Read The Legend of Miner's Creek Page 3


  “Nancy helped us fight the fire today,” Charlie told Tyler as the man and Nancy shook hands.

  “Charlie thinks the fire was started by lightning,” Tyler said. He studied Nancy, as though waiting to see if she would contradict Charlie’s story.

  “We were lucky the rain put it out,” Nancy answered, trying to avoid saying anything definite.

  “We can all be glad of that,” Tyler said, looking at Nancy with piercing blue eyes. “Senator Callihan is beginning to think this place is too dangerous for a park.”

  “Tyler, here, is an aide for the senator,” Charlie explained.

  “Yes, I just flew in tonight to check some records and take a few pictures,” Tyler said.

  “And get some dinner, I hope,” Charlie said. He seemed anxious to end the awkward meeting. “Let’s eat.” He led the way in to the table before either Nancy or Tyler could say anything else.

  At the table Charlie introduced the girls to the other guests.

  “Shirley and Frank Kauffman and their son, Aaron, have the first cabin,” Charlie said, gesturing to a family at the end of the table. The man and woman both wore bright flannel shirts and blue jeans. The man was tall and blond. His wife had long black hair fastened with a barrette. “They’ve come here every year since Aaron was born,” Charlie went on. “That’s five years, isn’t it?”

  Both the Kauffmans nodded, looking pleased that Charlie remembered their son’s age. Shirley gently pushed a stray strand of black hair from her son’s eyes. Aaron was swinging his feet vigorously under the table. A boy with lots of energy, Nancy guessed.

  “And this is Todd and Beth Smythe, who are here for their honeymoon. They’re in the middle cabin,” Charlie said.

  The newlyweds held hands and smiled at each other as they were introduced. Both had dressed up for dinner—Todd in a checked cotton shirt with a narrow western tie, and Beth in a ruffled blouse and long skirt.

  Pete and Elsa sat at the table with the guests, as did Tyler Nelson. Pete had changed into a plaid shirt that stretched a little too tightly across his chest, straining the fabric. He was the first to dig into the potatoes, Nancy noticed.

  The platters of food were soon empty, much to Elsa’s delight. Bess was working on her second helping of steak.

  “I’m so glad you liked the venison,” Elsa said, beaming. “Some people don’t, you know.”

  Bess stopped chewing and pushed aside the last bites on her plate.

  “This is deer meat?” she asked weakly.

  “Yes,” Charlie said. “And Elsa fixes it better than anyone I know.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Elsa said as she began to clear the dishes. “He’s just trying to butter me up so he’ll get a bigger piece of dessert.”

  “I’ll help Elsa while you tell everyone the story of Jeremiah Benner,” Rachel said to Charlie as she jumped to her feet. “It’ll get them in the mood for a ride to Prospector’s Canyon.”

  “We’d love to hear it,” Nancy said eagerly.

  Charlie pushed his chair back from the table. “This is the legend of Miner’s Creek,” he began. “And it all begins with a man named Jeremiah Benner.

  “Jeremiah was a prospector in these parts. No one seems to know where he came from, or where he finally went, but while he was here, about seventy years ago, he was supposed to have found one of the county’s richest gold mines.”

  Nancy looked around the table. She could see that Charlie had caught all of his guests’ attention with the mention of gold, including Tyler Nelson.

  “He panned a lot of gold out of Miner’s Creek,” Charlie went on. “Jeremiah was convinced that the mother lode—the source of all the gold—was someplace on this property. He was so convinced, in fact, that he agreed to make my father, Cyrus, his partner. Jeremiah said he’d give him half of whatever he found. In exchange, my father let him continue to prospect on this land.

  “Jeremiah looked for all of one summer and most of the next. Then one evening, just before dark, he came running down the trail from Prospector’s Canyon, his old burro hurrying along behind, pots and pans banging as they ran. He was shouting, ‘I’m rich! I’m rich! I struck it rich!’ ”

  Charlie paused for a moment. Elsa and Rachel were busy setting plates of German chocolate cake in front of each guest.

