by Gary Paulsen
A MYSTERIOUS LEGEND …
A curtain parted and an elderly woman whose face was so wrinkled it was hard to see her eyes shuffled into the room. “Sit down, niños. My great-grandson tells me that you are needy. I will give you a reading.”
Katie frowned. “I don’t think you understand, ma’am. Pepe told us to come here because we need information about our dad. We really don’t have time for anything else.”
“Sit,” the old woman commanded. She closed her eyes and began swaying back and forth. In moments a strange, high-pitched wail came from her lips. Then she stopped. Her eyes opened and she stared straight at Katie. She pointed a long, bony finger in Katie’s face. “You … you have the key. But you must be very careful. I have seen danger. Your friends may be your enemies. And your enemies will come for you. I see that you are part of the legend.”
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HOW TO FIGHT A GIRL, Thomas Rockwell
BEETLES, LIGHTLY TOASTED, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
YEARLING BOOKS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author of numerous books for young readers.
Published by
Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers
a division of
Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036
Text copyright © 1998 by Gary Paulsen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
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eISBN: 978-0-307-80409-9
Series design: Barbara Berger
Interior illustration by Michael David Biegel
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Other Yearling Books You Will Enjoy
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Dear Readers:
Real adventure is many things—it’s danger and daring and sometimes even a struggle for life or death. From competing in the Iditarod dogsled race across Alaska to sailing the Pacific Ocean, I’ve experienced some of this adventure myself. I try to capture this spirit in my stories, and each time I sit down to write, that challenge is a bit of an adventure in itself.
You’re all a part of this adventure as well. Over the years I’ve had the privilege of talking with many of you in schools, and this book is the result of hearing firsthand what you want to read about most—power-packed adventure and excitement.
You asked for it—so hang on tight while we jump into another thrilling story in my World of Adventure.
CHAPTER 1
“We’ve landed, Katie. You can open your eyes now.”
“Very funny.” Thirteen-year-old Katherine Crockett gave her brother a look of disgust, flipped her long, sandy blond hair behind her shoulder, and stood to retrieve her overnight bag from the compartment above her head.
“Sam, you really shouldn’t give Katie a hard time about flying.” A tall African American boy across the aisle folded his arms. “Your dad wouldn’t like it. And besides,” he said with a snort, “some people can’t help it if they’re total wimps and have to use the barf bag before the plane even gets off the ground.”
Katie glared at the tall boy. “Shala, if you think that being my cousin will keep me from hurting you—think again.” She lifted her chin and stepped into the aisle.
“She’s right, Shala. Being her cousin won’t save you. I’m her brother, older brother to be exact, and it hasn’t helped me a bit.”
“I heard that.” Katie was nearly at the front of the small plane. She turned and made a face. “Let’s not get too carried away, o ancient one. You’re only ten minutes older, and our birth certificates say we’re twins, so that makes us equal enough in the age department.”
Sam had opened his mouth to set her straight when a duffel bag came flying across the aisle and hit him in the chest.
“Here.” Shala chuckled. “If you’re smart you’ll call it even and catch up with her before she gets to your dad first and our vacation in New Mexico starts off on the wrong foot.”
“You have a point there.” Sam edged around a woman in front of him and yelled over the heads of the other passengers. “Wait up, Katie. Dad said we should stay together, remember? San Marcos is right on the Mexican border. A town like this could be a rough place … for a little girl.”
But Katie was already off the plane and heading for the terminal. She hurried through the glass doors and scanned the faces of the people in the waiting area, hoping to see her father’s familiar salt-and-pepper beard.
“Excuse me, miss.” A thin man with bushy black eyebrows and a thick Spanish accent stepped in front of her. “You look as if you need assistance. Perhaps I could hold your belongings while you try to locate your party.”
“No … thank you.” Katie moved a few steps away and glanced behind her to see if the boys were coming. Suddenly the man yanked her overnight bag from her fingers and darted through the crowd.
“Hey!” Katie yelled, charging after him. “Somebody stop that man!”
“Katie’s in trouble!” Sam shouted. “Come on, Shala.”
The two boys pushed past the new arrivals and ran into the small airport lobby. They could see the top of Katie’s head bobbing up and down as she blasted through the crowd in front of them.
Shala spotted something lying on the lobby floor. He scooped it up and sprinted after Sam.
Behind them an alarm went off. Airport security guards were blowing whistles and shouting in Spanish.
Katie saw the man she was after make a sudden turn at a bank of lockers. She chased him down a narrow corridor and started to follow him through a side exit.
