to follow her lead. Naturally hidden by the forest, they
crouched and waited.
Watching and listening for several minutes, they
heard nothing. Her skin tingling from her head to her
feet, Nancy finally stepped out onto the path. It curved
to the right, so she could see only about three yards
ahead.
She made her way to the bend in the path, then held
her breath. Against the dark of the dense trees, she
could just make out an even darker silhouette.
Someone was waiting for them around the curve.
8. Bess Tumbles for Lincoln
Nancy's thoughts raced. If I heard him coming, he—or
she—probably heard us too, Nancy thought. So it's too
late to duck back into the forest. She motioned for
Bess, George, and Kincaid to stay back. Whoever it is
probably doesn't know how many of us there are,
Nancy reasoned. She knew if she needed help, surprise
would be a big advantage for her.
Nancy took a deep breath, then asked firmly, “Who's
there?”
There was no answer, but the person took a step
closer. Nancy was pretty sure it was a man. He was
very tall and slim and dressed in a Mount Rushmore
uniform. His face was almost completely concealed by
the wide bill of a baseball cap. It looked as if tufts of
light hair bristled around the ears.
“Who is it?” Nancy asked, firmly holding her
ground. “Who's there?”
The person took another couple of steps closer.
He—or she—seemed to favor the right leg and limped
slightly.
“Nancy, be careful,” Kincaid said, popping out from
behind a tree.
The stranger jumped with surprise, then stepped
back when he saw Kincaid.
“Outta my way,” he grumbled through clenched
teeth, glaring at Nancy and the others. Then he shoved
roughly past them, knocking Kincaid to the ground.
George and Bess rushed out to help Nancy pull
Kincaid to her feet. They looked down the path back
toward the visitor center, but the stranger was out of
sight.
“Are you all right?” Bess asked Kincaid.
“Yeah, I guess so,” she answered, and stood,
brushing pine needles from her jeans.
“I wonder who that was,” George said, looking down
the path.
“Kincaid, did you get a look at him?” Nancy asked.
“No,” Kincaid answered. “It all happened so fast, I
didn't get a good look. I think it was a man, though.”
“But you didn't recognize him?” Nancy asked.
“Not really,” Kincaid said, adjusting her backpack.
“What is it, Nancy?” Bess asked. “There's something
you're after, isn't there?”
“I don't know,” Nancy said, her eyes narrowing as
she remembered the encounter. “It almost looked as if
he recognized Kincaid when she jumped out. When
you popped up, he looked right at you, then rushed
away. I know you startled him, but there was
something more in his expression.”
“I wish I'd gotten a better look at him,” Kincaid said.
“I wonder if it was someone I know—that's really
scary.”
“Well, he seems to be gone now, so let's get back on
the trail to Beauforêt,” Nancy said, heading out. Soon
they reached the back of Antoinette Francoeur's
property.
“There,” Kincaid said triumphantly. “I knew it.
Look. There's the car barn, the parking lot. The house
is up ahead.”
Even though the estate was more open than the
forest, there was little moonlight. So it was dark. It was
also very quiet. There was no sign of anyone around
the grounds.
“I want to check something in the antique car barn
first,” Nancy whispered.
“We've already been there,” Kincaid said, obviously
disappointed. “I want to look in the other barns and
outbuildings. If Lulu and Justice are up here, I want to
find them.”
Nancy could see that Kincaid was determined and
she wasn't going to change her mind. “Okay,” Nancy
said. “Bess, you and Kincaid go to the other barn. Wait
there for George and me. Now listen, everybody. We
may not see anyone right now, but we know she has
guards. Keep out of sight and be quiet.”
Nancy watched as Bess and Kincaid darted toward
the other large building. Then she and George moved
quickly to the rear door of the car barn. Nancy used
her lock pick to open it.
She waited for a minute to see if she had roused the
attention of any guard, but all remained quiet.
Cautiously, she and George stepped inside. One faint
ray of moonlight shone through a window at the front
of the building. They followed it to the unrestored
automobiles in the corner.
These cars were in various stages of restoration.
Some needed just a paint job, some needed tires or
windows. Nancy pulled out her flashlight.
“What are we looking for?” George asked.
“Hubcaps,” Nancy said. “The one we found at Lulu
and Justice's shelter was unusual, remember?”
“Mm-hmm,” George said with a nod. “It looked as if
it had a design in the center, but I couldn't tell what it
was.”
Nancy laid her flashlight on the hood of a car. Then
she reached in her backpack and took out a piece of
paper. It was the pencil rubbing she had made of the
hubcap.
“It was an unusual hubcap,” Nancy said. “And
Antoinette Francoeur collects unusual cars. That
hubcap was rusty and dented, and some of these cars
are in similar shape.”
