“Come on, it’s going to be fun,” Nancy told them as she gathered an armload of branches. Though she would rather be investigating, she was determined to have a good time.
“Let me know when the fun starts,” Bess suggested, but she smiled in spite of herself.
The entire group helped cook hash, biscuits, and coffee over the open fire. After dinner, they flipped a coin, and Sam and Ellen Anderson won the honors of doing dishes. Grumbling good-naturedly, Sam rolled up his sleeves.
“This will be good for him,” Ellen said, winking at Nancy.
The rest of the group helped secure the horses and the camp.
Mike played guitar as shadows lengthened through the woods. Evening birds cooed, and the creek gurgled over stones. Through the branches overhead, Nancy could see the first stars winking in a lavender twilight sky.
Eventually, the dishes were finished and the camp secure. Mike put his guitar away. Hank poured everyone another cup of coffee and passed around a bag of Peggy’s oatmeal cookies.
As night fell, the only light in the forest was the red glow from dying embers of the fire and a few pale beams filtering through the branches from the full moon.
“This isn’t so bad after all,” Bess admitted, adding three lumps of sugar to her coffee as she sat cross-legged near the fire. “Maybe I will get some sleep after all.”
A few minutes later, Bess and Nancy walked along a crooked trail to the creek to wash their faces. Nancy’s flashlight beam bounced ahead, but she suddenly clicked the flashlight off and touched Bess’s hand with hers. Bess understood the silent message and stopped short. Neither girl made a sound.
Nancy squinted through the trees and saw Mike Mathews talking softly with a young woman. Moonlight streamed through the branches, streaking the girl’s pale hair with silver. The girl was Stella Baines! What was she doing with Mike? Stella wasn’t part of the campout!
Signaling to Bess, Nancy moved forward slowly, her footsteps muffled by the pine needles. She strained to listen, but over the gurgle of the creek and the conversation back at the camp, she couldn’t hear what Stella and Mike were saying.
“. . . Twister . . . rodeo,” Stella said.
“. . . worry too much,” Mike responded, patting her shoulder. Nancy leaned forward, holding her breath.
“. . . go before I’m missed,” he said, then turned and dashed through the trees.
Nancy followed Stella, hoping that the bareback rider would lead her to Renegade. Had Stella ridden him here?
Stella crossed the creek on a narrow log, climbed onto her bay mare, and took off toward the west end of the Circle B.
Nancy returned to the other side of the creek, where Bess was waiting. “Well?” Bess asked expectantly.
“I couldn’t hear much. But Stella and Mike know more than they’re telling. I heard them discussing the rodeo and Twister.”
“I knew it!” Bess cried.
“Now, if only we can catch them,” Nancy thought aloud. They started back toward the camp and ran into George.
“You must be squeaky clean by now,” George observed. “Hank sent me looking for you.”
“We’d better get back,” Nancy said, then filled George in as they hurried along the trail.
“So what about Vern Landon and Rob Majors?” George asked. “Are they linked up with Mike and Stella?”
“I don’t know,” Nancy admitted, puzzled. “Either they’re all in it together, or Landon’s not involved at all.”
“Maybe they’re at cross purposes,” George suggested. “They could be working against each other without even knowing it.”
“You mean Stella and Mike are trying to keep Tammy out of the rodeo because Stella wants to win, and—”
George cut Bess off. “—Landon and Majors are trying to force her to sell so they can get the ranch!”
“I wonder,” Nancy said thoughtfully.
“Okay, folks,” Hank said as the girls approached camp. He shot Nancy a questioning glance and said, “Let’s call it a night. We have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow.”
Nancy started for her sleeping bag but was surprised to see that the bag had been dragged several yards away from where she’d left it, farther in the trees. “That’s odd,” she said.
“What is?” Bess asked.
“My bag’s been unrolled and moved.”
“Well, move it back. Come on, I’m tired.”
“Okay.” Nancy reached for the bag but stopped when she heard an unfamiliar noise—like pebbles shaking together. Her skin crawled and her mouth went dry as she tugged on the bag. The noise stopped.
