"Take it easy! You could have a nasty fall here."
"Another landslip. The storm must have brought this down, too." Lucas kicked at a stone. "What's so exciting?" he asked Neal.
It was Toliver, standing on a big rock farther on, who cried out now, urging them to join him.
However, Lucas and Father went slowly, holding back both Parky and Neal, who were fairly dancing with impatience. Baron flashed by the rock on which Toliver was perched and began barking very loudly indeed.
"Look there!"
The landslip had opened a narrow door into a valley. But facing them there was what was so astounding, though at first Christie was puzzled at what she saw. What was so important about an old broken wagon? Then she saw it was not really a wagon after all.
"It's a stagecoach!" Neal shouted, his voice echoing down the valley. "Stagecoach! Stagecoach!"
"And it says Bright Line on the door!" Toliver leaped from his rock perch and went to thump on the door of the coach.
Lucas joined him, shining his flashlight into the interior. A moment later he released his hold on the window sill and slid down. Then he walked to the front of the mass of wood, leather, and rusted metal.
Father climbed over to join him. Lucas said something to Father and handed him the torch. Then Father crawled up to look through the same window.
"It's the ghost coach they tell the story about, I bet!" Neal declared. "The Indians must have chased it here and—"
"Not Indians, I think," Father said as he came back to them. "Though in a way it is a
The Sealed Valley
ghost coach. No, its being here is not, I believe, the result of an Indian attack."
"But—but weren't they running, and got caught?" To Christie that seemed the only explanation.
"No. This coach must have been purposely hidden, all right. However, that was done to cover up another crime. I'm afraid that the driver who promised those passengers a run through the Indian attack lines was more a danger to those who bribed him than any Apaches. He must have brought the coach near here—if the passengers did not know the country they would not suspect him of a detour when he explained it was to escape capture. Then he robbed his passengers and—perhaps he had a confederate—he or they could take the horses and escape."
"But the passengers—" Christie asked.
"They are still in the coach," Father answered. "Whoever killed them must have then walled the coach up here. And during all this time it was hidden until the flood brought the landslip today. I'm afraid this particular crime will never be solved—it occurred too far in the past."
Christie backed away from the coach. This surely must be the ghost coach that was supposed to run along the old road at night. She turned, pulling Perks with her, and hurried back toward the car. Father caught up with her and dropped a comforting, warm hand on her shoulder.
"There's nothing here now to disturb anyone, Chris. It all happened a very long time ago."
"I know," she answered. "But they said that the ghost coach goes along the road at night. Maybe it will come out of here tonight—"
"Christie!" Her father's hold on her tightened, holding her fast. "There are all kinds of queer old stories that people like to tell just to scare themselves and others. This coach won't be going anywhere—tonight or any other night. We won't go in there again. Now—let's go back to camp, get a fire started, and have supper. We'll sleep in the car, just as we have other nights—all together and safe. There is nothing to be afraid of—nothing!"
Christie relaxed. With Father right here she knew she was being silly. Of course he was right—there was nothing to be afraid of now.
"Maybe—maybe because we found Lady Maude and the other things, that's why we found the coach, too." She said the first thing that slipped into her mind. "Maybe they all go together."
Father's arm hugged her. "Could be you're right. Stranger things have happened—"
"I'm hungry, good and hungry." Parky joined them. "Let's go and get something to eat. That old coach isn't going anywhere now." Father laughed. "Right you are, Parky." A moment later Christie was able to laugh, too. She was hungry, too, now that she did not feel so queer and cold inside.
