by Andre Norton
When the station wagon pulled up before the Gordon House, Christie was impressed. It seemed to have more life about it than the rest of the buildings. Lucas crossed the lower porch and pushed against double doors, the upper parts of which were filled in places with still unbroken panes of glass colored dark red, yellow, green, and blue.
The others followed him into a wide room that had a staircase up one side. In the middle was a big round seat with dusty cushions still on it. There was a desk with a pigeonholed wall cupboard behind, and tatters of lace curtains hung before the boarded-up windows. Lucas and Father both used flashlights and the gleam of those showed an archway into another room, where there were tables and chairs.
"Lobby, dining room— Even the old ledger was left." Lucas went to the desk and blew a cloud of dust off the big book lying there. "Wonder who registered last."
He opened the book, sending up more puffs of dust. "Let's see now—January nineteen twenty—just one entry—Philip Briggs, San Francisco."
"Now we'll make our entry legal." Lucas took a pen from his shirt pocket.
" 'April, nineteen eighty, Lucas Wildhorse, Libby Wildhorse, Toliver Wildhorse, Ten Mile Station, Arizona.' Your turn, Harvey."
He passed the pen to Father, who, smiling, wrote in turn, reading aloud as he went: " 'Harvey Kimball, Christie Kimball, Neal Kimball, Patrick and Patricia Kimball, Thai Shan Kimball, Baron Kimball, Ten Mile Station, Arizona.' "
"We may not be regular overnight guests," he added, "but I think we can make good use of a table and few chairs and—food—right now."
The rain broke so suddenly it was almost an explosion of water and wind. It pounded against 4he walls, drove in through the broken panes of the big door.
"We'll make a dash for the baskets. You children stay right here," Father ordered before he and Lucas ran for the station wagon. Luckily that had been parked close to the porch. Father and Lucas both had wet shirts before they were back with baskets and canteens.
"Here." Father tossed a roll of paper toweling to Christie. "You children wipe off one of the tables. Listen!" He paused and for a moment all they could hear was the wild drumming of the rain. "This sounds like a regular cloudburst. At least this place seems dry—if you keep away from the door."
The rain swept in through the broken panes almost as far as the round seat in the lobby. Now the whole of the inside of the hotel was very dark and gloomy. Even their flashlights were swallowed up into small glows.
Christie, as she dusted the nearest table, working beside Libby, with Neal and Toliver just across from her, found herself looking over her shoulder now and then into corners that seemed very dark indeed. But they were all here together—she was not alone—and they were safe out of the storm. She wadded up the dirty paper and left it on another table. Shan hissed fretfully and she picked him up to hold tight. There was nothing to be afraid of here— surely there was not.
11
The Sealed Valley
Lucas turned on a camp lantern like those they had used to explore the cave and it gave enough light for the long table through the gloom of the big room. After lunch Shan was the only one now who wanted to explore. He tugged at the leash Christie had put around a chair leg and demanded in sharp cries to be let loose.
"Must be mice here," Libby said.
"What would they eat?" Perks asked. "There's no food except what we have."
"Field mice," Libby explained. "They'd find their food outside but would live in here."
"We can't go out in this storm." Lucas had gone to the front door. "There's a regular flood running down the street. Might as well explore in here."
They repacked the picnic baskets and set out to do just that. Behind the dining room was an even darker kitchen with a big stove, yellow with rust, and shelves on which were gathered a few pieces of thick china black with dust and dirt.
On the opposite side of the lobby, having passed through another archway, they found a long bar behind which hung the fragments of a mirror, most of which had been broken away. Some bottles still stood under that and there were more chairs and tables. At the other end of the room the lantern light struck a platform three steps above the regular floor, a curtain hanging in tatters on either side of that.
"Gave shows here, I suppose." Father took more camera shots with his light bulbs snapping, startling in the gloom.
From there they went up the stairs to the second floor, Lucas, in the lead, testing each step with care before he put his full weight upon it. There was a hall with doors open along it. Some of the rooms were empty. In one or two were beds with springs but no mattresses, and in some a washstand or a chest of drawers. All were dark because of shuttered windows along the front of the building.
Lucas paused before one door that was shut and had to put his shoulder to it before it came open. Rain instantly swept in and they looked out on the balcony above the street.
"Hey, all the rain's coming in!" Neal jumped back and Christie expected Lucas to close the door. Instead he stood straining out until Father came out of another room.
"What's the matter?"
Now Lucas pulled the door shut. "Just taking a look," he said slowly. "Might be more damage after a burst like this one."
They went back downstairs while the rain came in fierce gusts. Father warned them to stay away from the windows—even those that were boarded up. Twice they heard loud crashes. Perks ran to Father and held on to him tightly, burying her face in his shirt. Baron cowered and whimpered. Shan used his claws to climb Christie as if she were a tree, hanging on to her shirt front, his ears flat against his head.
Father said he thought that some more of the old buildings must be breaking up under the pounding of the furious wind. Each storm in its time must add to the damage. Twice he went closer to the front door to look out at the station wagon. Once Neal crept along after him and came back to report that the water was running along halfway up the wheels of the car and the street looked like a river.