Nancy’s heart was thudding. What was inside? Before she climbed into the bag, Nancy unzipped it carefully and tossed open the top flap.
Eyes glittered back at her in the dark. Nancy gasped. On the flannel lining was a coiled rattlesnake ready to strike!
11
Sidewinder!
Bess screamed, and George, reacting quickly, threw her own bag over the snake.
Mike sprinted across the campsite. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a rattlesnake in my bag!” Nancy said. Her gaze was glued to the writhing bags.
“A what?”
He pulled back George’s bag, and the snake tried to escape by sidewinding toward the woods. But Mike was quick. He tossed the end of Nancy’s sleeping bag over the snake again and, rolling it quickly, tied the bag with the cord. The snake was trapped inside, still wriggling as Mike dropped the bag onto the ground.
“How’d that happen?” Mike asked. His eyes narrowed.
“How’d what happen?” Hank asked, running from the makeshift corral where the horses were tethered.
“Nancy ended up with a rattlesnake in her bag.”
Hank looked surprised. “Is this some kind of joke?” he demanded. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I had nothing to do with it! Someone unrolled my bag and put the snake in there,” Nancy insisted. “I hadn’t even unzipped my bedroll yet.”
That’s impossi—
“I’m not staying here another minute!” Mrs. Mason cut in. “I want to go back to the ranch!”
“Now, just simmer down,” Hank suggested.
“Simmer down?” she repeated, astounded. “Simmer down? Not on your life! You’re the ranch foreman—you find a way to get me off this mountain!”
Hank sighed loudly. “The way I see it, you’ve got two choices. Either you stay up here with the rest of the group, or you ride horseback in the dark through the trees with me for a couple hours until I find a safe spot and set this critter free.”
Mrs. Mason gulped and glanced around the black, eerie woods. “I—I guess I’ll stay,” she decided, her voice trembling.
“Good.” Hank snatched the wriggling bedroll from the ground. “Now, the rest of you, check your bags before you climb inside. Nancy, you can use my bedroll.”
They all carefully opened their bags and shone flashlights in along the seams. All the sleeping bags were empty.
Nancy settled in between Bess and George. Closing her eyes, she tried to will herself to sleep, but her mind was churning with unanswered questions. Had Mike put the snake in her bag? Or Stella? But how—and when? In her mind’s eye, she envisioned the frightened sidewinder trying to escape. A long time later, she finally dozed off.
• • •
The next morning was uneventful. The campers ate a breakfast of bacon and eggs, then broke camp.
On the ride back to the ranch, Bess groaned and shifted on Marshmallow’s back. “All I want is a long, hot bubble bath, a couple of fashion magazines, and two hours in a soft bed.”
“And all I want is to find Renegade,” Nancy responded. She felt she was getting closer. She was sure Mike Mathews was the key.
Once they were back at the ranch and had cared for their horses, the girls returned to their rooms to clean up. Bess insisted on resting, but Nancy wanted to investigate Vern Landon. George agreed to drive into town with her for a visit
to the library. They borrowed a pickup from Tammy, and, fortunately this time, they had no problem.
“I thought you had just about taken Vern Landon off the suspect list,” George remarked as they parked in front of a cement-block building on the main street of the small town.
“I just want to make sure,” Nancy said. She pocketed the keys. “I really think Mike’s involved somehow, but I don’t want to leave any stone unturned.”
In the air-conditioned library, Nancy and George searched through old newspapers and microfiche, learning as much as they could about Vern Landon. There were several articles on him and the land he had developed in Montana, but his reputation seemed clean and reputable.
“Looks like a dead end,” George said, rubbing her eyes.
“Maybe,” Nancy agreed. “Besides, he would have had to have an accomplice working with him, someone at the ranch who could do his dirty work with Renegade, the car, and the snake.”
“Someone like Mike Mathews?”
Nancy nodded. “But I’ve never seen them together. It just doesn’t fit.” Placing the final case of microfiche back into the drawer of the metal file cabinet, she sighed, her thoughts still jumbled. “I guess that leaves us with Stella and Mike.”
