Rain-Ocean.’ Now what does that tell us, fellows?”

“Nothing,” Pete said promptly.

Diego said, “The rain and ocean are both water?”

“Yes.” Jupiter nodded. “That’s one thing they are.”

“Maybe that rain and ocean are really the same thing?” Bob suggested. “I mean, we know that rain really comes from water vapour rising from the ocean. It turns to water again in the sky, and falls as rain to make rivers and things.”

“All right,” Jupiter agreed. “The rain comes from the ocean, and then goes back to the ocean. How does that connect to dust or ashes?”

“Dust could come from ashes,” Diego said. “But I guess it doesn’t have to.”

“Ashes don’t come from dust,” Pete pointed out. “No way.”

“No,” Jupiter said slowly. “Keep on thinking, fellows. There must be some connection, some common clue, in the four words. What single message could they all have given to Jose?”

None of the other boys said anything.

“Well,” the stocky leader said at last, “keep trying, and meanwhile we’ll go back to the small cave and see if we can dig our way out.”

“We can use those old rifles for digging,” Pete said.

Bob looked into his saddlebag of tools. “Not much of use in here, but we could hack at the dirt with my screwdriver.”

Back in the outer cave, the boys examined the softened dirt to the left of the blocked entrance. It was damp and sticky.

“It’s been raining a whole week,” Pete pointed out, “and this dirt is just damp. There must be a lot of it between us and the outside. Well,” he added with a grin, “let’s find out!”

Using the old gun barrels, the screwdriver, and some small, flat rocks they found, the boys started to dig. At first the adobe soil was stiff and lumpy and tended to stick. Then, as the boys dug deeper, the soil got wetter. Every time they dug a foot, the heavy clay oozed back, and they had to dig faster to make any headway. And every few feet they struck rocks and boulders that had to be dug out before they could move on.

They sweated in the cave, and their faces and clothes became smeared with the heavy adobe soil. As the hours passed they grew tired and hungry. Finally they were too exhausted to keep digging. They fell asleep and didn’t wake up till dawn — dawn by their watches. In the cave it was still night. The batteries in Bob’s torch were giving out, and there wasn’t much light to see by. All four boys went back to work even harder.

It was seven-thirty when Pete cried out.

“I see light!” he yelled.

Frantically, with renewed vigour, they all plunged into the narrow hole they had made and dug like mad. The opening, and the welcome light, grew larger, and then they were through! Babbling happily, they crawled out one by one and stood in the rain on the open slope of the high ridge.

“Wow!” Pete cried, “listen to the noise!”

The violent roar of the flooded creek seemed to shake the whole countryside. Diego pointed towards the dam.

“Half the dam’s collapsed!” he cried, “and — ”

“The whole mound’s gone now!” Bob saw.

“Look!” Jupiter exclaimed, pointing down into the arroyo.

Below them, the arroyo that went down to the hacienda a mile away wasn’t an arroyo any more. It was a deep, raging creek. The mass of water sweeping over the broken dam had washed out the mound that separated the creek from the arroyo. Now the torrent of water flowed down towards the sea not in one creek but in two!

“Gosh, the water must be running right past your hacienda now,” Bob said to Diego.

On the steep slope of the ridge, Jupiter’s eyes suddenly gleamed.

“Fellows!” he said, almost in wonder. “That’s the answer!”

“What answer, First?” Pete and Bob cried.

Jupiter started to speak, but suddenly pointed along the ridge in the direction of the distant county road.

“Some men coming!” he exclaimed. “If it’s those cowboys —!”

Pete shaded his eyes. Four men were running towards them along the trail through the ridges to the south — the same trail that the boys had taken to the hacienda after fighting the brush fire a week ago.

“It’s my dad and Mr. Andrews!” Pete said. “They’re with the sheriff and Chief Reynolds!”

The four boys ran down the ridge to meet the men.

“Pete!” Mr. Crenshaw cried. “Are you all okay?”

“We’re fine, Dad,” Pete said, grinning at his father.

Mr. Andrews fumed. “What were you doing out here all night!”

“We couldn’t help it, Dad,” Bob said, and told him about being trapped in the cave. “The mudslide opened it and then closed it on us. But we found out what happened to Don Sebastian Alvaro and those three American soldiers!”

“And solved another old mystery.” Chief Reynolds smiled.

“But worried their parents half to death!” the sheriff said sternly. “Pico Alvaro told us about your wild-goose chase trying to help save his ranch, and we’ve all been looking for you half the night! Your uncle, Jupiter Jones, is with his two helpers and Mr. Norris and his men, searching the other side of the creek! You had better tell us just how you got into that cave!”

“Yes, sir,” Pete said. “We — ”

Jupiter broke in. “We’ll explain on the way to the hacienda, sir. I don’t want my uncle to be worried any further. Could you radio him and the others to meet us at the burned hacienda?”

“All right, but you had better have a good story. I can’t have reckless boys running loose in my back country!”

The sheriff used his walkie-talkie to instruct everyone to meet at the Alvaro hacienda, and the boys told their story as they walked down the trail through the ridges. They described their search for the sword and their troubles with the three cowboys. By the time they had finished, the group had reached the county road, crossed the bridge over the former arroyo, and arrived at the hacienda.

Uncle Titus, with Hans and Hans’s brother, Konrad, were already there. Behind him, Mr. Norris stood near the Norris ranch wagon with Skinny, the manager Cody, and two other men.

A deputy sheriff waited in the sheriff’s car. Uncle Titus hurried up to Jupiter. “Jupiter? Are you all right? Is everyone?”

“We’re all okay, Uncle Titus.”

Skinny walked up with Mr. Norris and Cody.

“Boy, how dumb can you guys get?” Skinny sneered.

“That’s enough, Skinner,” Mr. Norris snapped. “I’m glad you’re all safe, boys.”

“Now tell us,” the sheriff said, “why were those three men chasing you?”

“Because they framed Pico for starting the brush fire,” Pete said eagerly, “and maybe burned the hacienda!”

Cody snorted. “Alvaro started the fire. He’s too irresponsible to own a ranch around here.”

“After tomorrow he won’t.” Skinny laughed.

Mr. Norris snapped, “I told you to be quiet, Skinner! You too, Cody.” He looked at Jupiter. “Can you prove that Pico Alvaro didn’t cause the brush fire, Jones?”

“We know he didn’t, Mr. Norris,” Jupiter said. “Pico had his hat at three p.m. that day, when he was with us at the central school. Since the sheriff has said that the campfire was started before three p.m., Pico couldn’t have lost his hat at that campfire.”

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