The two checked all the wheels of the cars waiting to
be restored.
“Nothing,” George said flatly. “Well, I guess we'd
better go. Bess and Kincaid will think we've been
caught—or something worse.”
Disappointed, Nancy flashed the light beam around
the large room. “Wait a minute,” she said. “What's
that?”
An old truck sat in the corner by the large garage
door. Nancy and George hurried across the room. The
truck wasn't an antique, but it was old—and it was very
well used.
Nancy stooped down to check the wheels. Three had
hubcaps that were dented and rusty like the one they
had found. In the center of each was an
indistinguishable design. The fourth tire boasted a
brand-new hubcap. Shiny and silver in the flashlight
beam, the center of the hubcap was etched with a
fleur-de-lis pattern.
“Of course,” Nancy said. “The fleur-de-lis. It's an iris
design and was used a lot on armor and in banners in
France. It was a symbol of the monarchy.” She felt the
tire treads. “Mmm,” she added. “This truck has been
used recently. And look at the dirt caked in the treads.
It looks like the clay soil on the Turners' ranch out by
Lulu and Justice's shelter.”
“Maybe Ki
ncaid was right all along,” George said.
“Ms. Francoeur did take her bison.”
“Let's get to the other barn,” Nancy said. “Maybe
they found something.” She stuffed the flashlight and
pencil rubbing into her backpack. Quickly they left the
car barn and headed across the drive to the other large
building.
The door was unlocked. Inside, the sweetish odor of
goats and dairy cows mixed with the fresh scent of hay
and alfalfa. Bess and Kincaid were just inside the door,
waiting. In the faint moonlight, Nancy could see the
disappointment on their faces. “Nothing,” Bess said.
“We had a little more luck,” George said. “Tell
them, Nancy.”
Nancy told them about the truck, the hubcap, and
the fresh dirt. “It sure looks as though someone drove
that truck out to Lulu and Justice's shelter,” Nancy
concluded.
“Then where are they?” Kincaid said. “There aren't
any other buildings on the estate that could hold them.
There's no pasture. Where could they be?” She sighed.
“I say we go confront the woman. Tell her what we
found and ask her where my bison are.”
“Not a good idea,” Nancy said. “Let's have Sheriff
Switzer take care of it. We can tell him about the
hubcaps on that truck. Having the sheriff ask her why
she was trespassing on your ranch will get better results
than we will—especially since we've been caught
trespassing on her property.”
“Good point, Nancy,” Bess said. She put an arm
around Kincaid's shoulders. “Come on,” she said.
“Nancy's right. Let's get back to the car.”
They retraced their steps along the nature trail back
to the Mount Rushmore Visitor Center. “Nancy, how
can we tell the sheriff that we saw those hubcaps at
Beauforêt without telling him we were there?” Kincaid
asked.
“You call him tomorrow morning. Tell him we were
there for the press conference and we saw the
hubcaps,” Nancy said. “He'll assume the two things
happened at the same time.”
“Good plan,” Kincaid murmured, nodding. By the
time they reached the visitor center, it was nearly
midnight and everything was closed. From the shelter
of the trees, they could see two rangers drinking coffee
and talking on one of the viewing terraces. There was
no one else visible. There were no clouds now and a
half-moon shone down on the massive granite heads.
Concealed by the dense forest, they hiked back up
to their all-terrain vehicle. “Well, I don't know about
you guys, but I'm glad to be heading back,” Bess said as
Kincaid started the motor.
Kincaid had begun to maneuver the vehicle onto the
ranger road when suddenly she stopped and turned to
the others. “There's one more thing we have to do
while we're here,” she said, opening her door.
“Something that will help us remember this night
forever.”
“What's that?” George asked with a yawn.
“Where are we going?” Bess asked warily. “I have a
funny feeling about this.” They stood in the clearing
near the maintenance shed.
“We're going to stand on the heads,” Kincaid said,
her voice brimming with excitement. “Clayton and I
did it once. It's such a thrill. You really feel like you're
on top of the world. It's just a short walk. We won't
actually go onto the heads. I'm afraid the rangers
would see us, but we'll get close to it. Come on.”
Without waiting for the others, she headed off into
the trees. Nancy, George, and Bess followed. Abruptly
they left the shelter of the trees and were in the open.
Nancy's heart did a somersault as she took in the
breathtaking view. Even in the dark, she could see the
outlines of mountains for miles in all directions. She
had a spooky feeling knowing that they were actually
above the presidents' heads.
“I thought you said it was just a short walk,” George
grumbled as they made their way down the steep rocky
path.
Nancy and Bess were walking side by side. Suddenly
Bess's ankle twisted, and she fell heavily into Nancy.