“You think they’re in it together?”
“They must be,” Nancy said as she walked down one aisle, but she stopped when she spied a long row of encyclopedias. “Wait a minute,” she said, pulling out the S volume.
“Now what?”
“Remember the snake last night?” Nancy thumbed through the pages.
“How could I forget?”
“Something about it bothered me.”.
“A lot of things about it bothered me,” George remarked. She leaned over Nancy’s shoulder.
Nancy found the section on rattlesnakes and studied the pictures. “They’re all different—diamondbacks, timber snakes, sidewinders. There are even eastern and western versions.”
“Our ‘friend’ comes from a big family. So what?”
Nancy’s blue eyes twinkled. She snapped the volume shut. “I know what it is!” she exclaimed.
“So tell!”
“That snake wasn’t from this area, George! Remember how it crawled sideways? It was a desert sidewinder!” Nancy met her friend’s eyes. “There’s no desert in Misty Canyon.”
George’s brows shot up. “A clue. But what does it mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Nancy conceded. “But I intend to find out!” As they walked out of the cool library and climbed into the truck, Nancy went on, “It doesn’t quite fit. Mike seems to care about the horses. I don’t think he’d intentionally risk hurting Twister or Renegade.”
As they approached the turnoff for Calloway Dude Ranch, Nancy stepped on the accelerator, driving past the lane.
“Hey, where are you going?” George asked.
“I think it’s time we had a talk with Stella Baines,” Nancy replied with a smile.
“I doubt if she’ll want to.”
“Let’s just see what she has to say.”
The Circle B was as different from Calloway Dude Ranch as night from day. All the buildings were freshly stained a deep redwood color, and the main house sparkled white in the late-afternoon sun. With a broad front porch, columns, and green shutters on the windows, the three-story house looked like it belonged on a southern plantation.
“Look at this place,” George said with a soft whistle.
Ranch hands and guests were scattered in the tree-shaded yard, and the bustle of activity filled the air. Children laughed as they played on a wooden playground or rode ponies. The tantalizing smell of roasting chicken caused Nancy’s stomach to growl, reminding her that she had missed lunch.
“This looks more like an anthill than a dude ranch,” George observed as they climbed out of the pickup. “It’s swarming with workers!” Stable boys walked horses and instructed the guests on care of the horses. Ranch hands came and went, doing chores.
Nancy knocked on the front door and was greeted by a severe-looking, graying blond woman in her fifties. With thin lips, she introduced herself as Joy Baines, Nathaniel’s sister.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, blocking the doorway.
“We’re looking for Stella,” Nancy said.
“Are you fans of hers?” the woman asked.
“Actually, we’re guests at the Calloway Dude Ranch. Tammy asked us to help her find Renegade.”
“I heard he escaped,” Joy Baines said, the edges of her full lips turning down. “It was bound to happen, you know. That stallion has a mean streak that won’t quit. But Stella wouldn’t know anything about the horse.” The woman glanced at her watch. “She should be back any minute.”
“Back?” Nancy asked. “Where is she?”
Joy Baines eyed her warily. “She’s practicing, and she prefers to do it in private, away from all the hubbub of the ranch.” Grudgingly, she added, “You can wait inside if you like.”
“Is it possible to talk with Stella’s father?”
Joy Baines frowned. “I don’t know. Nathaniel went into town earlier, but he should be back. Why don’t you check with one of the hands?”
“Thanks,” Nancy said as the woman shoved the door closed in her face.
They asked a young stable boy who was repairing a fence about Nathaniel, and he pointed to a long, low building he referred to as the zoo.
“The zoo?” George repeated.
“That’s right. The reptile zoo,” the hand said. “Haven’t you heard of it? You’d better wait outside, though. Mr. Baines doesn’t want anyone in there today.”
Nancy and George exchanged glances. “Why not?” Nancy asked.
The hand shrugged. “I don’t know. The foreman just said it was off-limits. If I see Mr. Baines, I’ll tell him you’re waiting up at the house.”
