Skeleton Lode (12 page)

“Maybe,” replied Arlo, “but he’ll have to reckon with Yavapai and Sanchez. They’re a pair of no-account owl-hoots, but they’ll be superstitious. I don’t think they’ll be comfortable in a cavern where three people disappeared in a matter of minutes.”

“Now that you mention it,” Dallas said, “that’s all it’ll take to drive Davis away from that canyon. Like it or not, when Sheriff Wheaton learns seven people are dead, he’ll have to ride out here. I wouldn’t want to have to answer the questions the sheriff will be askin’ Davis if he’s around. Those men on their way to town can verify the Apache killings, but who’s going to believe Kelly and Kelsey just vanished into thin air? And what about Mrs. Davis? By God, old Paiute’s sharper than any of us.”

“He takes some getting used to,” said Kelly. “After all his years in these mountains, do you think he has some … understanding with the Apaches?”

“We’ve wondered about that,” Arlo said. “I’d have a hard time believin’ the Apaches don’t know every crack and crevice, and I don’t doubt for a minute they know we’re here. We don’t know, and may never know how Paiute figures into it. Only Hoss could tell us.”

“I wish we could have come here while he was alive,” said Kelsey. “He told us so much about these mountains, about Arizona, I feel like we’ve just been away for a while, and that we’ve come home.”

“This
is
home,” Kelly said. “There’s nothing left for us in Missouri.”

“What of your mother’s people?” Dallas asked.

“Her parents are dead,” said Kelly, “and we’ve never been close to her brothers and sisters. We don’t even know how to reach them, to tell them she’s gone.”

“One thing you haven’t told us,” Kelsey said. “How did you know about the symbols on our half of the map?”

Arlo laughed. “Just a lucky guess. Here, take a look at our half.”

He handed the folded paper to Kelsey, and Kelly moved over beside her.

“Why, it’s the same map Uncle Henry sent us!” Kelly cried.

“Of course it is,” said Arlo, “and that’s why we think Hoss had a lot more in mind than just seein’ that you and Kelsey inherited his claim. We can follow this map as far as it takes us, but it won’t take us to the gold, if there is any. Has Davis tried to use his map?”

“I don’t think so,” Kelsey said. “There’s so little of it—just the few symbols—that he thinks it’s of no use to him without the part that you have. That’s why he tried so hard to follow you, and why he almost killed us all, trying to find you after you got away during the night.”

“It
does
seem that Uncle Henry had more on his mind that just leaving Kelsey and me an inheritance,” said Kelly. “He sent Gary Davis—through us—enough of a
map to lure him to the Superstitions, but left him believing he couldn’t find the gold because he had only half the map. That led him to you, and you’ve stolen us away from him. I just wish Uncle Henry knew how well it’s all working out.”

“Don’t get excited yet,” Arlo said. “We still haven’t found the gold.”

“But we’re free of Gary Davis,” Kelsey said, “and that’s worth more than all the gold in Arizona.”

The seven men who had survived the Indian attack and had given up the search for Hoss Logan’s mine went immediately to the sheriff’s office. Sheriff Wheaton wasted no time in relaying the grim news to the families and friends of the dead men. The bodies, having lain out in the Arizona sun most of the day, would have to be buried on the spot. The sheriff didn’t relish the idea of riding into the Superstitions alone, so he decided he must accompany the burial party. He had gone to the livery for his horse, when Barry Rust and R. J. Bollinger arrived. Footsore and weary, they didn’t realize the sheriff was there until Wheaton had seen them.

“Well, now,” said Sheriff Wheaton, “this is convenient. What can you boys tell me about that Apache attack this morning?”

“Nothing you don’t already know,” Rust said shortly. “Paulette Davis was killed, and our horses and pack mule were stolen.”

“You’re needin’ horses, then,” said the sheriff. “Well, I’m ridin’ out there with a burial party. You can travel with us. I’ll want to talk to Davis while I’m there.”

“Damn it,” Bollinger said when the sheriff had ridden away. “Gary’s gonna be mad as hell when we show up with the law.”

