Professional Documents
Culture Documents
The Secret
of
Black Cat Gulch
By
BETSY ALLEN
NEW YORK
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
Westward Ho!
The Mysterious Stranger
Casa Bonito
The Turquoise Shop
A Man with Four Fingers
At the Little Dipper
Fruitless Journey
Black Cat Gulch
Uproar at the Inn
Night Maneuver
Jeff Rides Alone
MissingOne Archaeologist
Connie Joins a Posse
In the Abandoned Mine
The Chase Begins
Connies Evidence
On the Santa Fe Platform
1
14
26
38
51
63
77
88
101
114
125
138
146
160
171
182
193
CHAPTER
Westward Ho!
far away.
It is! Connie cried, delighted rather than
alarmed. Practically out of the United States. At
least, just on the edge. Santa Fe. She tasted the
name with the tip of her tongue. Indians. Adobe.
Sagebrush. Mesas. She tried to think of all the word
pictures New Mexico recalled.
And, as she said them, adventure rang in every
syllable. Gone, for Connie, was the lazy pleasure of
a summer vacation at home. Kit knew, even before
her twin had consulted their parents and won their
approval of the unexpected assignment, that she
already was mentally on her way.
If Kit didnt share Connies thirst for far horizons,
young Tobythe baby of the familydid. He
looked at his older sister with unconcealed envy as
the bustle of departure made her the center of
attention.
Lucky you! he muttered. Bring me home a
tomahawk or somethin, will you, Connie?
I dont think the Indians of New Mexico were
the tomahawk type, but Ill see what I can do about
an arrowhead, Connie replied, grinning.
Arrowheads! Toby snorted in disgust. I can
find them in our woods right here.
Fortunately Mrs. Blair and Kit were less
demanding. They made polite murmurs about the
turquoise and silver jewelry Jane Trotters aunt had
4
said.
Im from Pennsylvania too, the young man
said. Philadelphia.
Philadelphia? So are we, Georgia Cameron
murmured. It seemed to offer a basis for
acquaintanceship that was quite substantial. The
young man introduced himself.
His name was attractiveJeff Chandlerand he
was attached to the Philadelphia Museum of Natural
History, he explained over dessert and coffee. Im
working for the museum summers while I study for
my doctorate, he told the girls.
Youre an anthropologist, perhaps? Georgia
probed.
An archaeologist, the young man said.
Connie stifled a yawn. Either profession sounded
dry as dust to her. She was glad she was in such a
young and vitally alive business as advertising.
When Georgia excused herself to return to her
copy writing, Connie couldnt resist asking Jeff
Chandler a question.
What do you find thats especially exciting in
the study of antiquity? I should think, after a certain
time, it would get dull.
Never! Sincerity rang in the archaeologists
tone. He took off his glasses and polished them on
his dinner napkin, and his clear blue eyes crinkled
with amusement. Its a fascinating business
12
13
CHAPTER
Mystery?
Connies ears pricked up. No longer did she feel
any urge to yawn. Nor did Jeff need great powers of
persuasion to induce her to accompany him back to
the club car after dinner. Connie trotted along as
willingly as a curious puppy tugging on a leash.
As the train plunged ahead through the night,
cutting across one corner of the state of Missouri,
the young archaeologist told Connie an interesting
tale.
Last spring, he said, a Philadelphia lawyer,
who happens to be a friend of my family, came
home from a western trip with a curious old
ornament of jet and turquoise mosaic which he had
picked up in a little Indian jewelry store in Taos, a
hill town about sixty miles above Santa Fe.
Taos? cried Connie. Why, thats where were
14
going!
Jeffs eyebrows raised with interest and pleasure,
but he forebore from saying the obvious What
luck! Instead he continued with his story. This
lawyer, Mr. Warner, brought the ornament over to
show Dad one night, because he thought it quite
unusual, and I asked him if I might take it to the
curator of our museum. It certainly looked
uncommon to me.
Our curator, Mr. Courtlandt, got really excited
about the piece. He said that some similar ornaments
had been found back in 1921 in the ruins of Chaco
Canyon, which, as you probably know, was a real
treasure chest of aboriginal American history.