“Sure,” Nancy said. She and George headed back to the main house. When the ranch hand turned his attention to his work, Nancy ducked behind one of the outbuildings, pulling George with her. They walked between two fences to the back door of the zoo.
“You don’t suppose they happen to have an exhibit of desert sidewinders in here, do you?” Nancy asked George.
“Let’s find out.”
Together they pushed open the door and walked past the glass cages of exotic animals. There were snakes, horned toads, lizards, turtles, and a few desert rodents. Nancy made her way through the cages but stopped short when she heard an angry hissing behind her. She turned to find a small Gila monster glaring at her.
“Look, Nancy, over here!” George pointed to an empty glass cage. The nameplate made it clear that a desert sidewinder was the missing inhabitant.
The door opened with a bang. “Get away from there!” Nathaniel Baines shouted, his face red with fury. “No one’s supposed to be in here! There’s a rattler loose!”
“I know,” Nancy replied. “I found him in my sleeping bag last night.”
Nathaniel stopped dead in his tracks. At that moment, Nancy noticed his belt and its flashing silver buckle, just like the one she’d seen as she’d been attacked in Twister’s stall. “You found it where?” Nathaniel bellowed.
Nancy explained about the campout and the sidewinder but left out the part about seeing his daughter with Mike Mathews.
At first unconvinced, Nathaniel listened and shook his head. “You’re sure about this?” he asked, lifting his hat and wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. “Hank West let my snake go?”
“He didn’t know it was yours,” Nancy pointed out.
Nathaniel’s neck turned dark red. “So how did the sidewinder get up at the campsite in your bag?”
“Someone put it there—someone who can handle snakes.”
He glanced nervously away from Nancy’s eyes. “That could be anyone on this ranch,” Nathaniel said. “But I trust my hands implicitly—ever since Mathews left, we haven’t had any trouble.”
“You mean Mike Mathews?”
Nath
aniel’s jaw hardened. “He’s a criminal, that one. I wouldn’t put a stunt like this past him—he’d probably do it just to get back at me.”
“So all your hands can work with snakes?” George asked.
“Absolutely. And they know how to treat snakebite, too. Those rattlers are dangerous!”
“Has Mike Mathews been around lately?” Nancy asked.
“Not on your life!” Nathaniel scowled darkly. “I won’t allow him to set foot on this place. He used to see my daughter, Stella, but I put a stop to that when I caught him thieving.”
“Stella doesn’t date him anymore?” Nancy asked.
“Of course not! She realizes that he was just a cheap hand trying to get in good with her because of this ranch and all the money it’s worth. She doesn’t have time for people like Mathews. She’s too busy with that rodeo coming up on the fourth. If Stella wins that prize, she’ll get a commercial endorsement and maybe a part in a movie, plus a national rodeo tour!”
“So it’s important to her,” Nancy murmured.
“Very. It could change her life,” Nathaniel said proudly as he ushered the girls outside. He glanced at the sun hanging over the hills on the west end of the spread. “I guess I’d better drive over to the Calloway place right now and find out how Hank intends paying me for my snake.” Still muttering under his breath, he stalked through the door.
Nancy and George found their way back to the pickup.
“So it looks like Mike’s our man,” George said.
“Maybe.” Nancy started the pickup and drove down the gravel lane. “How about a soda?” she asked, and George nodded eagerly. They drove to the Williams store, and each bought a bottle of cola.
As they drove back to Calloway Ranch, Nancy said, “If Mike really cares about Stella, why would he want her to win the rodeo? That would mean she might move away.”
“Yeah, but he’s a bronco rider himself, right? He could follow her. And that would get her away from her dad. Or maybe he’s just doing it because it’s what she wants.” George glanced fondly at her friend. “You’ve been known to go out of your way to help a certain football quarterback at Emerson College.”
Nancy smiled at the thought of Ned Nickerson, her longtime boyfriend. She missed Ned right now and wished he were there. Sometimes just talking to Ned made the most complex cases easier to deal with.
The Mystery of Misty Canyon Page 8