12
Lady Maude Goes Home
Christie sat beside Mother, nervously folding and unfolding her hands. They felt sticky even though the big studio was so cool. Mr. Simmons had told them earlier what questions he was going to ask, and they had practiced their answers several times. But she still wished the program was all over. She was so afraid she would say something wrong, or forget:. She and Libby were to hold up Lady Maude and then open the little trunks and boxes before the TV cameras. Then the cameras would switch over to Toliver and Neal, who would talk about the strongbox and the shotgun. Shan should really have been here, too, since he had found the cave, but they were sure he would have been too frightened. After they did that, their part in the program would be over. Then the postmaster was going to talk about the mail bag and Mr. Simmons about Ten Mile Station. Last of all, Sheriff Wylie would describe the coach they had found near Darringer three days before. Tonight they were to stay at a motel here in town so they could see themselves on TV—which would be exciting—once this was safely over.
Father was to have been here too, but he had to drive to the airport to pick up Mr. Colby. Christie looked at Libby, who was also sober-faced. Maybe inside she was just as uncertain as Christie. They must forget about the camera, Mr. Simmons had told them—just make believe they were talking only to him as they had been when they had practiced.
"Ready—" Mr. Simmons beckoned from the table, where the bright lights were centered.
Christie got up. At first she felt her legs were shaking far too much for her to walk at all. Libby's hand caught hers in a very tight hold. They reached the chairs they had sat in during the rehearsal. Christie put out a finger to touch Lady Maude where the doll stood, with a stand to hold her securely upright. What did she think about all this? Christie wondered.
She swallowed the lump that reemed to fill her throat as she heard Mr. Simmons begin the familiar story of how they found the cave. Then, altogether too quickly, he began his questions. Libby's was first and she answered
TEN MILE TREASURE
it—her name and where she lived. Then Christie said the same. She kept watching Lady Maude, and somehow, with her eyes on the doll, she was not so frightened. She opened the jewel case and her share of the bags, while Libby spread out the other parts of Lady Maude's wardrobe.
The lights winked out and Mr. Simmons waited for them to pack away the lady and her things. Then Neal and Toliver took the girls' places to talk about their part of the finds. Christie was glad to be back again beside Mother.
When the program was over, they met Father in front of the broadcasting station. He had Mr. Colby with him, and also a tall man who thanked Father for the lift as he climbed out of the car.
"This is my wife and family, and their friends, Libby and Toliver Wildhorse," Father said. "Patricia, children, this is Congressman Cranford. He is interested in Jemez Park. I've been telling him about the station and the finds."
Mr. Cranford had gray hair and Christie thought him stern-looking until he smiled. "I am most pleased to have the chance to meet you, Mrs. Kimball. Now, let me see." He turned to the children. "Here are the heroines and heroes of the treasure hunt—but aren't there more of you?"
"Perks and Parky are with Mrs. Wildhorse," Neal told him. "They went to see the Indian exhibit in the bank lobby."
"Perks and Parky, and you must be Neal Kimball. Then—ladies—" He held out his hand first to Libby and then to Christie. "Miss Libby and Miss Christie—and this is Toliver—am I right?"
"And," he continued, glancing at the precious box that Libby and Christie carried between them, "can this be part of the treasure in question?"
"It's Lady Maude and her things," Christie answered shyly.
"Lady Maude! I understand she is to appear on a special TV
program tonight. Do you suppose I may have a private interview with the lady later on?"
"We have to take her back to Sheriff Wylie's office," Christie explained. "He's keeping her until he finds out who really owns her."
"I see. Well, perhaps the sheriff will let us get together. Such a famous and far-traveled lady should not have to spend most of her time shut up in a box. It has been a great pleasure, and I trust that this will not be the last time we meet." He smiled at them again and raised his hat.
When they got into the car and Mr. Cranford had gone into the broadcasting studio, Christie heard Mr. Colby say to Father, "Wonder what brought him out here at this time. Oh, I know he's on the park committee, but usually an eastern congressman is not going to travel to see a national park clear out here. As far as I know no one was expecting to see him. He's traveling alone, not on official business."
"I only know what you heard him say." Father did not appear too interested. "How did the program go, Pat?"
"They were all a little nervous, understandably, but once it started they did very well, as you shall for yourself this evening. Here's the sheriff's office—we'll take Lady Maude in and be right back. Christie and Libby can go—you boys stay in the car."