Connie shook her head, feeling rather ignorant,
but she said, Go on.
Well, we wrote to the shop where Mr. Warner
picked up the piece. As a matter of fact, we wrote
three times, but we never got a reply, which, in
itself, seems odd.
Connie considered, cocking her bright head to
one side and looking at Jeff quizzically. Not very
odd. Small-store proprietors are often disorderly
about their business correspondence, arent they?
But this chap wasnt Indian himself, according
to Mr. Warner. He was American, apparently a
rather rough old type. After all, if a guys in
business, he ought to answer his mail.
15
plaza, as did all others, and here Jeff parked the car
in the likeliest patch of shade.
Im perishing of thirst, announced Georgia.
Before we do a thing, lead me to water.
Connie looked around hopefully for a drugstore,
but Jeff pointed out a little restaurant with an odd
Spanish name which he translated for them. The
Little Dipper. That should be just the spot. Ill buy a
sandwich, too, just to give them some business.
In the middle of the morning? questioned
Georgia.
Its almost noon, and frankly Im famished. It
must be the seven-thousand-foot altitude.
Together they trooped into the eating place, and a
pretty, dark-haired girl in a red cotton skirt and
white blouse came toward them at once. Buenos
das, seoritas. Then she saw Jeff and added,
seor.
She led them to a bare table, scrubbed white, and
brought them water while Jeff considered a simple
menu. He frowned at the assortment of Mexican
dishes. Could I just have a fried egg sandwich? he
asked.
Certainly. The girl apparently spoke English as
well as her native tongue. She had a soft, educated
voice, and nice hands. Connie looked up at her and
smiled.
The girl returned the smile in a friendly,
22
25
CHAPTER
Casa Bonito
37
CHAPTER
fire.
It was from just such local people that Georgia
knew she would get the best ideas, and she agreed
readily, to Connies delight, because she was really
enjoying herself.
This is fun, isnt it? Connie whispered to
Georgia while Mr. Norman was busy in the shop.
Lots of fun, Georgia agreed. Mr. Norman is
nice, isnt he? So enthusiastic and informal.
Everybody seems hospitable out here, Connie
added, thinking of Mrs. Morgans reception. But
then she remembered the womans reaction to Jeffs
description of the man with the missing finger and a
reservation arose in her mind. She decided to
question Mr. Norman about the owner of the Casa
Bonito if she found an opportunity. She was curious
about her reputation in the community.
The opportunity came a little later, as the jewelry
trader poured coffee from a thin-necked, tall copper
pot. Where are you stopping? he asked casually.
At the Casa Bonito, Georgia said.
Thats an attractive inn, dont you think?
Very. Were delighted with it.
Connie accepted a cup of coffee. Mrs. Morgan
has been so nice to us. Do you know her?
Dolly Morgan? Mr. Norman looked amused
that she should ask. Certainly. Everybody knows
Dolores. Shes quite a character in these parts.
44
50
CHAPTER
that help?
Afterward Connie couldnt remember who
proposed what, but everyone seemed apprehensive
and eager to be helpful, though a little at a loss. It
was Mrs. Morgan herself who finally took command
of the situation.
Enlisting the help of two middle-aged men, who
were apparently traveling with their wives on a
pleasure trip, she had Jeff moved to his own room,
where the wound could be inspected in a better light.
Then a tall, rawboned young woman who professed
to be a nurse stepped forward.
If youd just let me look at the young man,
please.
She bathed and bandaged Jeffs head efficiently.
Just a gash, she announced. Nothing serious. But
hell have a bit of a headache when he wakes up.
Mrs. Morgan relayed the news to the cluster of
guests now waiting outside Jeffs door. The young
man will be quite all right. He must have fallen and
knocked his head against one of the wooden posts.
Thank you so much for your solicitude. And Im
sorry you were disturbed.
Her voice was easy and professional. She was the
hostess and owner of the inn once more, capable of
handling the situation with tact.
With tact and understatement, Connie thought to
herself. Jeff didnt fall. That bruise was never made
53
62
CHAPTER
cried.
