“Tacos,” declared Benny, “are the very best part of Arizona.” He crunched his fourth beef taco happily.
“They are good,” agreed Jessie, adding shredded lettuce to her chicken taco. “Mr. McCrae, it was really nice of you to take us out to dinner.”
Across the table, Gerald McCrae chomped chips and salsa. “I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate finishing work on my cabin. James deserves a real Tex-Mex meal.”
Grandfather refilled Violet’s iced tea glass from the frosty pitcher. “It felt good to work in the open air. And I’m so glad my grandchildren had a chance to see the West.”
“Are we leaving?” Benny asked, concerned. They hadn’t found Jake yet. Or really looked for the Lost Dutchman’s mine.
“Not until the end of the week,” Grandfather replied. “There are still a few things to be done on the cabin. Then Gerald will drive us to Phoenix and we’ll fly home.”
“And you’ll take your RV to the cabin,” Henry said to Mr. McCrae. “We’ve sure enjoyed it.”
“I’ll come visit you in Greenfield,” said Mr. McCrae. “And you can borrow the RV again sometime.”
Benny would miss the New Boxcar. It was neat living in that miniature house on wheels.
“How about fried ice cream for dessert?” Mr. McCrae suggested.
“How can they fry ice cream?” Benny wanted to know. “Wouldn’t it melt?”
But when the toasted, coconut-covered ball was set in front of him, he didn’t speak until the glass dish was scraped clean.
“Are you going on the evening hike with us?” Violet asked Grandfather as they drove back to RV Haven.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Grandfather replied. “The desert at night is beautiful.”
The Aldens piled out of Mr. McCrae’s Jeep in front of the Chuck Wagon.
“See you tomorrow morning,” Gerald McCrae said to Grandfather, pulling away.
Grandfather went ahead to unlock the RV. “Since we’re hiking in the desert, we’ll all need warmer clothing,” he told them.
Janine Crawford was closing the restaurant. The dinner shift was over.
“Did Jake come in today?” Jessie anxiously asked the waitress.
Janine jingled the large bunch of keys she carried. “I don’t think so. To tell you the truth, I was too busy to notice.”
“Wasn’t Tom around to help?” Violet asked.
Janine made a snorting sound. “Is that man ever around when there’s work to be done?”
“He’s guiding the hike tonight, isn’t he?” Benny said. He didn’t want to miss seeing the desert at night.
Janine got into her car. “Don’t worry. If it’s something fun, Tom will be there.”
“She doesn’t like him very much, does she?” Henry observed as Janine’s car pulled away, crunching gravel.
Violet noticed something about the waitress. “Janine is tall,” she said. “As tall as any man. Do you suppose she was the person we saw on the rocks today?”
Henry nodded. “Good point, Violet. We can’t say for sure if the prowler or the stranger in the hills was a man.”
“All I know,” Benny said, “is that Jake hasn’t shown up in two whole days.”
“Sounds to me like the threat in Jake’s note came true. I think Jake’s in trouble,” Jessie said.
Back in the RV, the children got ready for the hike. Jessie and Violet tied sweaters around their waists. Henry and Benny changed into long-sleeved shirts. Since Benny’s shirt didn’t have a pocket on the front, he tucked his lucky rock into his jeans pocket.
They all gathered at the recreation center. The Clarks and the Garcias were already waiting, along with several other people from the campground. Luis joined the Aldens.
Tom Parker strode into the lounge area. He wore soft, knee-high boots and a long, suede duster with fringed sleeves. His silver belt buckle sported a large turquoise stone that matched the stone in his string tie. His cowboy hat was black, with a jaunty white feather.
“Wow,” breathed Benny. He gazed longingly at Tom’s boots. More than ever, he wished he were a cowboy.
“Don’t you look handsome,” Mrs. Clark teased. “Like a real guide from the Old West.”
Tom tipped his hat gallantly. “Thank you, ma’am. All right, pardners! Let’s hit the trail!”
The group moved outside to the western end of the campground. From the pavement they struck off on a path bordered with white pebbles.
Violet held Grandfather’s hand. “Look at the sunset,” she said. “I count five shades of purple.”
“It is spectacular,” Grandfather agreed.
She looked back once, at the trailers and RVs bathed in lavender light. She saw a pale, ghostly face in the window of the silver Airstream.
It was Mr. Tobias. He wouldn’t even leave his trailer to go on a hike. He didn’t seem to like people at all. Why was he so unsociable?
As the sun disappeared over the horizon, Tom talked about the desert.
“As soon as the sun goes down,” he said in a lecturing tone, “small animals come out to feed. It’s too hot during the day, so kangaroo rats and mice sleep. But when they come out, so do their enemies.”
Jessie slipped her arms into her sweater. “What kind of enemies?” she asked him.
