Read The Secret of Shadow Ranch Online
Authors: Carolyn G. Keene
The Secret of Shadow Ranch (3 page)
“WE’RE stranded!” Bess exclaimed in dismay.
George stared at the empty Thermos jug unbelievingly. “It can’t be!” said George. “Shorty Steele promised to fill that jug with water.”
“He must have forgotten,” said Bess. She peered up and down the road, but there was no vehicle in sight.
Nancy tried to sound unworried as she spoke. “We might as well get in the car and wait for the water in the radiator to cool off—or maybe somebody will come along and help us.” She replaced the radiator cap.
“If we’re not at the ranch for supper, Uncle Ed or someone will drive out to look for us,” Bess remarked hopefully.
Time dragged by as the girls waited. Nancy tested the water twice. It was still boiling hot. They might have to wait until evening and she was not keen about the idea of driving in a strange desert after dark.
“It’s like an oven in this wagon,” Bess complained.
“Hotter outside,” George mumbled.
Suddenly the girls spotted a speck moving toward them on the dusty road. With relief the girls watched it take shape as a pickup truck.
“It’s from the ranch!” George yelled, and dashed outside.
Bess followed, and when the truck stopped, she cried out, “Dave Gregory! You’re a lifesaver! I was about to die of thirst and sunstroke!”
With a grin the tall, rangy cowboy swung down from the truck cab. Quickly Bess introduced him to Nancy.
Dave’s handsome face grew stern when Bess and George explained what had happened. He pushed his hat to the back of his head, hooked his thumbs in his belt, and said, “Just what I figured. Three little dudes stuck high and dry. Mr. Rawley warned you to check your water supply before you went out on the desert!”
“But Shorty promised he’d take care of it,” said George.
Dave’s eyes narrowed for an instant, then he said casually, “Well, this is dangerous country—you check your
own
gear, if you know what’s good for you.”
own
gear, if you know what’s good for you.”
“We’re sorry you had to come out after us,” Nancy apologized.
“Mr. Rawley’s orders,” he said coolly, and strode to the truck.
In a minute Dave was back with a large can and a Thermos jug which he handed to the girls. While they drank gratefully, he poured water from the can into the radiator of the ranch wagon. He put back the cap and slammed the hood. The girls returned the jug and thanked him.
Dave gave a curt nod, walked to his truck, and swung aboard. By the time Nancy had the car started, the pickup had turned around and gone roaring down the road ahead of them.
“What’s eating him?” George burst out. “He was about as friendly to you, Nancy, as a prairie dog!”
Nancy smiled. “Never mind. I can see his point.” She wondered, however, what the trouble was. She had not even reached the ranch and already two people had been mysterious and unfriendly to her!
She followed the truck down the highway, and finally onto a road which wound through the barren hills at the foot of the mountains. It was nearly sunset when the girls entered a rocky pass and came out high above a valley. At the far side loomed a huge mountain with a group of low buildings nestled at its foot.
Bess pointed to them. “There’s the ranch, and that’s Shadow Mountain.”
“I see how they got their names,” said Nancy. “The great peak throws its shadow over the whole valley.”
Half an hour later, they drove through a weather-beaten wooden gate into the ranch yard. Nancy pulled up to the ranch house, a long, one-story adobe building with a vine-covered portico across the front.
To the north of the house were the corral and stable. Beyond these stretched a large meadow, bordered by a wire fence. In the opposite direction lay the bunkhouse, and south of this, some distance away, a smaller, enclosed meadow. In it cattle were grazing.
A stocky sunburned man and a slender dark-haired woman hurried out to greet the girls as they alighted. “Bess, George!” exclaimed Eliza beth Rawley. “We were so worried. And this must be Nancy! We’re very glad to see you, dear.” She gave her guest a hug and a smile, but the girl could see a strained look in her eyes.
Mr. Rawley took Nancy’s hand in his large one and said cordially, “I’m mighty glad to know you.”
“And I’m glad to be here,” Nancy replied. Her host gathered the suitcases and led the way toward the house.
Suddenly Nancy heard ferocious barking and turned to see a huge black dog bounding toward her. Behind him ran Dave Gregory.
“Chief!” he shouted. “Come back here!”