Jeff thinks he has the priority on thrilling jobs,
though, Connie told her. His has all sorts of
angles. One minute hes studying dinosaurs bones
in a Philadelphia museum and the next hes playing
bloodhound in New Mexico. You cant beat that.
Maria smiled at the young man. Tell me more.
Youre a?
An archaeologist, Jeff said modestly.
Oh? Again Maria looked interested. And
youre on the scent of a new dinosaur?
Jeff laughed. Right now Im on the scent of a
man by the name of Twisty Schlessinger. Dont
happen to know him, do you?
Twisty Schlessinger. The girl repeated the odd
name slowly. Theres something familiar about it.
Does he live around here?
He used to work for Mr. Norman, over at the
Alvarado Shop. A slight, oldish fellow, with a limp,
and a finger missing on one hand. Jeff found it hard
to keep impatience out of his voice. He watched
Marias face closely as he spoke.
A glint of recognition appeared in the girls eyes
as Jeff mentioned the missing finger. Oh, yes, I
remember him, she said quite guilelessly. Let me
seePedro, our dishwasher, was talking about him
last week.
Hope leaped into both Connies and Jeffs eyes.
72
76
CHAPTER
Fruitless Journey
Fourfingers?
The Indian rocked forward on the soles of his
feet. He looked up at Connie, started to shrug, then
changed his mind and nodded.
Gone home now.
Connies heart began to pound. Here was the man
Jeff was probably seeking at this very minute, at
distant Black Cat Gulch. While she had been
sketching, the legendary Twisty had been bargaining
with the Indian jeweler practically under her nose.
Maybe I can catch him!
The Indian selected a smaller file from the
instruments on the blanket in front of him. He
seemed to be weighing the suggestion in his mind.
For an instant Connie was hopeful. Then he slowly
shook his head.
Which way does he go when he leaves here?
Connie almost yielded to the impulse to race off
on the chance that she might catch up with the man
outside the governors office. Then she remembered
that five or ten minutes had elapsed since she had
seen him start to walk away. Such a haphazard chase
would be useless.
Its very important for me to see him, she went
on when the Indian didnt answer. I can explain
why later. She tried not to sound overwrought.
The Indians calm black eyes studied the girls
face. Apparently he read sincerity there, because he
84
87
CHAPTER
Hello!
Maria, Connie asked at once, how can we get
to Black Cat Gulch except by car?
By horseback, Maria said, as Connie had
expected.
Do you ride?
Oh, yes. Maria seemed to understand where the
conversation was heading. If you need a guide, and
if you and Mr. Chandler can hire horses at Watkins
Stable, Id be glad to take you up there.
Thats what I hoped youd say! Connie cried in
obvious delight. Tomorrow?
The only day Connie would be able to desert her
job and go along was Sunday, and she did want to
be in the party.
Tomorrows Sunday, Maria was saying
thoughtfully. Its a slow day for us at the Dipper.
Yes, I think tomorrow would be fine.
Elated, Connie carried the news home to Jeff, and
that evening they completed their plans. Jeff
engaged three mounts at the livery stable, phoned
Maria and thanked her for her generous offer and
arranged a time for them all to meet.
Before she left him to go to her room, Connie
tried to tell Jeff something of her growing suspicion
of Mrs. Morgan.
Ever since that first meal we ate at the inn, when
you described Twisty Schlessinger to her, Ive had a
90
a house?
Maria nodded. Thats the old prospectors shack
I was looking for. Your eyes are sharper than mine,
Connie.
By now they could all see a small log building
nestling in a clump of spruce trees. Though it had a
fair-sized chimney it looked to be no larger than a
one-room hut. There was a lean-to at one side, like a
sheep shelter, and under this a burro was tethered.
He turned and brayed softly as the horses
approached.
Twisty must be home. Theres his donkey! Jeff,
with boyish impatience, kicked his pony into a trot.
He was the first of the three to dismount. While
Connie and Maria stayed with the horses, he went at
once to the cabin door and knocked.
Now if this is only the man! Connie murmured,
uneasy at the last moment, fearing another wildgoose chase. Jeff knocked again and waited, then
turned to the girls with a frown.