Just as she shoved the unmarked door open, a hand with a grip like steel locked on to her arm. “Hold it right there, young lady.”
Katie struggled and looked up into the face of a police officer. “That man—” She pointed at the thief, who had already stopped a taxi and was hastily climbing inside. “He stole my bag—and you’re letting him get away.”
Sam came crashing down the hallway with Shala close behind. “Are you all right, Katie? What happened?”
Katie blew air threw her teeth, still furious at the policeman. “I’m f
ine. But some guy ripped off my bag. I almost caught up with him when this bozo came along and let him get away.”
Shala was breathing hard. “What … were you going to do with him … if you caught him?”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Ask him to the prom. What do you think I was going to do? Get my bag back, of course.”
Five officers now surrounded them. The one still holding Katie’s arm said something to the others in Spanish. Then he turned back to the three of them. “You will follow me. All of you are officially under arrest.”
CHAPTER 2
“We told you.” Sam wearily dropped to the wooden bench on the other side of the police sergeant’s desk. “We were never in Mexico. Check with the airlines. We flew straight to New Mexico, we didn’t cross the border, and we weren’t trying to avoid customs. A thief stole my sister’s bag and we were just trying to get it back.”
“If you’ll call the Hotel Monterrey and ask for my father, Professor William Crockett, he’ll clear all this up in no time.” Katie leaned on the desk. “He was supposed to meet us at the airport, but when your men arrested us we never got the chance to find him.”
The sergeant nodded patiently. “You say your father is a professor of archaeology and that he is currently working in one of the ruins not far from the city?”
Shala, who was sitting on the bench beside Sam, let out a long breath. “That’s what we told you. Let’s see … is it eleven times so far? My uncle, their father, is expecting us to join him today so that he can take us out to the dig. You’ve searched us and our luggage. We’re obviously not hiding anything. Why not let us go so we can get on with our vacation?”
A young police officer walked into the room and delivered a piece of paper. The sergeant read it quickly. He placed it on the desk in front of him and folded his hands. “It is true that we found nothing suspicious in your luggage and your papers seem to be in order. But there is one part of your story that does not seem to check out. There is no Professor Crockett registered at the Hotel Monterrey.”
“What?” Sam jumped up. “Are you sure? Maybe there’s more than one Hotel Monterrey in San Marcos.”
The sergeant shook his head. “I assure you there is only one. Now.” He stood and walked around the desk. “The question is, what should be done with the three of you?”
“Well.” Katie put her hands on her hips. “If you were real policemen, you would go get my bag back from that stupid crook and then help us find my dad.”
Sam elbowed her. “Uh … what my sister means is that there is obviously some kind of weird mix-up going on here and we would really appreciate any help you could give us in locating our father.”
“Of course. I have my officers inquiring as to his whereabouts even as we speak. We will also check with the federal officials about the ruins you mentioned. In the meantime, since we have no place to keep you other than a jail cell, I have decided to release the three of you—on one condition.”
“Cool.” Shala stood up. “What is it?”
“You will remember that you are in New Mexico now. And as guests of our state you will abide by our laws. If anyone other than a police officer should contact you about this incident you will report it to me at once. Is this understood?”
“Got it.” Sam pushed the other two toward the door. “Can we get our stuff back now?”
The sergeant called to an officer and instructed him to take the three to the front desk and give them their belongings. “Enjoy your stay in San Marcos. And contrary to what you may think, I wish you much luck in locating your father.” The sergeant followed them to the door. “Rest assured, we will be in touch.”
CHAPTER 3
“Now what?” Sam set his suitcase on the cracked sidewalk outside the police station.
Katie reached for a small, sturdy chain she wore around her neck and pulled out a square leather purse attached to it. She unzipped the pouch, searched through her traveler’s checks and identification papers, and found a worn envelope. “Here’s Dad’s last letter. Look, right here he says he’ll meet us at the airport today and if there are any problems he’ll be staying at the Hotel Monterrey, where he’s booked rooms for all of us.”
“There could be a problem.” Shala pulled a wallet-sized photograph of Katie from his pocket. “I found this on the floor in the airport lobby. Did one of you drop it?”
Katie read the back. “That’s my handwriting. I sent this to Dad right after school pictures came out. Why would it be in the airport?”
“There are a couple of possibilities.” Shala’s face was grim. “Either Uncle William was at the airport and accidentally dropped it. Or the man who stole your bag had it and was using the photo to identify you for some reason.”