With a snarl the dog stopped short and began circling Nancy, snapping and barking. She did not move and the animal grew calmer. Then, as she spoke to him softly, he sniffed her hand. Moments later, Nancy was stroking his thick fur. He was a handsome black German shepherd, the largest Nancy had ever seen.
The others had been looking on in amazement. “Young lady,” said Ed Rawley, “I like the way you stood your ground. How about it, Dave?”
“Pretty good for a tenderfoot,” the cowboy admitted, then said, “Come along, Chief. Your job is chasing coyotes away from the chickens.” Obediently the dog trotted away toward the far end of the yard.
“The dog’s full name is Apache Chief,” said Elizabeth Rawley as she led the girls onto the portico.
Just then a slender girl with dark curly hair and big sad-looking eyes stepped from the house. Bess introduced her as their cousin Alice. She said hello to Nancy and shyly followed the others along the portico to Bess and George’s room, which Nancy was to share. Another door led into the main hallway of the house.
Mr. Rawley followed with the luggage. When the travelers had showered and put on fresh dresses, they heard a loud clanging from outside.
“That’s cook ringing for supper,” Alice explained to Nancy.
The girls hurried off to the kitchen at the far end of the house. Outside the screen door hung an iron triangle, still swinging. The big room was crowded with men who stood around a long oval table with a red-checkered tablecloth on it.
Nancy was introduced to a tall, thin man with sun-bleached hair. “This is Walt Sanders, my foreman,” said Mr. Rawley, “and some of my men.”
Sanders shook Nancy’s hand. Shorty Steele, a husky middle-aged cowboy, did the same. Next a good-looking red-haired cowboy was introduced as Tex Britten and his dark-haired pal as Bud Moore. With a glance Bess informed Nancy that these two were the nice cowboys she had told her about.
“Grub’s ready!” called a high, shrill voice. “Everybody sit down!” A small woman with frizzy gray hair and a white apron bustled from the stove to the table bearing a big platter of steaming meat.
“This is Mrs. Thurmond, our cook,” said the ranch owner’s wife.
In the confusion of taking seats, George had a chance to ask Shorty about the water he had promised to put in the station wagon. The cowboy’s suntanned face showed surprise. “No, ma‘am, I never said I’d do that,” he declared. “You musta mistook my meanin’.” He repeated the denial several times.
Nancy overheard Shorty and thought he was overdoing it. She wondered if “the misunderstanding” might not have been part of a plan to scare the girls away from the ranch.
After serving a hearty meal of roast beef, beans, corn fritters and salad, Mrs. Thurmond produced two large delicious apple pies. When the last bite had been eaten, Ed Rawley arose and there was silence.
“Okay, men,” he said brusquely, “who has first watch?”
“Me and Dave,” replied Shorty, and the two left the kitchen together.
Quietly the rest of the men arose and Mrs. Rawley led the girls through a door into a large living room. Like the kitchen, it ran from the front to the back of the house.
Among the comfortable furnishings were several slim, old-fashioned rockers and a round center table with a brass lamp on it. Bright-colored Indian rugs lay on the floor. At one end of the room was a huge stone fireplace.
“Tradition says that all the rocks in it have come from Shadow Ranch,” Alice told Nancy. She pointed out a smooth round one. “That’s an Indian grinding stone.”
At the opposite end of the room beside a door leading to the portico was a deep window. In front of it on shelves stood rows of colored antique bottles.
“This is a lovely place!” Nancy exclaimed.
“We’re sorry you can’t stay to enjoy it,” said Mrs. Rawley as her husband entered from the kitchen.
“Yes,” he added, “but it’s too dangerous. We’re under attack. We can’t figure out by whom or why. I only know that if the damage keeps on, we won’t be able to stand the expense. We’ll lose Shadow Ranch.”
Mrs. Rawley explained that the sheriff could not spare a man to be a full-time guard at the ranch, so her husband and the hands took turns standing watch.
“Perhaps you have enemies who want revenge on you,” Nancy suggested. “Or maybe your property has hidden value.”
The owner replied that he could think of nothing to support either theory. Nancy then described the man at the airport and told what had happened.
“The note’s in your knitting bag,” Bess spoke up. “I’ll get it!”
She hurried to the girls’ room and returned with Nancy’s knitting bag.
The young sleuth took out the note and crossed the room to give it to the rancher. Bess started to close the bag. Instead, she idly picked up the half-finished sweater. Underneath it lay a small object loosely wrapped in dirty brown paper.