Nobody home.
He went to the window at the right of the door
and, placing his hands like blinders beside his eyes,
peered in. Connie led the horses up to the cabin and
followed suit.
There was certainly nothing remarkable inside. A
cot bed, a couple of chairs, a deal table and a cookstove was the extent of the furnishing. A neat man
96
100
CHAPTER
far as she could, and bracing with all her might she
gradually pulled the mare down to a canter, then to a
trot.
The open prairie seemed to calm the mare more
than any of Connies urgent commands. In another
two minutes she was walking, with only an
occasional nervous two-step to show she hadnt
forgotten her fright.
Now Connie could look back, and she was just in
time to see Jeff break out of the stand of trees. He
looked alarmed, even from a distance, and Connie
could see that his horse wasnt under much better
control than her own had been.
She leaned forward then, and to avert a second
mad bolt began to stroke the mares neck and
murmur soothing words. Quiet, Suky. Quiet now.
Thats a girl. It didnt matter what she said; it was
the calmness of her voice that would count. And it
was hard to keep her voice level and mild when her
heart was pounding and her breath was still coming
in gasps. Quiet, girl.
Jeff was coming up at a trot now, and a few
hundred yards behind him cantered Maria, the only
one of the three who seemed to be in complete
command of her mount.
You all right?
Fine, Connie told Jeff, not liking to admit that
for a few minutes she had been actually terrified.
103
113
CHAPTER
10
Night Maneuver
ruin.
Jeff grinned. Even then its often dangerous, he
told her with a villainous hiss.
Why?
Well, for one thing you might mix Pueblo I
culture with Early Basketmaker, Jeff said.
Oh, you! Connie never knew whether Jeff was
teasing her or talking sense. The jargon of
archaeology, she was discovering, was like the
jargon of any other profession or business, a
language in itself. She knew she could start talking
about reverse photostats and space rates and rough
layouts and Jeff would be just as much at sea as she
was now.
Jeff leaned back and laughed. Finished? he
asked, glancing at Connies empty dessert plate.
Lets go up and sit near the fire.
First Id better look in on Georgia, Connie said,
but when she went to the room she found Miss
Cameron sleeping. She joined Jeff again, and found
him setting out a checkerboard on a small table
between two chairs. Bet I can beat you two out of
three, he said.
Connie took him up on it. They played two sets of
three games each before going to bed, and managed
to neatly tie the score. Tomorrow night well play it
off, Jeff promised with a yawn. Just now I feel the
need of sleep.
120
124
CHAPTER
11
chair and said, Ill go get two cups from the pantry.
Dolly wont mind if I make myself at home.
When he had left the room, Connie glanced at
Jeff with a troubled expression. I wish you hadnt
told Mr. Norman you were going to the gulch, she
whispered. He just might say something to Dolores
Morgan, and it would be just as well
Here we are! Percy Norman was back, a cup of
steaming coffee in either hand. He put one down
before Jeff. Well drink a toast to a successful trip.
Impulsively Connie put her hand on Mr.
Normans arm. As a favor, please dont mention to
anyone where Jeff is going.
Mr. Norman looked surprised. Why? Is it a
secret? I thought everybody knew
Connie cut in, We were shot at yesterday at
Black Cat Gulch, Mr. Norman. I dont know why,
and neither does Jeff, butshe looked at Jeff for
confirmationwe think it might be wise not to do
much talking from here on in.
Mr. Norman raised his eyebrows. Shot at? He
turned toward Jeff. Better take it easy in that back
country, young man.
Jeff was stirring sugar into his coffee. Ill try to,
he said grimly.
Odd things happen once in a while around here.
Shot at. Hmm. Does Mrs. Morgan know?
No, and please, Mr. Norman, dont tell her!
129
CHAPTER
12
MissingOne Archaeologist!
CHAPTER
13
muttered.
The party rode along at a fast trot for a while,
then, heading for wilder country. Connie could hear
Mr. Smith and Manuel talking behind her, their
voices carrying easily in the clear air.
These tourists, Manuel was grumbling.
Always getting themselves in some kind of jam.