“Gary’s always mad as hell about something,” said Rust wearily. “It’ll be worth all the shouting and hell-raising just to hear him explain what became of Kelly and Kelsey Logan.”

“Yeah.” Bollinger grinned. “It’s gonna seem like,
what with their mama gone, old Gary decided to rid himself of the daughters. Who’s goin’ to believe they just flat disappeared? There’s nobody can tell the truth of it but you, me, Gary, and that pair of Mexicans. You reckon this lawman will believe any of us?”

Rust didn’t consider that worthy of a reply.

Two hours shy of sundown, Dallas and Arlo went up on the rim and turned their eyes west, peering through shimmering heat waves.

“It’s gettin’ late,” Dallas said. “They might not make it back today.”

“Maybe not the sheriff,” said Arlo, “but there’ll be somebody comin’ to bury those dead men. Nobody could stand getting close to the bodies in this heat, and tonight there’ll be coyotes.”

“Hey,” Dallas exclaimed suddenly, “I thought I saw somethin’ out there. It’s hard to tell, though, lookin’ into the sun, with the heat dancin’ a jig.”

They soon sighted a series of distant bobbing specks that finally became horsemen, fifteen of them in all.

“I’d bet one of them is Sheriff Wheaton,” said Arlo, “and that at least two more will be R. J. Bollinger and Barry Rust. The others will be gravediggers.”

“I’m surprised that Bollinger and Rust are ridin’ back with the others,” Dallas replied.

“I’d say Sheriff Wheaton will have some questions for Gary Davis. Especially when he learns Kelly and Kelsey have disappeared.”

“There had to be an uproar in town when those seven men showed up afoot, bringing news of the Apache killings,” said Arlo. “It’s just a village, not big enough for Bollinger and Rust to slip in, buy horses, and then leave without being seen. I’m surprised they could even
find
any extra horses.”

“I hope none of that bunch comes nosin’ around up here,” Dallas said. “I want Paiute to have a look at that skull that shows up at sunset. Kelly and Kelsey can see it too.”

“If there’s a chance of any of us being seen, we’ll have to skip this sunset,” warned Arlo. “Now that we have Kelly and Kelsey with us, it’s more important than ever that nobody knows where we are. Without the girls to claim the mine as an inheritance, Davis is just another claim jumper. With Kelly and Kelsey, we have control of the mine.”

“Legally,” Dallas said, “but out here the law belongs to the hombre with the fastest gun. I think when we’re down to the last hand, that hand will be holdin’ a Colt.”

Arlo and Dallas returned to their camp. It soon would be time to take Paiute, Kelly, and Kelsey up to the mountain rim for a few dramatic moments with the setting sun.

“We were starting to wonder about you,” said Kelsey.

“We’ve been watching for riders from town,” Arlo said, “and they’re on the way. We counted fifteen. We figure one of them is the sheriff, and another two are probably Barry Rust and R. J. Bollinger. The rest we’re thinkin’ are gravediggers. We’re hoping they’ll stay in the canyon and not come near the rim.”

“Is there a chance they might find us?” Kelly asked.

“Not unless we’re seen,” said Arlo. “We just don’t want them up here on the rim. Come sundown, we’re going to show you as much as your Uncle Henry’s map can tell you. We want Paiute there too.”

When it was time to go to the rim, Dallas went first to be sure the way was clear. Arlo came last, following Paiute, Kelly, and Kelsey. They all joined Dallas at the place where he and Arlo had seen the death’s head in the setting sun.

“There’s lots of other peaks out there,” Arlo said, “but there’s five that seem to stand almost shoulder to shoulder. Keep your eyes on that one in the middle. Once the setting sun dips toward the horizon, we’ll have only two or three minutes.”

Slowly the sun crept toward the horizon. The shadowy top of the skull appeared first, then the hollow eyes, the gaping mouth, and finally the bony chin.

“Dear God,” said Kelsey in awe, “it’s the skull from the map!”

Arlo touched Paiute’s arm, pointing to the image. The old Indian stumbled back, a look of sheer terror on his wrinkled face. He turned and literally ran to the canyon rim, disappearing into their hidden cavern.

“It’s going away!” Kelly cried.