Runnels of the rain oozed in under the front doors as well as trickled from the broken panes. The dark red of the old carpet showed through in patches as the water washed the dust away.
"How long do these storms last?" Father finally asked Lucas.
The Navajo shrugged. "It's anyone guess. Though this is decidedly more forceful than usual."
"I don't like this!" Perks quavered. "I want to go home!"
"We can't drive through a rain like this," Neal told her.
"Come on, Perks." Christie put her arm about the younger girl. "Why this is a regular adventure. Aren't we lucky to have found so good a place to stay out of the storm? Oh— look at Shan!"
The cat had jumped from her shoulder only a moment ago, and was now crouched, only the tip of his outstretched tail quivering slightly as he crept forward very slowly, getting ready to spring on something only he could see. Then he pounced and sat for a moment, both fore-paws pinning down his prey.
"A mouse!" Christie hurried to rescue the captive and then stopped short with a cry of disgust as Shan's prisoner was shown to be, as he raised one paw, a very large black beetle.
"Nasty thing! You don't want that, Shan!" Christie used the edge of one of the newspapers they had spread for a tablecloth to flip the insect out of the way. Surely it was not the only one here and she began to agree with Perks that it would be better to get out of this dark, queer-smelh'ng place and head home again.
Shan tugged at his leash, trying to follow the scuttling beetle. Christie heard Baron barking at the door.
Lucas was talking to Father. "It's slacking off now. If this had lasted much longer it would have washed most of the town away."
The wind and the drum of the rain were lessening. It was not long before they were able to go out on the porch and look down the street to where the shrinking stream had cut new gullies in the earth, even carried away sections of the broken plank sidewalk.
"What's the matter with the road—up there?" Neal pointed to the rise down which they had driven into Darring
er.
Christie took off her glasses, rubbed them dry on the tail of her shirt, and settled them once more on her nose, sure she had not seen properly before. The rise looked queer. Studying it, she was alarmed to see the road had gone! There was just a big hole there, as if half the ground had just disappeared! What had happened?
"Cave-in," said Lucas. He frowned and Father looked very sober.
"Is there another road out?"
"There could be. Rougher track that leads through the reservation. It's either try that or I walk out for horses and we come for the car later. There must have been a mine cutting under that ridge that brought it down when the ground loosened."
Did that mean they would have to stop here— maybe overnight? Christie shivered and drew nearer to Father. She did not want to be in Darringer in the full dark—the ghost town seemed more and more strange and threatening.
Father, looking up at the gray sky, a little lighter now, asked another question. "Is there liable to be another such downpour, do you think?"
Lucas was studying those same clouds. "I'd say no. Let me scout that other way out. The worst parts are those closest to town. Once we're through these hills the going's level—if rough. It will take us longer to get back, but I'd say it is the only way out after that landslip."
He rummaged in the car and brought out a square of waterproof plastic with a hole in the center for his head, and he tucked his Levi pants into his boots. Then he set out, jumping over the deep cuts made by the streams of water. Before he disappeared around the corner of the hotel he called back, "You'd better try the motor, to be sure it isn't flooded out."
"Will do!" Father looked at the children. "You," he told them in a no-argue voice, "stay right here."
As he splashed out to the station wagon, Perks's hand crept into Christie's.
"Chris—suppose—suppose we can't get home—"
"But we will!" Christie said in as sure a voice as she could use. "If we can't take the car, then Libby's father will be back with horses and we'll ride. That will be a real adventure! Of course we can get home all right!"
"I don't like adventures like this," Perks said doubtfully.
"Why don't we get the baskets and the canteens, and Shan, and have everything ready to load into the car?" Libby suggested. "Come on."
The boys did not follow, but Christie was glad Libby had thought of doing this. She was even ready to go, as long as Libby held the lighted camp lantern, into the big kitchen with the rubbish—packing that into the rusty stove while Libby lighted a match to burn it.
Afterward, they poured water over the stove fire and the charred remains of the rubbish. But the kitchen was so dark, they were very glad to go out on the porch again.
Father not only had the car running but had backed up and turned around to face in the direction Lucas had gone. Now he had a big map spread out on the steering wheel and was studying it. Seeing the girls, he beckoned to them.
"We might as well load up. We don't want to waste any time if the road out can be followed. There is a trail marked on this, but since it goes through the reservation, it will take us longer to get back to the station."
The last drizzle of rain had stopped. Water still dripped from the roofs of the houses and trickled in thinner streams down the road. They got in the car and waited. It was not too long before Lucas came again around the hotel and waved them on. Father drove slowly, stopping to pick him up.
"I think we have a clear road through the worst of the hill part," Lucas reported. "Also I do know the trail well enough to take that way. We had better get as far along as we can while it is still daylight."
The station wagon passed a barn. Half of the roof had fallen in and a mass of decayed hay hung over the edge of the break. Toliver pointed up and beyond that.
"There's an entrance to a mine—see?"
It was difficult to make out, but there was a square opening into a hillside and more half-ruined buildings. Christie held on to one side of the seat, Shan on her knees, while Libby and Perks clung to the other as the car dipped, bumped, and skidded a little, Father struggling with the wheel to hold it straight on a very narrow track.
