The Phantom Town Mystery

by Carol Norton

  CHAPTER XXI A POSSIBLE CLUE

  At five, which was the invalid's supper hour, Mary emerged from theliving-room and heard excited voices from behind the closed door of herfather's study across the hall.

  Dora, who had been listening for her friend's footsteps, threw the doorwide. Her olive-tinted face told Mary that something had happened evenbefore Jerry exclaimed: "Little Sister, come here and see what Dick hasfound. We think it's a clue."

  "A clue about Little Bodil _here_ in Dad's study?" Mary's voice wasamazed and doubting.

  "Oh, it's something Dick himself brought into the house. Don't tell,"Dora implored the boys. "See if Mary can guess."

  The fair girl gazed thoughtfully at the other three. Dick, beaming uponher, was holding something behind his back.

  "Hmm. Let me see." Mary put one slim white finger against her head, asthough trying to think deeply. Then she laughed merrily. "I'd like toseem terribly dumb and drag out the suspense for you all, but, of course,it's as plain as the sun on a clear day. Dick only kept _one_ thing fromthe trunk, and that one thing was a small carpet slipper. But I don't seehow _that_ could possibly be a clue."

  "Very well, my dear young lady, we will show you." Dick handed theslipper to her. "First, thrust your dainty fingers into its toe. Do youfind a clue there?"

  "No, I do not." Mary was frankly curious.

  "Now, turn the slipper over. What do you see?"

  Mary turned the small worn slipper wonderingly and reported, "A loosepatch." Then, gleefully, "Oh, I know, Dick, that patch is some kind ofcoarse paper and on the inside of it, there's writing. Is that it? Have Iguessed right?"

  "Well," Dick confessed, "you know now as much as we do. We were justabout to remove the patch when you came in. Jerry, let me take yourknife. I left mine on a fence post over at _Bar N_."

  The four young people stood close to one of the long windows while Dickcut the coarse thread that held the patch.

  "Oh, do hurry!" Dora begged. "Your fingers are all thumbs. Here, let medo that." But Dick shook his head, saying boyishly, "It's my slipper,isn't it?"

  "One more stitch and we shall know all," Jerry said, then, smiling acrossat Mary, he asked, "What do _you_ reckon that we will know?"

  "I can't guess what's _in_ the letter, of course," that little maidreplied, "but it _can't_ be anything that will tell us whether the childwas eaten up by wild animals or carried off by bandits."

  The ragged piece of brown paper, which had evidently been torn from apackage wrapping, was removed and opened. Although there had been writingon it at one time, it was so blurred that it was hard to decipher. Maryfound a magnifying glass in her father's desk. Dora, Dick and Jerry stoodwith their heads together back of the younger girl's chair, and when theythought they had figured a word out correctly, Mary, seated at the desk,wrote it down. After half an hour, they had made out only two words ofthe message and had guessed at the blurred signature.

  "lonesome--write--Miss Burger, Gray Bluffs, New Mexico."

  There were several other words which they could not make out.

  Mary took the letter, spread it on the desk before her and gazed intentlyat it through the magnifying glass. Then, smiling up at the others, atwinkle in her eyes, she said, "This is it--perhaps.

  'Dear Little Bodil,

  When you reach the strange place where you are going, you may be lonesome. If you are, do write often to your good friend,

  Miss Burger.'"

  "Well, I reckon that'll do pretty nigh as well as anything else," Jerrysaid. Then, glancing out of the window at the late afternoon sun, hegrinningly announced that since the calf, by that time, had milked thecow, he and Dick would accept Mary's previously given invitation and stayfor supper.

  "Oh, Jerry!" Mary stood up and caught hold of the cowboy's arm. "I knowby the gleam in your eyes that you think this bit of paper _may_ be aclue worth following up."

  "Yes, I sure do," was the earnest reply. "I reckon this Miss Burger, ifwe got the name right, was a friend to the little girl somewhere,sometime."

  "Shall we write to her now?" Mary dropped back into the desk chair. "Ifshe's living, she will surely answer."

  "But," Dick was not yet convinced that it was a helpful clue, "_how_ canMiss Burger know--"

  "Stupid!" Dora interrupted. "Of course Miss Burger _won't_ know whetherLittle Bodil was eaten by wild animals or carried off by bandits, but_if_ the child lived, it's more than likely, isn't it, that she _did_write and tell this friend."