Chandler isnt exactly a tourist, as I understand
it, the more perceptive artist explained. Hes on
the trail of a rare archaeological specimen, and he
just seems to have been unfortunately tenaciousor
else somebody is pulling a fast one.
Connie and Maria rode along without saying very
much. Both were absorbed in thought. Connie,
especially, was impatient to reach Black Cat Gulch.
Remembering the shots which had greeted them on
their previous expedition, she offered up a silent
prayer that they might not be too late.
After a while Mr. Smith spurred his horse and
cantered up to join the sheriff, while Percy Norman
dropped back and rode with Connie, and Manuel
and Maria entered into conversation in Spanish at
the rear.
Mr. Norman apparently held no grudge against
Connie for disputing his suggestion of searching the
prairie. He was his usual suave and entertaining self,
except for a certain nervous twitch to the right-hand
corner of his mouth, of which Connie had never
154
159
CHAPTER
14
counterfeiters press!
Connie could remember seeing a similar press in
a Washington, D.C. museum, on a trip her high
school class had made to the nations capital. It
seemed no less incredible to her now than it had
then, that men should go to such stealthy and
intricate methods to cheat and steal.
Percy Norman and Twisty Schlessinger. In
cahoots! It was hard, even now, to believe it, with
the evidence before her very eyes. Mr. Norman
posing as the urbane jewelry merchant, pretending
to be friendly and helpful, while all the time he was
taking the most devious ways of keeping Jeff from
ever blundering into the true secret of Black Cat
Gulch!
Jeff!
In her absorption with her astonishing discovery
Connie had momentarily forgotten the real object of
her search in the mine. Now she was more firmly
convinced than ever that the young archaeologist
had met with foul play at the hands of the innocentlooking little man who was Normans stooge and
accomplice. But where could Twisty have concealed
Jeff, if not here?
Unlessunless No! Connie would not allow
herself even to admit the ultimate possibility to
which a criminal might go to keep a secret like this.
Jeff must be alive. He might be bound, gagged,
166
170
CHAPTER
15
Why?
Ground sloths, replied Jeff with increasing
animation, lumbered around this neck of the woods
in late glacial times.
So what? Connie was too distrait to want to
discuss archaeology at such a moment, but she did
recognize the importance of provoking Jeff to
complete awareness.
If ground sloth remains are in this cave, and also
human remains, we might find some evidence that
men lived here at the same time as the sloths, said
Jeff as though he were thinking out loud. Think of
it! Ten thousand years ago
But Connie was in no mood to listen to an
extensive discourse on prehistoric times. She
jumped to her feet and looked down at Jeff
impatiently.
Ten thousand years will keep. Listen, Jefftry
to think in terms of nowtoday! Weve got to get
out of here.
But Jeff refused to return to the present. He got to
his feet and grabbed Connies arm, almost shaking
the bone in her face.
Think what this means! he cried, forgetting to
whisper. Its the end of my search. Its a hundred
times more important than that jet and turquoise
ornamentthan any ceramic remains. It may be
even more important than the bison bones found at
174
like jelly.
Maria!
The Spanish girls answering voice fell like music
on Connies ears. Connie! Here we are!
She met the search party on the footpath that led
to the caves mouth, and immediately she realized
that, though Twisty was walking sulkily along
beside the sheriff, Mr. Norman was not in the group.
Ive found Jeff! she cried without preamble.
But wheres Mr. Norman? You mustnt let him get
away!
More puzzled expressions she had never
encountered. Only Twisty looked sullen and
understanding. The sheriff pulled distractedly at his
ear and said, Norman? Norman said hed go head
you off. Said it was dangerous business, a girl
fooling around alone near an abandoned mine.
Somehow, Connie gasped out her story. He
followed me. I got out through another entrance.
Jeffs still down there!
The men of the posse looked unsure of what to
believe and what to discount. It was Jonathan Smith
who said sensibly, Youd better take us to
Chandler.
Well need a rope, Connie said.
The sheriff was ready. Ive got one.
It was the work of only a few minutes to go back
up the path to the mine chimney, but the party
179
181
CHAPTER
16
Connies Evidence
192
CHAPTER
17
197