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Authors: Alexander Key

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BOOK: Escape to Witch Mountain
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“I couldn't sleep now if I tried,” Tony admitted.

“Good. Then let's talk about Sister Amelia.” The big man glanced at Tia. “Young lady, in spite of what the Mother Superior said, are you still convinced that Sister Amelia received a letter with a double star on it?”

Tia nodded quickly, and Tony said, “If Tia feels certain about something, you can bet it's true.”

“Very well. If you believe it, I'll believe it. Without faith we can get nowhere. But I warn you: we'll need a lot of faith to locate an unknown person in an unknown place, in a mountain area that
extends for hundreds of miles through several states. Now, what have we to go on?”

At the thought of how little they had, Tony's mouth became grim again. But he said, “We almost have a name. It's not Caroway, Garroway, or Hideaway, but something in between. Hathaway, maybe. Anyway, I'm sure we can guess it. Then we have Tia's memory. If she keeps fishing back, she ought to dredge up something new. And there's her star box.”

“Don't forget the money,” Tia reminded him.

“Oh, the money!” he exclaimed. “Show it to him, Tia.”

“What money?” the priest asked.

“A wad of it she found in her box. The bottom is made of two pieces of leather, and the money was between them all these years.”

Father O'Day scowled at the worn folder Tia gave him, then opened it and stared at the money. “Ump!” he rumbled. “That's quite a bundle. I'd like to know what happened on your ship. Tia, have you any idea how long you were on board, or where the ship came from?”

Tia closed her eyes in concentration, then bit her lip. Slowly she shook her head. The priest sighed. “I'm just guessing,” he said, “but I've the feeling you were being brought over from abroad somewhere, and that the person bringing you died. Or possibly he was killed. Maybe the captain didn't know what to do with you, and was afraid of an investigation. So he turned you over to his good friend Deranian.”

Father O'Day shrugged. “But all that isn't helping us now. The main thing—” He stopped abruptly, frowning at the folder. Then he opened it and thrust the money aside. “This is part of an old road map,” he said slowly.

“Yes,” said Tony. “But I haven't had a chance to study it.”

“Well, it's worth study. It's torn from a larger map, and it shows part of the Blue Ridge area. Maybe it will tell us something.”

They bent over the map. Tony's attention was attracted by a thin penciled line following the main highway south from Washington, then branching west to the mountains. It ended in a small town on a secondary road with a circle drawn around it. Beside the circle there was smudged writing that ran to the torn edge. It looked like
Kiált Cast
.

Father O'Day gave a grunt. “Foreign language of some kind. Hmm. Not of the Latin group, but the first word seems almost familiar. The other, well, it may be only part of a word…” He grunted again. “But look at that route. If I were driving my own car down to—” He leaned over the map to read the name of the town marked. “Down to Stony Creek, it is, I'd angle over and take the other route. It's shorter, and you avoid all the heavy traffic and the big cities.”

“You've been there?” Tony asked hopefully.

“Not to Stony Creek. It's off the main road. But I've often taken that route to the mountains. I've a friend at a little place called Red Bank; we were on duty together in Vietnam. What I was getting at is this: I don't believe the person who marked the map was thinking of it as a car route.”

“Oh!” said Tony, in sudden comprehension. “He planned to travel by bus.”

“So it would seem. Of course, the map may mean nothing at all. Possibly it was just a convenient folder to slip the money in. But I don't think so. It's more likely that the map had a special purpose. The person who was bringing you here on a ship may have had it given to him, to show him how to reach his destination.”

“I like that better,” Tony said instantly. Excitement was suddenly rising in him. “It fits in with everything. I'll bet the man who wrote Sister Amelia lives somewhere near Stony Creek, and that we were on our way there before Mr. Deranian got us.”

“Maybe,” the priest said. “But we mustn't jump to conclusions. What we need now is time. Stony Creek will have to be investigated, and while that's being done you'll need a safe place to stay.”

He slid the money back into the folded map, gave it to Tia, and his big fingers began drumming on the table. A scowl deepened on his battered face, making it quite ferocious again.

Tony asked, “How can we investigate Stony Creek?”

“Oh, there are several ways. Police, church, or some welfare group. If I can get in touch with the right person. But our best bet is Augie Kozak.”

“Your friend at Red Bank?”

“Right. I don't think Augie would mind—he has time on his hands. And Stony Creek can't be too far from Red Bank. He could drive over and do some sniffing around—find out if the double star emblem is known to anyone, and check through the local phone book for names on the order of Caroway and Hathaway. But in the meantime…” He began to scowl again.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm trying to think of a safe place for you to hide. I'd rather keep you here—there's space, and extra cots—but I 'm afraid it's not safe. Didn't you say you tried to phone me in the afternoon from Hackett House, and that Mrs. Grindley wouldn't let you?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Well, that fact will be remembered. Trouble is, there's no good place near that I can send you. Most of the people I know are down-and-outers and drifters, and many of the rest are on the wrong side of the law. But I've something in mind. In the morning I'll do a little phoning and see what can be arranged.”

Father O'Day stood up. “I believe we've done all we can for the
moment. The next thing is to get some rest. Tony, those cots are in the storeroom yonder. If you'll give me a hand with them…”

In spite of the hour—and it was long past two by the clock Tony visualized—he did not fall asleep immediately. It had been a trying day, and the excitement of the evening was still with him. His mind raced. It touched briefly and uneasily upon Mr. Deranian and then sped on, lured by the promise of Stony Creek. He tried to visualize Stony Creek, but received nothing for his efforts but a blur of darkness broken by a single vague light; he realized he was seeing the place as it was at this moment, and that it was probably so small the streets were unlighted.