  “What Jeremiah had found were two pieces of quartz with gold in them,” Charlie continued. “He kept one for himself and gave the other to Cyrus. He said he’d found a pocket of that quartz ore that was so heavy with gold he’d only be able to carry a little of it out at a time. But he refused to tell Cyrus where it was. Cyrus never got anything more after that one piece of quartz, which most of you have seen on that shelf over by the door.”

  “But what happened to Jeremiah?” George asked.

  Charlie shook his head. “No one knows. He sneaked around in and out of the mountains for about a month after that. Then he just disappeared. According to my father, his burro wandered into the barn one day with its halter still on, looking for food. But no one ever saw Jeremiah again.”

  “Now, that’s a mystery,” George whispered to Nancy.

  “My dad, Cyrus, died of smallpox shortly after that, leaving Ma and me alone. I don’t remember anything about Jeremiah, except from stories.” Charlie leaned back in his chair.

  There was silence around the table for a moment.

  “I never even knew there was gold in Washington State,” Bess said at last.

  “Yes, we have the same mountain formation as California and Alaska,” Rachel explained. She had finished serving cake and was once again sitting at the table next to Nancy. “Of course, there haven’t been as many stories about Washington, but we’ve had our share of prospectors. Some of them got rich, just like they did in California.”

  “Did you look for the gold yourself?” Nancy asked Charlie as she finished her cake.

  The old man shrugged. “I did, some, but I never found anything. Neither did any of the other people who came looking,” Charlie said. “My guess is that Jeremiah found these two pieces of quartz and that was all. I don’t think there ever was a mine. Jeremiah, once he figured that out, probably headed for Alaska, hoping to strike gold there.”

  “Now I can’t wait to see Prospector’s Canyon,” Mrs. Kauffman said.

  “Maybe we can find gold,” Aaron added eagerly. He looked down the table at Charlie, his eyes wide with excitement.

  “We’ll ride horses to the canyon day after tomorrow,” Rachel promised.

  Everyone agreed that they’d like to see the place where Jeremiah supposedly struck it rich.

  “It sounds like a tall tale to me,” Tyler said. He held his water glass casually in one hand as he spoke. Still wearing a suit, he looked out of place in the rustic surroundings, Nancy thought.

  “Oh, but the ride will be fun,” Bess said.

  “Well, I say you’re off on a wild-goose chase,” Tyler continued. “And Charlie told me the best scenery is north of the meadow. Why don’t you take your ride there?”

  “Maybe we’ll go both places,” Rachel said.

  Tyler folded his napkin and, after thanking his hosts, excused himself from the table. “I’ve got some reading to do. Good night, everyone,” he said abruptly, then walked out the front door of the lodge.

  “What’s his problem?” Bess said under her breath.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he wanted us all to stay away from Prospector’s Canyon,” George whispered to Nancy.

  “Which makes me all the more determined to go,” Nancy said. “This has been a very interesting day.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George helped Elsa and Rachel carry dishes into the kitchen. The other guests slowly returned to their own cabins.

  When the table was cleared, Elsa brought mugs and a pot of tea. Charlie lit a small fire in the fireplace, and the girls pulled chairs in a half circle around it.

  “Is the sale really in danger of falling through?” Nancy asked Charlie.

  Charli
e sighed. “According to Tyler it is. He says Senator Callihan doesn’t like the reports of problems here. Money is tight right now, and he’s having trouble getting the votes to buy the place.”

  “Someone could be trying to stop the sale,” Nancy said gently. “I’m still not convinced that fire today was caused by lightning.”

  “It could have been lightning, but I have to admit, the timing seemed wrong,” Charlie said slowly. He took a sip of tea. “But who would do such a thing?”

  “Maddie, for one,” George volunteered.

  “Or Pete,” Bess added. “Neither of them were very nice today at the fire.”

  “Nonsense,” Charlie said without hesitation. “Maddie loves the land in these parts more than anyone I know, and Pete has lived here for twenty years. He wouldn’t try to burn his own home.”

  “If the Highlands becomes a state park, will Pete have to move?” Nancy asked carefully.