“But how could that creep have gotten my picture?” Katie’s eyes widened. “Unless something happened to Dad.”
“Calm down.” Sam sat on his suitcase. “Don’t go jumping to conclusions. The guy could have been a pickpocket. He probably swiped Dad’s wallet earlier and read your letters. He took one look at your wimpy picture and decided to wait for you in the airport because you looked like an easy mark.”
“I do not look like an easy mark.” Katie squared her shoulders. “And another thing—”
“We need some answers.” Shala stepped to the curb. “I say we get a taxi and go to the hotel. Maybe Uncle William left a message with the desk.”
“Pssst. Gringos. I have something for you.”
They turned. The voice was coming from the alley. A small Mexican American boy peeked around the corner. He held up a teal-colored canvas bag.
“Hey! That’s my overnight bag.” Katie rushed to the corner. “Where’d you get it?”
The boy stepped back into the shadows and shrugged. “Pepe knows about everything that goes on in San Marcos. My cousin found this bag in the garbage. I knew it was yours. So I brought it to you.” He held it out to her.
Katie grabbed it. “It’s empty. And somebody has ripped out the lining.”
The boy put his hands up. “I am innocent. I am merely returning your property—an act for which most wealthy tourists would reward me generously.” He held out his hand.
“Thanks a lot.” Katie scowled.
Shala took the bag. “Look at the way these cuts are made. Someone was careful to only slice the lining, not the bag itself. They must have thought something was hidden behind the lining and they were worried about damaging it.” He looked at Pepe. “Do you know who did this?”
“Better question,” Sam said, moving close to the boy. “Why did they do this?”
Pepe shook his head. “Not so fast. I have not survived this long on the streets of San Marcos by giving away information.”
Sam reached into his jeans and took out a couple of dollars. “Here. Now, what’s the story?”
Pepe took the money and stuffed it deep in his pocket. “The one who took your bag is not from San Marcos. He is an outsider, hired to meet you at the airport. And your amigo is right. The bag is torn like that because he was searching for something he believes you are carrying.”
Katie frowned. “What in the world would I have that somebody would go to all this trouble to get?”
Pepe shrugged. “That I cannot tell you. But I would be very careful, señorita. If these men did not find the thing they were looking for in your bag, they will try again.” He turned to walk back down the alley.
“Wait.” Sam grabbed the boy’s shoulder. “Can you tell us where the Hotel Monterrey is from here?”
Pepe’s face brightened. “It is my business to offer assistance to poor lost tourists—for a small fee, of course.”
“Of course.” Sam gave him another dollar.
Pepe stepped into the street and pointed up the road. “Take Desert Avenue. Turn left at the square. The hotel is on Piedra Street. It’s a good choice. Hot water and everything.”
“One more question.” Sam held a dollar over Pepe’s palm. “What have you heard about an American archaeologist
named William Crockett?”
Pepe snatched the money and shoved it in his pocket. “At this time I cannot say. But I will be very glad to ask around and bring this information to your hotel tonight.”
Pepe hailed a taxi for them. “You will not be sorry that you have hired me, tourists. I know this town like the back of my hand. Anything you want”—he snapped his fingers—“Pepe will find a way to make it yours.”
CHAPTER 4
“Yes, there was a Professor Crockett registered here.” A swarthy man with a long nose stood behind the counter looking down at his logbook. “But he checked out several days ago.”
“That’s impossible.” Katie tried to pry the book from the man’s hands. “Didn’t he reserve rooms for us?”
The clerk held on firmly. “Excuse me, young lady. The hotel register is strictly confidential.” When she let go, he skimmed the pages with his finger. “I have no record of Professor Crockett making reservations for anyone. Perhaps you are mistaken about the time and place you were to meet him.”
Katie shook her head. “Not hardly.”
“I don’t get it.” Sam ran his hand through his short blond hair. “Why would Dad tell us to meet him here and then not show up? Something must be wrong.”
“That is very puzzling.” The clerk snapped the book shut. “But I am sure your father would not want you to stay here under these circumstances. I suggest the three of you consider returning home until the professor contacts you. The airport has flights leaving daily.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this right now.” Shala glanced around the hotel lobby. There were two men standing near the front door who seemed to be hanging on every word they said. He turned to the clerk and handed him a credit card. “We want two rooms, please.”
The man hesitated. “Are you sure this is wise? After all, you have no idea when, or even if, Professor Crockett will return.”
“He said we wanted two rooms.” Katie folded her arms. “Your sign outside says you have vacancies. Is there a problem?”