Only the young man who used the typewriter was there. He took Lady Maude's box and gave them a receipt. Then they went on to the motel. Christie was unhappy. If only Lady Maude could have come with them!
"I wish she could have a real home," she told Libby, who seemed to understand. "It must be very dull for her to be shut in that box day after day."
"Dull for a doll?" Neal had overheard her, much to Christie's instant annoyance. "A doll isn't alive, doesn't know what is going on. You're crazy."
"Lady Maude isn't just a doll." Christie tried to put her feelings into words. "She's—she's like a real person." Neal only laughed at her again and she was sorry she had said that. He would never understand the way she was sure Libby did.
Mother insisted on an afternoon rest time for the twins so they could sit up and watch the program in the evening. Neal and Toliver went off on their own to see the Indian exhibit at the bank. Christie and Libby had books to read and the motel room was cool and comfortable, but Christie felt restless.
If they could only be sure things would come out all right! She had what some people considered a bad habit of always looking at the last few pages of a new book before she read it, just to be sure that it had a happy ending. She never enjoyed the other sort. Now there was no way of turning to the final page in their own story to make sure it finished well. They would just have to wait for the end. She was afraid that was not going to go right. It could so well be a hurting one, with them moving away from the station—never able to see Libby and Toliver again—and perhaps even watching Lady Maude being given to Marlene!
Libby moved across the sofa and put her hand lightly on Christie's arm, shaking her out of her gloomy thoughts for a moment or two. "Did you see Marlene? She was across the street when we came out of the studio. When she watches the program tonight, she's going to be really mad."
"Why?"
"Because we're in it and she isn't. She probably thinks if she could have taken Lady Maude she would have been in our place there today."
Christie counted days on her fingers. It had been a whole week since she had mailed the letter to Maine. How much longer would she have to wait before she knew if anyone would answer it?
"Christie, where will your family go if you have to move away from the station?" Libby's question cut through her thoughts.
"I don't know."
"If Mr. Colby decides to build up the ghost town, perhaps you could go there."
Darringer? Christie shook her head. She did not want to live there even if the old houses could be rebuilt. Anyway, there was no longer any way in since the landslide. There was only the back trail they had come out on after Libby's father had brought men from the Trading Post to help the station wagon over the wash. That was too bad for any tourists to want to travel.
"I hope you stay somewhere around here," Libby went on. "We could go to school together in the fall. I'm in the sixth grade now."
"So'm I. Or I was going to be. We left school early to drive out. But Mother has our books and once we settle in we're to do some work each day this summer so we can start where we're supposed to. Neal would go to junior high. And the twins start in second."
How far "back home" seemed now. Would they return? Christie found herself wishing they would not. She did not like waiting to decide things—she never had. She wanted to read the last page and right now!
They had supper in a restaurant and went back to the motel to wait for the TV program. In the lobby they met Mr. Cranford again. He was talking to Lucas Wildhorse and looked around at them with one of his face-warming smiles when they came in.
"This is a big night for you, isn't it?" he asked the children. "Mr. Wildhorse has taken pity on a stranger and has very kindly asked me to join you to watch the program. I hope you don't mind?"
Why did he want to? Christie wondered. But she did not have time to think about that very long, for he had come directly to her to say, "I have spoken to Sheriff Wylie and he says that if you are willing we can go to his office tomorrow and you can unpack Lady Maude for me. I have a daughter at home—she's some years older than you and Libby, but not too old to enjoy hearing about Lady Maude, who, I am sure, is not an ordinary doll at all."
For some reason Christie did not feel at all shy with Mr. Cranford. "No," she answered promptly. "Lady Maude is extra special. I don't think there is another doll like her in the whole world now!"
"You are probably very right, Christie," he agreed.
"Harvey," Lucas said to her father, "you might be interested in a couple of things Congressman Cranford has to say about Jemez."