  Charlie was silent for a moment. “Yes,” he answered quietly. “According to the agreement, I can live here for the rest of my life, but Pete would have to be out by the end of the year. But I could never believe that Pete would start that fire.”

  “What would you do if the state didn’t buy the land?” Nancy asked. “Couldn’t you sell to someone else?”

  Charlie nodded. “There is a second offer, but I’d feel better about selling the land if it was going to be a park. Then I could be sure it would be taken care of,” he said.

  “Who made you the second offer?” Nancy asked.

  “I’ll show you the letter,” Charlie said, rising from his chair. He crossed the room to a large rolltop desk under the staircase that led to the balcony. Then he pulled a letter from the top drawer and handed it to Nancy.

  At the top of the letter were three eagles, above an address for the Nature Preservation League. The eagles looked to Nancy as if they had been printed by a computer. The letter read:

  Dear Mr. Griffin:

  It has come to our attention that the Highland Retreat may be for sale. We are very interested in buying and preserving land in your area. Though we could not offer as much as some, you could rest assured that your land would be in good hands. Please contact us at the above address.

  Sincerely,

  Rosco Johnson

  “May I take the letter?” Nancy asked. “I’d like to check out this Nature Preservation League.”

  “What are you checking for?” Bess asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Nancy said. “But if this group is so anxious to buy the land, they might have a reason to try to stop the government deal. I think it’s worth looking into.”

  With Charlie’s permission Nancy took the letter, and the girls started to leave for their cabin. Rachel and Charlie walked them to the door of the lodge.

  Suddenly Rachel gasped as they passed the display of mining equipment.

  “The gold quartz!” she cried. “It’s gone!”

  5

  In Harm’s Way

  Everyone whirled around to look at the shelf where the quartz had been.

  “I left it out,” Rachel blurted. “I remember, I took it from the locked case and left it here.” She pointed to the shelf where she had placed the rock while explaining to the girls how to pan for gold. There were only a few books on it.

  “Maybe it got knocked down or put in the wrong place,” Bess suggested. She and Rachel began to look around on the floor and the other shelves, but they didn’t find anything.

  “Who could have taken it?” George asked, frowning.

  “Anyone who was at dinner,” Nancy said. “All of the guests walked by here on their way out. Any one of them could have picked up the quartz.”

  “But why?” Rachel shrugged her shoulders in confusion.

  Nancy turned to Charlie. For the first time that day he really did look like an old man. The lines in his face seemed deeper, and his eyes looked sad and tired.

  “I’m beginning to think you and Rachel are right, Nancy,” he said slowly. “There are just too many things going wrong—the fires, the quartz, the difficulty with the sale of our land. It’s as though someone is trying to take everything that matters away from us.”

  Nancy took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I have to agree with you,” she said. “I’m so sorry about your gold ore. Let’s try and figure out who is behind these problems—and why. I’d like to take a trip back to the meadow to check out the fire site more thoroughly.”

  “I’ll take you right after breakfast,” Rachel volunteered.

  The girls said good night to Rachel and Charlie and walked to their cabin.

  “I hope the beds are comfortable,” Bess said as they opened the door.

  “After a day like this, I think I could sleep on anything,” George said.

  Nancy agreed, but once she was in her top bunk, she found her head swimming with the events of the day. It was at least an hour before she finally got to sleep.

  • • •

  “Rise and shine!” Rachel announced cheerfully as she pounded on the girls’ cabin door the next morning. “Breakfast in thirty minutes.”

  Breakfast turned out to be homemade blueberry muffins, crisp bacon, scrambled eggs, juice, and hot cocoa served buffet-style in the lodge.

  Nancy, George, and Bess had the spread all to themselves.

  “Charlie’s in his office doing paperwork, and the Kauffmans have already eaten,” Rachel told them. “Apparently Aaron woke his parents early this morning,” she added with a laugh. “The honey-mooners are still asleep. We usually let guests sleep as late as they want, but I’m anxious to get started solving this mystery.”

  “Don’t you mean mysteries?” George asked. “It seems to me there’s more than one here.”