Nancy grabbed for her friend, but Bess slipped away.
“Oh no,” Bess cried as she tumbled. “I can't . . .
catch myself . . . somebody . . . grab me.”
“Hang on, Bess,” Nancy yelled as she and George
half ran and half slid down to their friend
Nancy felt a cold clammy sweat spread over her as
she watched in terror as her friend slid onto the cliff
above Lincoln's head.
9. A Few Pieces Fit
Nancy, George, and Kincaid raced forward to see Bess
tumble onto the cliff above Lincoln's head. Finally she
came to a stop in a jumbled heap.
“Hold on, Bess,” Nancy called in a loud whisper.
Her voice seemed to disappear in the vast open air at
the top of the mountain. “It's okay, we're here.”
“We're here, Bess,” George echoed as she and
Kincaid moved up beside Nancy.
“Owwww,” Bess moaned. “My shoulder. I think I
hurt my shoulder when I landed.”
“Don't move,” Nancy said. “I'm coming to get you.
Try to stay still and keep your voice down. We'll be in
even more trouble if the rangers down at the visitor
center hear us.” Nancy sat down on the rocky ground
and scooted down to where Bess lay and helped her
friend to sit up.
As she looked around, Nancy felt a sudden moment
of weightlessness. Sitting on top of Lincoln's head
made her feel a little off balance.
“Do you want us to come down there?” George
called.
“No, stay where you are,” Nancy said. “We can make
it.” Their arms looped together, the two crawled back
up the rocky incline to where George and Kincaid
waited.
Bess stood up and moved her arm around several
times. “Ummph,” she muttered. “It hurts.”
“We'd better get you to a doctor,” Nancy said. “You
probably should have your arm x-rayed.”
“Can you move it?” George asked.
Bess gingerly shrugged her shoulder. “It's okay, I
guess,” she said. “It just hurts.”
Gently prodding Bess's arm, Kincaid said, “I'll bet
it's only bruised.”
“Just get me home,” Bess said. “I'll be okay. I feel
better just thinking about that cabin bathtub and bed.”
“Well, be sure to let us know if you think you need
to see a doctor tomorrow,” Kincaid said.
“I will, I will,” Bess said, walking slowly to the car.
“Well, you were right, Kincaid,” Bess concluded, as
they drove down the winding ranger road. “That was a
thrill.”
Wednesday morning Bess was sore and a little
bruised, but she felt pretty good, considering the
tumble she had taken. She insisted she didn't need to
see a doctor.
“Oka
y, then, we're still on to go out to Badger
Brady's today,” Nancy said, checking her watch.
“Clayton won't be here until noon. That's about an
hour and a half from now. I'm going to talk to Kincaid's
mom about the artist for Antoinette Francoeur's
brochure.” She grabbed the press kit they had gotten at
Beauforêt and headed across the path toward the
Turner house.
Melissa Turner was working at her desk when Nancy
entered the house. Mrs. Turner was dressed in leather
jeans and boots and a red shirt that set off her pale skin
and dark hair.
“Nancy,” Mrs. Turner said. “I was just thinking
about the case. Matt says Badger is still insisting he's
not the rustler.” Mrs. Turner leaned forward, worry
creasing her forehead. “We've got to figure out who the
rustler is—and soon, or we may lose our ranch. Do you
have any ideas?”
“Actually, I was hoping you could help me out,”
Nancy said.
“Sure,” Mrs. Turner answered. She leaned back in
her chair and urged Nancy to sit in the soft plush love
seat next to her desk.
Nancy opened the press kit and took out the Justice
for Animals brochure and other materials. “Take a look
at this illustration,” she said, offering the brochure to
Mrs. Turner.
Mrs. Turner studied the picture of the two bison.
“This looks like the work of one of our Art Guild
members, a local artist. He's a Native American whose
tribal name means All Bright Winter Moon, but he
goes by Jack Allbright.”
“And you think he might have done this illustra-
tion?” Nancy asked.
“I'd bet on it,” Melissa Turner said. “He does
watercolors and has a really distinctive brushstroke.
Wow! These look like Lulu and Justice.”
“Kincaid thought so, too,” Nancy said. “How can I
get hold of Jack Allbright?” Nancy said. “I want to ask
him about this illustration.”
“Well, let me see,” Mrs. Turner said. “I should have
his number right here. Yes, here it is. You want me to
call and introduce you?”
“That would be wonderful,” Nancy said.
Mrs. Turner dialed the number and waited. Then
she crinkled her nose up at Nancy, saying “Answering
machine.” She waited a few more moments, then said,
“Jack? Hi, this is Melissa Turner. I just saw the
brochure for Justice for Animals. Congratulations on
148 On The Trail Of Trouble Page 7