Suddenly he remembered how delighted Father O'Day had been with the dancing dolls, and his deep interest in the things Tia and he, Tony, could do. No one else had ever felt that way. Their abilities had seemed unnatural to poor Granny, and any mention of them had upset her. And Granny wasn't the only one. In years past, before they became more careful, others had been upset or even frightened.

All in all, he thought, with the way most people reacted to you, it was a little like being born with too many fingers, or some other defect you felt you ought to hide. So of course they'd hidden the magic—they'd even tried to suppress it until, when they got older, Tia had read all about it and found it wasn't anything to be ashamed of. In fact it was something that, as Father O'Day had said, belonged to the future.

Suddenly, for the first time in his life, Tony wondered what he and Tia could accomplish if they really tried. The possibilities startled him.
What are we?
he wondered.
Where did we come from?

It was only by a determined effort that he finally made himself go to sleep.

The next thing he knew it was morning, and Tia was shaking him and whispering urgently, “Hurry and get dressed—we've got to leave! Mr. Deranian is outside with a policeman!”

JOURNEY

I
t was late in the morning and breakfast was on the table, but there was no time for it now. Tony flew into his clothes and caught up his bag. Tia, he saw, was already dressed and ready to leave. She darted past him into the storeroom, urged on by Father O'Day, who was struggling into his coat before his collar was fastened.

“Straight through to the garage,” the big man ordered. “Get in the back of the car and crouch down.”

In the garage was a small black sedan. Tony scrambled into the rear of it with Tia while the priest unlocked and threw back the door opening into the alley. Seconds later the sedan had swung right into the alley and was racing for the distant cross street.

“They're probably coming on around this way now,” Father O'Day muttered. “But I think we have a few seconds to spare. I hate to run—only there's no arguing with a court order, and I'm afraid that's what Deranian has.”

“He sure works fast,” Tony said unhappily. “Who saw him first?”

“Tia did. Had no idea he was out there, though I was already up and dressed, praise be—save for my coat and collar.” The priest was still trying clumsily to fasten his round collar, which had one end adrift in the back. Tony reached up, and with a deft movement of his fingers managed to secure the loose end.

The car slowed momentarily, then whirled into the thin traffic of the cross street. Tia whispered, “I woke up scared, so I knew something was
wrong. When I heard someone knocking on the outside door, I peeked through the big room and saw them trying to get in. Mr. Deranian was talking to a policeman, and behind them was another man. I couldn't see very well. There was a green cab waiting for them.”

Tony frowned. “Would you recognize the other fellow if you saw him again?”

“I think so. He was wearing a pale-gray suit, and he seemed a lot heavier than Mr. Deranian.”

The sedan slowed for a traffic light, stopped for agonizing seconds, then shot forward and whipped around another corner. Father O'Day said quickly, “Tony, sneak a look back, but keep your head down. I saw a cab turning into the far end of the alley before we left it. If it contains our hornless adversary, we may have troubles.”

Tony raised up cautiously until he could see the street intersection they had just left. Presently he said, “You're right. It's a green cab, and they're following us.”

“Has he still got the policeman with him?”

“He sure has.”

The priest made a rumbling sound deep in his chest. “That's not so good. If we shake them, they can stop at any call box, and in two minutes have every police car in the area looking for us. We'll have to pull something out of the bag. Now listen carefully:

“I'm going to step on it and put some distance between us. When I swing around a corner, get ready to jump. I'll stop long enough to let you out. There'll be a drugstore on the corner with a side entrance… Get in there as fast as you can, and stay there till that cab goes by. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. Then you think we should head for the bus station and get tickets for Red Bank?”

There was a startled grunt. “How did you guess?”

“Seems like the most logical move—if your friend Mr. Kozak is willing.”

“Don't worry about Augie. They don't come better. I was trying to put through a call to him when that crew behind us interrupted. Anyway, I'll get him on the phone as soon as possible, and tell him to be on the lookout for you. He's a little dark fellow; nice family with two kids. Lives on an apple orchard he owns—place is four miles north of Red Bank on Cahill Road, right on the edge of the mountains.”

As he spoke, Father O'Day had been dodging through the traffic, gradually increasing speed. Now suddenly, with a murmured prayer, he ran a red light and raced for the next corner. “Drugstore's ahead,” he said. “Get set. Brace yourself as I turn the corner, but don't open the door till I brake. Good luck to you, and phone me if I'm needed—number's Waterview 624-6021. Here we go…”

There was hardly time to thank the big man for his help. Tires squealed as the car took the corner; Tony clung to the seat, then his hand shot to the door handle as he felt the brakes take hold.

In the next breath they were out of the car and running for the safety of the drugstore.

Tony did not think of Winkie until later, when they were in a cab heading for the bus station. With a sudden pang, he glanced at the shopping bag Tia was holding in her lap. It didn't have quite the bulge it had had last night.

“What's the matter?” Tia asked.

“Winkie.” Then he added hastily, “Now don't be upset. It's better if he got left behind. You know we couldn't possibly travel with him—he'd get us into more trouble…”

“Oh, Tony, do you really believe that?” She peered at him with a curious look on her small elfin face. “Because if you do, you'd better change your mind. People have to be
very
careful about what they believe. I've read stacks and
stacks
of things about beliefs and believing, and you'd be surprised—”

“Hey, what's the lecture about?”

“Winkie, of course. I told you he was a very special cat, and you've got to believe it. Who do you think woke me up this morning?”

“You telling me Winkie woke you up?”

“Of course! If he'd been a minute later… Anyway, I woke up scared because of him, and thank goodness I put on my good slacks instead of that worn-out dress. I had a feeling we'd be going on a trip.” She stopped, wrinkled her nose at him, then whispered into her bag. There was a faint meow, and Winkie thrust his sleek black head into sight.

BOOK: Escape to Witch Mountain
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