  “That’s right,” Bess agreed. “There’s the mystery of the fires and of someone trying to stop the sale of your grandfather’s land. And then there’s the mystery of the stolen gold ore.”

  “That’s my fault,” Rachel said, looking at the floor. “I shouldn’t have left the quartz out where it could be stolen.”

  Nancy wanted to tell Rachel everything would be all right, but so far the mysteries were baffling even to her.

  After breakfast the girls followed Rachel out of the lodge. They waved to the Kauffmans, who were walking toward their car. Little Aaron was several paces behind his parents, examining a rock near the road.

  “I think it’s gold!” Aaron cried out, holding up the rock.

  Bess laughed as his parents pretended to be very excited about his find.

  “It looks like Aaron’s caught gold fever,” Rachel said with a laugh.

  She led the girls along a path to the meadow, her long legs striding quickly. They crossed Miner’s Creek, using a small footbridge suspended by ropes from four large pine trees. Bess was reluctant to cross the wobbly bridge but finally decided it was better than getting her feet wet by wading.

  The trail wound through grass and wildflowers. The storm had blown over, leaving behind a brilliant blue sky. Beyond the meadow the snowcapped mountains finished a postcard-perfect setting.

  They passed the salt lick that Pete had set out the day before. Rachel showed the girls deer tracks around the block, but there were no animals in sight.

  “Over here,” Nancy said when they neared the fire site. “I can see the ashes.”

  She led them off the trail to the place where the fire had started. She was standing at the point of a triangle of burned grass that had its longest edge at the line of trees where the meadow ended.

  “The wind blew the fire in that direction,” Nancy said, pointing to the trees. “So it had to have started here.”

  She led the way along the burned edge of grass, looking for clues as she went. Near the trees Nancy found tracks where the meadow grass had been crushed by the tires of a large vehicle.

  “Is there a road close to here?” Nancy asked Rachel.

  “There are old logging roads all through the woods,” Rachel replied. “But I don’t know why
anyone would be driving in the meadow.”

  “Unless they were here to start a fire,” Nancy said.

  Nancy followed the tire tracks to the edge of the trees, but then they disappeared in the deep bed of pine needles. A jeep or truck could have easily maneuvered between the trees and back to the dirt road leading to town.

  “The only thing all these tracks really tell us is that someone has been here within the last few days,” Nancy said. “We’re at a dead end, I’m afraid. Our best clue still seems to be the piece of paper I found in the bush. We know for sure that it was dropped recently—maybe by the person who drove whatever vehicle made these tracks.”

  The girls walked back along the trail toward the footbridge. When they reached the creek, Rachel made a sudden startled jump straight into the air.

  “A water snake,” Rachel told the others with a sheepish laugh. “They’re harmless, but they always make me jump.”

  “A snake!” Bess sounded shocked. “Are there more?”

  “Sure,” Rachel answered.

  “Are any of them dangerous?” Bess formed her words slowly.

  “There are some rattlesnakes,” Rachel said with a shrug. “But they mostly stay hidden during the heat of the day.”

  Bess nodded, glancing nervously at the ground.

  “There are so many different animals in the Highlands, and I love them all,” Rachel went on. “That’s why I want to be a marine biologist someday, so I can help wildlife and the environment.”

  “Why a marine biologist?” Nancy asked.

  “Mostly because of the salmon,” Rachel replied. “Every fall I watch them swim up Miner’s Creek to spawn. And every spring the baby salmon swim hundreds of miles back to the ocean. I’ve always wanted to follow them to see where they live the rest of their lives. Come on, I’ll show you my special place.”

  Instead of crossing the footbridge, Rachel led the girls along the creek to a salmon spawning bed she had restored in a straight stretch of clear, shallow water.

  “This is it,” Rachel said proudly. “I hauled in that round gravel on the bottom of the creek myself. The salmon bury their eggs in it.”

  To Nancy, the bed had seemed unimpressive at first—just a wide stretch of rapidly flowing water—but Rachel’s explanation made it much more interesting.