"I trust you will." Mr. Cranford turned back to the older people, while Christie and Libby sat down on a settee in the lobby.
Mr. Charvez, the owner of the motel, had pulled the big TV set out a little, and the boys were helping him bring in extra chairs. Some of the guests had gathered to wait for the program. Why, Christie realized, they were going to have a regular audience when the time came to watch. Then Mr. Charvez turned out all the lights except the one behind the desk so they could see better.
Christie grasped Mother's hand tightly. Had they really done their speeches all right? Or would people laugh?
There was the announcer talking about Mr. Simmons, and then Mr. Simmons himself talking to the postmaster, showing off the old letters and the mailbag. Christie squirmed. She was eager, yet a little frightened, to see Libby and herself on the screen.
Now Mr. Simmons again.
"The two young ladies who had a part in the discovery of this unique find—Miss Christie Kimball and Miss Libby Wildhorse—"-
There they were. It was very queer to see yourself sitting talking when you knew you were here watching, But she had been all right. None of the shakiness she had felt showed. She was answering Mr. Simmons's questions in a voice you could hear clearly, showing off the parts of Lady Maude's wardrobe as he asked her to. And Libby was as good.
Then their part was over and the boys followed. It went smoothly for them also.
"Now"—Mr. Simmons was nearing the end— "I have another part of this story, an even more recent discovery, which will be told by Sheriff James Wylie. Sheriff Wylie—"
He told about finding the stagecoach and how it might even be the ghost coach of the old stories. He added what they suspected might be the true story—that the passengers had been driven off and killed for what they were carrying on their persons—but that might never be proven now.
The program came to an end and Mr. Charvez put the lights on. Then the other people staying in the motel gathered around the Kimball s and the Wildhorses to ask questions. Then Mother shooed the children off to their own rooms. She and Libby and Perks shared one room, the boys another.
"Chris," Libby asked through the da
rk, "do you think Mr. Cranford wants Lady Maude? Maybe the government will take her."
Christie had not thought of that before. "I don't know," she answered unhappily.
Tomorrow seemed a long way off, but Christie was more sleepy than she had thought and it was suddenly morning.
Mother and Father did not go the sheriffs office with Christie and Libby—they had business with Mr. Colby. But Mr. Cranford came to pick them up in a rented car. Sheriff Wylie took them into a small side room where Lady Maude's box waited on a table.
" 'Miss Maude Woodbridge, Woburnscott, Maine,' " Mr. Cranford read off the lettering. "She had a long way to travel, didn't she? And she never got home after all."
"She came from Hong Kong," Christie said, "and that's a long way, too. Clear from the other side of the ocean. And before that from France—"
"How do you know all that?"
Christie hesitated. The letter was no secret any longer. Still, it should have been turned over with those in the bag. However, she might as well tell.
"There was a letter inside the box. It was from Captain Asa Woodbridge to his little girl. He said that Lady Maude had been sent to Hong Kong from France for another little girl. Only when Lady Maude got there that girl had gone. So he bought Lady Maude to bring her here for his daughter's birthday. Then when he got to San Francisco there was another ship he had to sail on. so he sent Lady Maude with the mate from his ship who was going home."
"Where is this letter?"
Christie looked at Lady Maude. "I sent it to Maine. You see, Daddy said they would try to find the families of the people to whom those other letters were written. I wanted Lady Maude to go to her real home. If we couldn't keep her for our plan—"
"What plan?"
Again Christie hesitated, glancing from the doll to Mr. Cranford. "It was what we thought we could do to help make people want to stop at the station. We thought of making a kind of museum with things people would want to see. Then we could put up signs on the highway advertising it. We were hunting for arrowheads to use when we found Lady Maude and all the rest. For a while we hoped we could keep the things and have them to show. Then Mr. Toner—he—well—" The rest spilled out in a rush of words—the claim on the station, Mar-lene's demand to be given Lady Maude.
Norton, Andre - Novel 32 Page 13