“Foxes,” he replied. “Coyotes. Scorpions and gila monsters.”
“Monsters? There are monsters out here?” Benny reached into his pocket and touched his lucky rock.
Luis reassured him. “A gila monster is a large lizard. Don’t worry. It moves very slowly. And it eats insects.”
Mr. Clark asked Tom a question about the various cacti growing beside the trail.
“The saguaro cactus lives to be hundreds of years old,” Tom said knowledgeably. “It grows a branch every twenty years.”
“Twenty years!” Mrs. Clark was impressed.
Henry exchanged a look with Luis. “Didn’t you tell us the saguaro grows an arm every fifty years?”
Luis nodded. “I hate to say it, but Tom is wrong.”
Jessie was wondering why Tom sounded as if he was reading from a textbook. He had dropped his easygoing speech and his tone was stiff.
It was nearly dark when the group stopped at a circle of large, flat stones. In the center was a small, charred pit.
“Gather brush,” Tom ordered everyone. “Soon we’ll have a roaring fire. Then I’ll tell you some tall tales.”
Benny was proud to gather the most brush. “Are you going to start a fire with two sticks?” he asked Tom eagerly.
Tom knelt over the pit. “Takes too long, Benny,” he said. “Besides, there’s no sun to create a spark.” With a lighter, he nervously flicked at the brushpile again and again.
The fire would not catch.
“Can I try?” offered Mr. Garcia. “I’ve had a lot of experience with balky campfires.”
“So have I!” Tom barked. “I’ve lived in Arizona all my life—I know how to start a fire.”
Mr. Garcia backed away, taking a seat next to his wife.
Finally a flame licked over the brush. “Sorry,” Tom said to Mr. Garcia. “I guess the wind wasn’t right.”
“There is no wind,” Violet whispered to Henry as they all found a seat around the fire.
“I know,” Henry said. “It’s perfectly still tonight.”
Tom was definitely acting strangely.
“How about a story?” asked one of the other campers.
“Do you know one?” Tom joked. But he seemed distracted, as if he couldn’t think of a story of tell.
Benny raised his hand and waved it. “Tom, tell us about the Lost Dutchman’s mine.” That was a story they would all enjoy.
In the leaping firelight, Tom’s face twisted. “I don’t know that story, Benny. Maybe you could share it with us.”
Jessie’s jaw dropped. A native Arizonan like Tom didn’t know the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s mine?
Grandfather came to the rescue. He told a long, funny tale that made everyone laugh.
Benny was tired from that morning’s long ride in the hills. He leaned against Jessie’s shoulder and dozed off.
Henry, who was sitting next to Violet, gently nudged her.
“Look out there,” he whispered. “Do you see anything strange?”
Violet stared beyond the fire. The last light of the day silhouetted cacti and rocks on the ridge. Then she saw it, an armless saguaro. Or was it a man?
“That cactus,” she whispered back. “It looks like a person!”
“I wonder if it’s the prowler,” Henry said. “Watching us. Two of our suspects are right here, Mr. Clark and Tom. That leaves Mr. Tobias.”
“And Janine,” Violet said, reminding him the mysterious stranger could be a woman. “Maybe it’s just a person-shaped cactus.”
“You could be right. The night plays tricks on our eyes.” But the more Henry stared at the “cactus,” the more he was certain it was human.
Across the circle, Mr. Clark let out a big yawn. “Well, I think it’s about time to head on back to the bunkhouse.”
“I agree,” said Grandfather. “We all have another busy day tomorrow.”
Very busy, thought Jessie. Time was running out. They would have to find Jake.
Mrs. Clark came over. “Oh, your little brother fell asleep. He’s so cute. Here, let me help you with him.”
“That’s okay,” Jessie said, shaking Benny awake. “We’re fine.”
But Mrs. Clark insisted on taking Benny’s arm and helping him to his feet.
After a while, the cool desert air woke Benny up completely. He reached into his pocket to touch his lucky rock.
The pocket was empty.
“My rock!” he exclaimed. “I can’t find it!”
“Not your lucky rock?” Jessie cried. “Oh, Benny!”
Benny turned all his pockets inside out. “It’s missing!”
“You mean that shiny rock?” said Mrs. Clark. “Oh, it’s probably back at the trailer. Or the restaurant. You could have left it anywhere.”
“No, I didn’t,” Benny insisted. “I put it in my pocket before we left for the hike. And now it’s gone!”
It was too dark to search the area. Grandfather and the others were waiting for him.
Benny slipped his hand nervously into Jessie’s. He didn’t trust Mrs. Clark.
When he first showed her his gold rock, she had eyed it enviously. It was obvious she liked pretty things from all the shiny jewelry she wore.
Could Mrs. Clark have stolen his lucky rock? |