by Carol Norton
CHAPTER XXVI IS IT A CLUE?
The shot undeniably had been fired from the brush-tangled arroyo. Jerrystepped back that he might not be a helpless target while he conferredwith the other boys.
"I cain't understand it at all," he said. "If we missed getting one ofthe bandits, he wouldn't be staying around here. By this time, he'd bemiles away."
"You're right about that," Dick agreed. "My theory is that the man whocalled for help was the one who fired the shot."
Harry said, "Don't you think that possibly someone is hurt and fearingthat his call wasn't heard, he fired his gun to attract our attention? Hemay have heard our cars climbing the grade. They made noise enough."
Jerry, feeling convinced that this was more than likely a fact, wentagain to the edge of the arroyo, and, keeping hidden behind the jaggedpile of rocks, he looked intently through the dark tangle to the drycreek in the arroyo bottom. As his eyes became accustomed to the dimnesshe saw the figure of an old man lying on his back, one leg bent underhim, his arms thrown out helplessly. One hand held a gun. Undeniably heit was who had fired the shot.
Without waiting to inform the others of his decision, Jerry leaped overthe rocks and crashed through the brush. Dick and Harry followed a secondlater.
As they stood looking down at the wan face of a very old man their heartswere touched.
"Poor fellow," Jerry said, kneeling and lifting the hand that held thegun. "I reckon firing that shot was the last act he did in this life."
"I'm not so sure." Dick had opened the old man's torn shirt and waslistening to his heart. "He's still alive. Hadn't we better get him backto Tombstone to a doctor?"
For answer the boys lifted the stranger who was lighter than they haddreamed possible and carried him slowly back up to the road. The girls,awed and silent, asked if they could help, but Jerry shook his head. Athis suggestion the old man was placed at his side. The girls rolled theirsweater coats to place under his head and shoulders. Dick, from the back,through a tear in the curtain, held him in position.
Turning the cars was difficult but not impossible. Awed and in silencethey returned to town.
Dr. Conrad, luckily, was in his office in a small adobe building near thehotel. The old man was still breathing when he was carried in and laid ona couch. Restoratives quickly applied were effective and soon the tiredsunken eyes opened. The unkempt grizzled head turned restlessly, thenpleadingly he asked, "Jackie, have you seen him?"
There was such a yearning eagerness in the old man's face that Mary hatedto have to shake her head and say, "No."
Jerry asked, "Who is Jackie?" But the old man did not reply. As thoughthe effort had been too much for him, he closed his eyes and rested.
Dick exclaimed eagerly, "Jerry, you know that young boy we brought overwith the bandits. Couldn't we ask Deputy Sheriff Goode to bring him overhere? He would know if this old man belongs to the robber band, althoughthat boy certainly didn't look like a criminal."
The plan seemed a good one and was carried out. The boy, fair-haired andabout nine years old, cried out when he saw the old man and running tohim, threw himself down beside the lounge and sobbed, "Granddad!Granddad! Oh, _do_ wake up. I'm so glad you found me. I thought _this_time they'd make away with me for sure."
Slowly a smile spread over the wan features. The sunken eyes opened andlooked directly at the tear-wet face of the boy. "Jackie," the old mansaid, and there was infinite love in his voice. "Thank God you're safe!They've ruined me. They _mustn't_ ruin you. Go to Sister Theresa. Hidethere." For a long moment he breathed heavily, his gaze on the face ofthe boy he so loved. Then he made another effort to speak. "I'm dying,Jackie. I give you to Sister Theresa. Goodbye. Be--a--good boy."
The girls, unable to keep back their tears, turned away, but Mary,hearing the child's pitiful sobs, went over to him and, kneeling at hisside, put a comforting arm about him. Trustingly he leaned his headagainst her shoulder and clung to her as though he knew she must be afriend.
Later, when the boy's grief had been quieted, the young people, at thedoctor's suggestion, took him into another room and questioned him.
"How had he happened to be with the robber band?"
"Who was his grandfather?"
"Where would they find Sister Theresa that they might take him there ashis granddad had requested?"
Still in the loving shelter of Mary's arm, the boy, at first chokingly,then more clearly, told all that he knew. His grandfather, he said, hadbeen a marked man by that robber band. He had done something _years ago_to turn them against him, Jackie didn't know what. They had robbed him.They had destroyed his ranch and his cattle. They had stolen Jackie oncebefore, but he had gotten away that time, but this time they had watchedhim too closely. Granddad had been hunting for him.
Sister Theresa? She was a nun and lived in a convent on the Papagoreservation up to the north, quite far to the north, Jackie thought.
Deputy Sheriff Goode came in and listened to what Jerry had to tell himof the child's story. He nodded solemnly. "I know that good woman," hesaid; "she is one of the world's best. I reckon the kid's telling thetruth. If you have the time, Jerry, I wish you'd take him over thereright away."
The combination ambulance and police car was brought out. That it wasseldom used was evidenced by the sand on the seats and floor. Jerry droveit to a gas station and had the tank filled. Jackie, who clung to Mary asthough she alone could understand his grief, nestled close to her in thebig car.
Harry said to Jerry, "Old man, I think I'd better fly over. The Papagoreservation is close to Tucson, isn't it, and I must turn in a report.Then I'll join you all and come back with you perhaps."
"Oh, please do!" Mary called to him. "I want you to meet the nicest dadin the world. He'll be so interested in hearing about your trip from theEast."
A crowd of townspeople had gathered in the square and silently watched asthe big police car started and the "Seagull" took to the air.
As they were rumbling along, Dora, across from Mary, silently pointed atthe boy. "He's asleep, little dear," she said softly.
Dick was on the driver's seat with Jerry.
"Dora," Mary whispered, "how tangled up things are. We _were_ hunting forone child and find another. Something seems always to lead us fartheraway from solving the mystery of poor Little Bodil."
"I know," Dora agreed, "but after all, we could hardly expect, I suppose,after all these years, to unravel _that_ mystery."
It was not a long ride. The road was smooth and hard. The car rolledalong so rapidly that the forty miles were covered in less than an hour.Dora, looking out of the opening in the back of the wagon, was delightedwhen she saw tepees along the roadside. Also, there were small adobeshacks with yucca stalk fences and drying ears of corn and red peppers instrings hanging over them.
"Oh, how fascinating this place is!" she whispered. "Do look! There's aPapago family. The mother has her baby strapped to her back." The conventwas an unpretentious rambling adobe building painted a glistening white.Jerry turned in through an arched adobe gate over which stood a woodencross.
At a side door he stopped, got out and, climbing a few steps, pulled on arope which hung there. Almost at once the door was opened by asweet-faced nun who smiled a welcome. Jerry asked, "May we speak withSister Theresa?"
"Yes, will you come in?" Then, glancing out at the car and seeing the twogirls, she added hospitably, "all of you."
Jerry lifted out the sleeping boy and carried him into the long, coolwaiting room. The sister who had opened the door had gone to call SisterTheresa and so she did not see the child.
Mary glanced skyward before she entered the convent and, seeing thesilver plane circling about, wondered if Harry would be able to land.Evidently he decided that it would be unwise, for he was dropping thesmall aluminum bottle once again. Mary ran to the spot where it fell andread the note. "Unsafe to land on the sand. Will return to Tombstone andwait for you there."
Dora
glanced at Mary's face and saw an expression which told herdisappointment. Once again she thought, "Poor Jerry!"
Dick, who had waited for them, said, "He's a wise bird, that HarryHulbert. He takes no chances." Then they three went indoors and joinedJerry who, seated on a bench, held the sleeping child.