Parky let out a whoop of excitement from the seat just behind. "Up and down—like the boop-doop in the park!"
"This isn't fun!" Christie turned on him. "Keep quiet, Parky!"
"Yes, shut up!" Neal snapped. "Don't yell in Dad's ears now!"
"You can't—" Parky began, when his brother swooped on him to place a hand firmly over his mouth, saying fiercely, "I can and will! You just keep quiet!"
He must have startled Parky, for the younger boy did not fight against his grip, only stared at his brother in astonishment. Christie closed her eyes and then opened them again. She did not know which was worse—to feel the car slipping around or to see the outside swing back and forth beyond its windows. There was a last bump and they crawled on without so much skidding. Now they were in a valley between two hills. Water still washed down the sides of those and was thrown back up by the wheels of the car.
As they were heading up a rise a little later, Christie heard Lucas say, "That sees us through the worst bit."
"I certainly hope so!" was Father's answer.
It was getting lighter. Finally the sun broke through the clouds. Christie sighed in relief. It made her feel better—and this road was not any bumpier than the one they had taken into Dar-ringer.
"This is the old trail to Broken Tooth and Last Candle," Lucas said. "We turn off at a big rock that looks like a broken tooth. From then on we strike across country, taking our bearings on Tall Spur in the west."
"I'll leave the guiding to you," Father told him. "This must be a long way around, though."
"It is. We can stop at the trader's at Two Rock if we have to. If the phone's out—it generally is after a storm such as this one—one of the boys there can take the upper trail and let them know at the station where we are and what happened. That's the best we can do."
"If it's the best, then that will have to be it," Father agreed.
Broken Tooth was indeed a queer-looking rock. Neal echoed Christie's thought when he said he thought it did not look much like a tooth.
"Not a human tooth," Lucas agreed, "but it does resemble the fang of a cougar with the tip broke off. Now, left here, Harvey."
Father obediently swung the station wagon out of the traces of the old trail onto the open land. However, they had gone only a little distance when Lucas called, "Pull up!"
Luckily Father had been going slowly. The front wheels were very close to a big cut across the ground. He and Lucas got out and walked along the ditch. It did not look deep from the car but Toliver, leaning against an open window frame, shook his head.
"Wash. Can't drive over that!"
"Why not?" Neal wanted to know.
"Sand's too soft. The wheels would just sink in."
The two men returned to the car. "You think we'd better turn back to the hills again?" Father was saying.
"I'd try that first." Lucas was facing the way they had come. "If we are to stay out tonight the hills are better than right here."
"Okay."
Again Father backed and turned cautiously. They crawled along a path that paralleled the wash for a while. Then the hills began to rise and the car stopped.
"This doesn't seem to be getting us anywhere."
"I agree. And it will be dark in another hour. We're boxed in. I can get overland to the Trading Post by morning, if I start soon. Then I can bring back help to bridge the wash. We'll have supper and I'll take off—"
"You're sure you can find your way in the dark?"
Lucas laughed at Father's question. "Harvey, I've ridden this country and walked it, too, since I was younger than Parky. You can't lose me in it. You may have to spend the night in the car—unless you want to go back to Darrin-ger. But by morning I'll be back with help."
"Better stay here than go back to town," Father decided.
Again Christie sigh
ed with relief. She did not want to return to the ghost town. They had camped in the car before—it was far better than those falling-to-pieces houses back there.
"Good thing we brought plenty of supplies. Let's see what we have left in the baskets," Father suggested.
Toliver, Neal, and Parky had already spilled out of the car, Baron right at their heels. Libby and Christie passed the baskets over to Father, and then got out. Christie put Shan down on the ground and he walked stiff-legged, sniffing about.
"Get some wood, Toliver," his father said. "Neal can help you. Bring a lot. You should keep the fire going," he explained to Father. "Sometimes herders move in this direction and you might be able to get some help even before I get back. They'd come if they sighted a fire."
Toliver and Neal, Baron bounding ahead, scrambled toward the rising ground where there was a growth of trees and brush. Lucas took out a pair of field glasses. With these slung around his neck he climbed to the roof luggage carrier and used them to look westward.
Father was examining the contents of the baskets, dividing the food left into two lots. "Supper"—he pointed out to one—"and this we'll put back for breakfast."
He had just begun to do that when Neal came running down the slips. He was not carrying any wood—instead he waved his arms excitedly over his head. Father dropped a packet of sandwiches and took a quick step in his direction.
"What is the—"
"Come and see! Come and see!" Neal's last bound brought him close enough to be able to pull at Father's arm. He was gasping, so he had little breath left with which to explain.
Lucas jumped from the top of the car and hurried along behind Father and Neal. Christie saw Libby was also following. She stopped only long enough to fasten Shan's leash to the door handle (which made him yowl loudly) and went after the rest, catching Perks's hand as she steadied the younger girl.
They all had to slow down when they came around the side of the hill, for there was a tumble of stones and earth. It looked rather like the stopper that had been used to close the treasure cave. Father caught at Neal with one hand and Parky with the other.