Missing on Superstition Mountain (9 page)

The number 44 was painted on a metal mailbox toward the end of the road. A long gravel drive led to a small white house with a red pickup truck parked next to it. Simon rode his bike partway down the driveway and stopped, facing the front door. The others followed.

“Okay, you guys, let me do the talking,” he instructed them.

Delilah assessed the house. “I don't know,” she said. “Do you think it's okay? I mean, he's a stranger.”

Henry wavered. Their mother would certainly not think it was okay.

“You don't have to come if you're scared,” Simon said impatiently.

“Yeah, we're not scared,” Jack said.

Henry was a little scared. “I think it's okay if we stay together,” he ventured. Before they could make up their minds, the door opened and a tall man wearing glasses stepped onto the porch.

“You guys need something?” he called to them. He looked at them more closely. “You're pretty far from the library.”

“Oh!” Henry cried. “It's that guy! The one with the computer.”

“He's not a stranger,” Jack announced, promptly pedaling right up to the porch steps. Henry hesitated, then followed him, with Simon and Delilah close behind.

“Are you Emmett Trask?” Simon asked, as their four bikes skidded to a stop, spraying gravel.

He studied them curiously. “Yep, that's me. What can I do for you?”

“The president of the Superstition Historical Society?” Simon continued.

Emmett Trask raised his eyebrows. “Not anymore. Why?”

Henry slumped in disappointment.

“We came all this way for nothing!” Jack protested.

“What are you looking for?” Emmett asked. “I can give you the name of the new president. But you probably already met her.”

Henry and Simon exchanged bewildered glances.

“Where?” Delilah asked.

“At the library. It's Julia Thomas, the director.”

CHAPTER 13

MOUNTAIN MYSTERIES

H
ENRY SHUDDERED.
The black-haired librarian! One thing seemed certain:
she
would never help them find the missing page.

“
THAT
lady?” Jack cried. “The creepy one?”

Emmett laughed.

“She wasn't very helpful,” Delilah told him. “She took the book we wanted and wouldn't let us check it out. It was a book from the historical society.”

“
Missing on Superstition Mountain
?” Emmett said. “I've got a copy.”

“You do?” Simon asked. “Can we borrow it?”

“I'll give you one. I've got at least a dozen of them. That was the historical society's main research project while I was president. But first, tell me how you found me.”

“We saw your name in the list of historical society members and looked you up in the phone book,” Henry said.

“So Julia didn't send you here? The librarian?”

Henry shook his head.

“Good,” Emmett answered, leaning against the side of the house. “Why are you so interested in
Missing on Superstition Mountain
?”

When Simon paused, Henry jumped in. “We just moved here, and we're trying to find out more about the mountain.” And then, because Emmett Trask didn't seem like a parent—didn't seem like he'd fuss and scold and pester them with warnings—“We're not allowed to go up there, but nobody will tell us why.”

Emmett snorted. “I'll tell you.”

They looked at him expectantly, and he took a breath, as if he weren't sure where to begin. “Well, there have been over twenty disappearances or deaths on the mountain. Which makes it not a safe place for anyone, let alone kids. Now, I'm sure there are rational explanations for what happened up there, but it's not always obvious what they are.…” Henry thought of the list in the book; the people missing and murdered. It certainly wasn't obvious to him what the rational explanation would be.

“What's ‘rational'?” Jack asked.

“It means logical,” Henry told him, and Emmett elaborated, “Within the bounds of human knowledge. Something that has a natural or human cause … not supernatural.”

Henry doubted that Jack understood any of that, but he sat back on his bike seat, seeming satisfied.

Emmett continued, “But the thing is, some people around here don't like rational explanations. They'd rather have a supernatural one. So they say the mountain is haunted or cursed, under a spell.” His mouth turned down in disgust. “That's why I left the historical society. Those folks aren't interested in historical research anymore. It's turned into a club for ghost hunters and treasure seekers.”

Frankly, Henry thought ghost hunting and treasure seeking sounded much more interesting than historical research. What if there were ghosts on Superstition Mountain? He remembered the feeling of being watched, the prickles on the back of his neck.

“Treasure?” Simon asked, his face brightening. “What treasure?”

Emmett shook his head. “Oh, there probably isn't any. But the rumor is there's a gold mine, the Lost Dutchman's Mine, hidden somewhere on the mountain. It's supposed to be one of the richest veins of gold anywhere in the West. People have been searching the mountain for over a hundred years trying to find it.”

A gold mine! Henry pictured the gold mines in movies and books, where people walked into a cave and discovered that the walls, floor, and ceiling were sparkling with precious gold.

“
GOLD
!” Jack cried, bouncing on the toes of his sneakers and almost falling off his bike. “Wow!”

Simon flashed Henry a quick glance, and asked Emmett, “Why do people think that?”

Emmett looked annoyed. “You know, if that's what you guys are interested in, you really should talk to the historical society. That's all they care about these days—figuring out the location of the Lost Dutchman's Mine.”