“What’s this, Nancy?” she asked. As she lifted it, the wrapping fell off. For a moment Bess stared at the thing in her hand, then gave a little cry and flung it from her.
Nancy hurried to pick up the object. “The rattle from a snake,” she said, holding it up for the others to see.
“Ugh!” exclaimed Alice.
Nancy retrieved the wrapping paper. There was penciled writing on it.
“‘Second warning!’ ”
she read aloud.
“‘Second warning!’ ”
she read aloud.
Nancy turned to the grim-faced ranch owner and his wife. “Now more than ever,” she said earnestly, “I want to solve this mystery. Won’t you let me stay and help you?”
The rancher looked at her pleading expression and smiled. “We could certainly use a detective. And I’ve got to hand it to you, Nancy—you sure can keep your head.” He glanced at his wife. “What do you say, Bet?”
Elizabeth Rawley nodded soberly. “All right. The girls may stay, but they must promise to be very careful.”
Eagerly they agreed and George hastened to the telephone in the hall to cancel the plane reservations which she had made. In the meantime, Mr. Rawley said he thought the notes and the snake rattle should be taken to the sheriff the next morning. “I’ll go, Mr. Rawley,” said Nancy. “Maybe I should meet him.”
When George returned, Mrs. Rawley was saying, “Nancy, I think you should call us Aunt Bet and Uncle Ed. After all, you’ll be one of our family.”
Nancy grinned. “I’d love that, Aunt Bet.”
“I wish you were going to work on my mystery, too,” Alice said wistfully.
Nancy took the young girl’s hand. “Of course I will,” she said kindly, and Alice’s blue eyes lit up.
Nancy told the Rawleys that she would like to get started with her sleuthing immediately. “May I question your men about the phantom horse?”
“Yes, indeed,” Ed Rawley agreed.
One after another the ranch hands were summoned, but none of them could add anything to the information Bess and George had given Nancy.
“All of these men are new here,” Mr. Rawley told her after they had gone. “But Walt Sanders, Tex, and Bud are from an outfit in the next county. Dave’s from Montana. Shorty’s a drifter.”
After a little more talk, Bess stifled a yawn, then suggested that the girls go to bed. She led the way out a side door and down a hall to their room. Alice went into the next one.
Before long Bess and George were asleep, but Nancy lay wide-eyed, wondering about Dave Gregory. Why was he so hostile to her? Could he be one of the saboteurs? And what about Shorty? Was he to be trusted? Finally Nancy fell asleep.
Just after midnight she awoke suddenly, startled by a noise on the portico. She sensed someone pausing at the door to listen. Then stealthy footsteps moved on.
“Now what was that all about?” Nancy asked herself.
Quickly she arose, put on robe and slippers, and cautiously opened the screen door.
No one was nearby, but at the far end of the portico, she saw a dark figure slip into the kitchen.
“Why would anyone be going in there from outdoors at this time of night?” Nancy asked herself. “I’d better find out.”
She wondered if she should awaken the other girls but decided against this, and tiptoed along the portico to the kitchen. She opened the door and stepped inside the dark room.
The next instant an unearthly shriek split the air and someone seized her!
CHAPTER IV
A Red Clue
NANCY jerked one arm free from the attacker and fumbled for a light switch. Her fingers found it and the ceiling lamp over the dining table went on.
Clinging to her was Mrs. Thurmond, the cook! She wore an old-fashioned nightgown, and her head bristled with curlers. She let go of Nancy like a hot branding iron.
“You!” she exclaimed.
“Yes me,” Nancy replied, suppressing a smile. “I’m as surprised as you are, Mrs. Thurmond.”
“What’s the matter?” demanded Ed Rawley as he and his wife, wearing robes and slippers, hurried in from the living room.
Then Bess and George ran in from the portico, with Alice behind them. “Nancy! You all right?”
Soon Walt Sanders, in night clothes, rushed into the kitchen. A moment later Tex and Bud dumped in. Nancy wondered where Dave and Shorty were.
“Bud and I were on watch,” said the red-haired cowboy, “and were checkin’ the stable when we heard the ruckus. What’s up?”
Mrs. Thurmond told her story. She had been asleep in her room, a small extension off the kitchen, when she had been awakened by someone coming into the kitchen through the screen door.
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