  "True enough!" Dick agreed. "But, Lady Sleuth, if Bodil wrote Miss Burgertelling where _she_ was, isn't it likely that Mr. Pedersen also wrote thesame woman telling where _he_ was, and presto, his long search would beover. He would have found his child."

  "Oh, of course, Dick! You weren't stupid after all." Dora was properlyapologetic. Then, she added ruefully, "Since this clue isn't any good, wegot thrilled up over it for nothing at all."

  Jerry spoke in his slow drawl. "I cain't be sure the clue is no gooduntil we've heard from this Miss Burger."

  "Well spoken, old man," Dick commended. "If we could send a night-letter,we _might_ have an answer at once, if--"

  "That 'if' looms large," Dora commented dubiously. "There isn't atelegraph office in _this_ ghost town, and, moreover, Miss Burger may notbe alive and if she is, wouldn't she be _awfully_ ancient?"

  "Not necessarily," Mary replied, glancing up at the others thoughtfully."If Little Bodil _is_ alive, she will be about fifty. This Miss Burgermay have been a very young woman."

  "About that night telegram," Jerry said. "We can have one sent out ofTombstone up to nine o'clock. What, say that we ride over there as soonas we've had supper."

  "Great!" Dick ejaculated. "There'll be a full moon to light us homeagain."

  Mary sprang up and clapped her hands gleefully. "It will be jolly funanyway. And it _may_ be a good clue. Come on now, let's storm the kitchenand help Carmelita. We ought to start as soon as we can."

  * * * * * * * *

  It was early twilight when the faithful little car (that always seemedjust about to fall apart but which never did) drew up in front of thecombination blacksmith shop-oil station on the edge of Gleeson.

  Seth Tully, one of the grizzled, leathery old-timers, hobbled out of asmall, crumbling adobe building. It was evident that he was much excitedabout something and eager to have someone to talk to.

  "Howdy, folks," he began in his high, uncertain, falsetto voice, "Ireckon as you-all heerd how a freight train was held up last night overin Dead Hoss Gulch." Then, seeing the boys' amazement and the girls'dismay, he went on exultingly, "Yes, siree! Thar was bags of rich ore inone o' them cars--the hindmost one, an', time take it, if them tharbandits wa'n't wise to it. The train allays goes durn slow along thatsteep grade climbing up out o' the gulch. Well, sir, _what_ did thembandits do?" The old man was becoming dramatic in his delight at havingsuch thrilled listeners. "Dum blast it, if a parcel of 'em didn't hold upthe engineer and another parcel of 'em cut loose that hind car. _Crash_it went back'ards down that thar grade, jumped the track and smashed tosmithers."

  "Oh, Mr. Tully," Mary cried, "_was_ anyone killed?"

  The old man shook his head. "Nope, the guard wa'n't kilt, but thembandits reckoned as how he was, 'totherwise they'd have plugged him. Hecome to, but they'd cleared out, the whule pack of 'em, an' they'd tukthe ore with 'em."

  Dora, watching the old man's glittering, pale-blue eyes that weredeep-sunken under shaggy brows, thought that he seemed actually pleasedabout it all, nor was she wrong as his next remark showed.

  "Say, Jerry-kid, that thar holdup smacks o' old times. It was gettin' toogol-darned quiet around these here parts. Needed suthin' like this tosort o' liven us up." He ended with a cack
ling laugh that made Maryshudder.

  When they were again rattling along the lonely, rutty road which led toTombstone, the nearest town of any size, Mary, nestling close to Jerry,asked, "Big Brother, is Dead Horse Gulch near here?"

  "No, Little Sister, it isn't, and, as for the bandits, they're over theborder in Mexico by now, I reckon. Don't you go to worrying about_them_!"

  In the rumble seat, a glowing-eyed Dora was saying: "Dick Farley, _what_if this should be the _same_ robber gang--oh, I'm trying to say--"

  "I get you!" Dick put in. "You're wondering if the three bandits who heldup the stage and may have kidnapped Little Bodil are _in_ this gang. Idoubt it. They'd be _old_ fellows by now. It takes young blood to dodeeds of daring."

  Dora's eyes were still glowing. "Dick," she said prophetically, "I have ahunch that _this_ robbery is going to do a lot to help us solve themystery about Little Bodil. I _may_ be wrong, but, _you_ may besurprised."