“But it's gold!” Jack insisted. “If we found it, we'd be
RICH.
”

“Yeah, that's the idea,” Emmett said. “But people have been looking for that mine for over a century and haven't found anything. If you ask me, it's a big distraction from the real research we should be doing, about the Apaches and the early settlers … the Spanish influence in this area.”

Which all sounded mind-numbingly boring compared to a hidden gold mine, Henry thought. Who wanted to learn about early settlers when you could be searching for the biggest pile of gold in the country?

Simon leaned over the front of his bike, not the least put off by Emmett's dismissive comments. “But
why
do they think there's a gold mine on the mountain? And whose gold is it?”

Emmett ran his hand through his hair. “There's no question that there's gold on the mountain. Plenty of people have found gold ore, starting with the Spanish in the 1500s. But it was pretty well tapped out in the 1800s; I doubt there's anything left to speak of. As to who it belongs to … well, I guess you'd have to say it belonged to the Apaches originally. Or to the mountain. But as far as the Lost Dutchman's Mine, that belonged to Jacob Waltz.”

“Waltz? That's the name of my street!” Delilah exclaimed.

“Most of the streets around here are named for historical people or places,” Emmett told her. “Waltz wasn't a Dutchman—as a matter of fact, he was German. Came here in the mid-1800s. Supposedly, he and his partner discovered gold on Superstition Mountain and struck it rich. They kept the mine a secret, and after their deaths, nobody ever found it.”

“And people have died looking?” Simon asked. “That's the big secret, the reason our parents won't let us go up the mountain?”

“Well, that and a few other things,” Emmett replied.

What other things? Henry wondered. “How did people die?” he asked, but even as he said it, he realized that he knew the answer: they were shot, or fell into canyons, or had their heads cut off. That wasn't the important question. The important question was
why
did people die? Why was the mountain so dangerous a place that to climb it meant to risk your very life?

Jack blurted out, “Yeah, our mom says there are mountain lions and rattlesnakes! Did people get
EATEN
?”

Emmett shook his head. “There are mountain lions and rattlesnakes, but they haven't killed anyone lately, to my knowledge. Sometimes it's a rock slide. Or a flash flood that fills a canyon and drowns someone. There are a lot of steep slopes … people have fallen. But more often, they just get lost on the mountain without enough water. They die of dehydration.”

Henry felt a tremor go through him, remembering their trip up the mountain and Jack falling into the hidden canyon where the three skulls perched.

Emmett sat down on the top step of the porch. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, dislodging his glasses, and for a moment, he looked not smart and earnest and teacher-ish, the way he had when they first saw him in the library, but vaguely goofy, like a big kid himself.

“And then there are the deaths that haven't been fully explained,” he said. “People get worked up over those. That's why there's so much talk about the mountain being haunted.” He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “But the truth is, whenever there's a scarce, valuable resource—like gold—and a bunch of people wanting it, there are reasons to get rid of the competition.”

Henry thought again of the long list of names in
Missing on Superstition Mountain
, each of them a real person whose life had ended unexpectedly. Violently. Too soon.

“You mean people have been murdered,” Simon said, unfazed.

“Well, yes. Some have died of gunshot wounds. Some have been decapitated.”

That word again. Delilah stiffened, and Henry pictured the bleached skulls. “Did they catch the people who did it?” he asked softly.

“No, not in most cases. This is rough, isolated country … lots of places to hide for someone who doesn't want to be found.” Emmett smiled suddenly. “There used to be a fellow in Superstition who was a pro at hiding in the mountains. He made a lot of money gambling in the little towns around here, quite a cardplayer. When the people he beat at poker came looking for him to get their money back, he would hightail it into the mountains for weeks at a time. They never found him.” His smile broadened. “So I guess you could say Superstition Mountain has saved a few lives too.”

Henry shivered. He couldn't imagine anyone staying overnight on the mountain. He thought of how the wind would sound blowing through the canyons in the black night. “What happened to that guy?” he asked.

Emmett sighed. “He died a few months ago.” Then, seeing their faces, “Don't worry, it wasn't anything suspicious. I don't know how old he was, but he'd led a long, full life. Used to be a scout for the cavalry, actually.”

Henry gasped, and Simon interjected, “Wait a second—that's our uncle!”

CHAPTER 14

“THEY WEREN'T THE SAME…”

E
MMETT STARED AT THEM.
“Huh?”

“Hank Cormody! He's our uncle.”

“Yeah,” Jack added. “We just moved into his house.”

Delilah turned to Henry in wonderment. “Everybody knows your uncle,” she said. “The lady at the library, now this guy…”

Emmett was still looking confused. “Hank Cormody was your uncle? But you're way too young—”

“Well, he's our
great
-uncle,” Simon amended. “But we're still related to him.”

“And you're living in his house?”

Simon nodded. “We inherited it.”

“Well, isn't that something! So you're Hank Cormody's family. It's funny, you know, because he pretty much kept to himself, but Hank was a legend around here.” Emmett stood up, swinging the door wide. “Here, why don't you come in? I'll get that booklet for you.”