The image vanished as it had appeared, the top of the skull fading first. As the sun dipped out of sight, shadows claimed the land and the distant peak became as barren as those surrounding it.

“We know where the mine is!” Kelsey said excitedly.

“I don’t think so,” replied Arlo. “There may be clues to the mine, and there may be much more than that. Paiute’s no coward, but there’s something about that mountain that just scared the hell out of him.”

“He can’t talk,” Dallas said, “but I was hopin’ we could learn something from him when he saw that death’s head.”

“We’re learning plenty from him,” said Arlo, “but I don’t think he knows what Hoss may have planned. Some Indians claim that the spirit voices of the old ones warn them in time of danger. Maybe these spirit voices are sending Paiute messages he can’t understand, and somehow this death’s head he just saw opened some doors.”

“My God!” Kelsey shivered. “Why don’t we just forget the gold and go away?”

“We can’t,” said Arlo. “Not without lettin’ Hoss Logan down. He dealt us a hand, and we have to play it out. None of us would ever be satisfied if we just rode away. I reckon we started this for Hoss’s sake, but we have to finish it for our own.”

“Uncle Henry told us you were cowboys,” Kelly said. “Don’t you have a ranch somewhere, with horses and cows?”

“No,” said Dallas sheepishly, “we …”

“The truth is,” Arlo interrupted, “we started out as cowboys, and we still know more about cows than we
like to admit. We thought we was comin’ up in the world when we started us a freight line. We got starved out of that, and ended up with two wagonloads of barrel whiskey. We took over the Gila Saloon, in Tortilla Flat, to sell the whiskey. One night last April somebody shot a slick-dealin’ gambler, there was a brawl, and the place burnt to the ground. We come out of it with our horses, saddles, and close to two hundred dollars, and that’s all.”

Dallas was profoundly embarrassed at Arlo’s frankness. The girls’ beauty seemed to have disarmed Arlo completely.

“We’d better get back to our camp,” Dallas said. “Paiute lit out like his shirttail was afire, and I’d like to see how he faces us.”

“I feel sorry for him,” said Kelsey. “He can’t talk, and so he can’t tell us what’s bothering him. I can’t understand why Uncle Henry never spoke of him to us.”

“Hoss never explained Paiute to anybody,” Arlo said. “He was always with Hoss, and everybody kind of took him for granted, includin’ us. They were like a pair of old lobo wolves, comfortable with one another, not much carin’ what anybody thought or said.”

“I believe Hoss had some way of talking to that old Indian,” said Dallas. “When he brought us the map and the letter from Hoss, Paiute just latched on to us, and he’s been around ever since. It’s like he’s been told to stick with us—and who could have told him that but Hoss?”

“Perhaps he knows more about the gold than you think,” Kelly said, “and when the time comes, he’ll tell you.”

“How?” Dallas asked. “He can’t talk.”

“Just because he hasn’t,” said Kelly, “doesn’t mean that he can’t.”

“That’s true,” Arlo conceded. “Nobody
told
us Paiute couldn’t talk. We never heard him speak, and as far as we know, nobody else has either. We just accepted his silence, figurin’ he wasn’t talking because he couldn’t.”

The anticipated confrontation with the old Indian never took place, for when they returned to their secluded
camp, Paiute was gone. The fire had burned down to a few coals, and in the faint light something glittered on the stone floor. The object proved to be an old watch, enclosed in a silver case.

“That’s Uncle Henry’s watch!” Kelly cried.

The watch was running, its ticking seeming loud in the silence of the cavern. With trembling hands, Kelsey opened the case. Inside the lid was a faded oval photograph of Kelly and Kelsey Logan.

“We were twelve when that picture was taken,” said Kelsey. “Daddy sent it to Uncle Henry at Christmas, and the last time we saw him alive, he let us open the watch and look at the picture.”

For a long moment the silence was unbroken except for the ticking of the watch.

“I don’t see what this has to do with anything,” Dallas said, “unless Paiute’s washing his hands of us and this is his way of sayin’
adios
.”

“I hope he hasn’t left us,” Kelly said. “Since he knew Uncle Henry, and he knows these mountains, I felt better with him around.”