CHAPTER TEN
PHANTOM RIDERS IN THE NIGHT
Arriving at the ranch about two hours later, we headed for the barn. Jeb was mucking out stalls, and Brad was working on the horses’ feet. “Well, hello there, strangers,” Jeb looked up and exclaimed. “You two look like a couple of drowned rats. You’re back a little early, aren’t you?” he asked surprised.
“We ran into a little trouble up around Chalk Cliff,” Katie explained. “A rock slide almost buried us both.”
“What?” Jeb exclaimed, acting somewhat panicky. Jeb wanted to know every little detail. The wind began whipping through the barn so Jeb took us into the warm tack room and sat us down. We willingly drank hot coffee and relayed our day’s adventures, but purposefully left out our suspicions of Slim. For now, that would remain our secret. After we warmed ourselves and finished telling our story to Jeb, he told us to head for the house.
“What about our horses?” Katie asked.
“Don’t worry,” Jeb replied. “Brad and I’ll cool ‘em down and brush ‘em. Take off.”
“Thanks,” Katie responded somewhat relieved. We turned and headed off at a quick pace with our heads bent forward, trying to evade the blustery weather.
“Beep…Beep” We turned to see Mr. Mac and Charles returning in the Jeep loaded with supplies. “Hey, kids!” Mr. Mac shouted. “How about a hand?” We walked slowly in their direction, not showing much enthusiasm.
“What happened to you two?” Charles asked. Knowing we couldn’t go through another explanation, we asked if we could be excused. Our conditions must have been pretty obvious, because there weren’t any questions asked. Inside we went, I to my room and Katie to hers.
I never realized a shower could ever feel as good as it did. When I exited the shower, every window, and mirror was saturated with fog, and my room looked like a scene from a horror movie. I walked toward my bed, turned around and fell flat on my back. I looked up at the vaulted ceiling with its large wooden beams, slowly closed my eyes and drifted into a deep sleep.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!” Startled, I jumped up and ran to my window to see what was going on, and where the sound was coming from. I could see Jeb running around the corner of the barn with his rifle in his hand shouting to Brad,
“He’s coming your way!”
“Bang!” Then there was silence, except for that final shot that echoed throughout the hills above. I opened my window and stuck my head out into the cold, biting wind. Suddenly, rounding the corner of the barn, Jeb and Brad appeared pulling something behind them through the drifting snow. “Hey! Whatcha got?” I shouted. Brad looked up and smiled and then motioned to me to come on down. I quickly threw on my clothes and headed in their direction. By the time I reached the front door, I could see Mr. and Mrs. Mac and Katie all huddled together, smiling and gesturing with Jeb and Brad. I ran up to the group and asked excitedly. “What is it?”
“Holy cow!” I said, amazed at what I saw lying on the muddy ground in front of us. It was a massive, dark, brown bear. His huge paws were outstretched in front of him, eyes wide open and staring straight ahead. His powerful muscles bulged beneath his thick coat and appeared to twitch now and then. Charles walked up behind me and put that massive hand of his on my shoulder. I turned around, looked into his eyes, and we smiled at the same time.
“What do ya think?” Brad asked with a proud look on his face. “Have you ever seen anything like it? I got em right behind the ear.”
“Never have,” I responded enthusiastically. “That was a heck of a shot,” Charles interjected.
“How about some shooting lessons sometime?” he asked, smiling.
“Sure thing, Charles,” Brad answered. “Anytime.” Brad was so excited about his kill, that Charles and I didn’t have the heart to tell him of our exciting adventure in Hartsel. But, it certainly was getting more exciting by the day I thought. What would be next?
“Well, this calls for a celebration,” Mr. Mac said as he patted Brad on his back. “Jeb, you know the routine.” He continued, “Lots of wood, a big fire, fresh venison, elk and plenty of singin’. I want that bear skinned and lyin’ on my floor. I’ve been lookin’ for him for a long time, and I’m gonna love steppin’ on him everyday. Okay, everybody: snow or no snow, we’re havin’ a party. See you behind the barn in a couple of hours, and don’t forget your appetites.”
The rest of the night seemed to fly by. Good food, a hot fire, lots of singing and joke telling. Everything was perfect until out of the darkness a form appeared on horseback, silhouetted against the roaring fire. Slim?…Where had he been? He rode over to where Jeb was sitting, dismounted and whispered into his ear. Jeb nodded, his head looked into the darkness and stood up. He appeared upset with Slim, and they both turned and walked into the barn.
“I’ve seen that look before,” Katie said. “Slim’s in trouble.”
“We couldn’t be so lucky,” I answered. Everyone seemed to be scattering and heading in different directions. The ranch hands began putting out the fire, and Mr. and Mrs. Mac called to Katie and me to head back to the main house. Charles said goodnight and moved off toward the bunkhouse. It was another exciting day on what was turning out to be quite an adventure. After discussing the day, as we made our way to the house, we said goodnight and headed to our rooms. Shortly, there was nothing but silence other than an occasional mournful call of a far off coyote or the whistling of the cold, blustery wind.
After a while, sounds of hooves beating against the ground woke me out of a deep sleep. I went to my window and looked into the darkness. Three men on horseback were riding toward the hills behind the ranch. The dim glow of the barely visible moon seemed to be lighting their way as they rode hard and soon disappeared from sight. I quietly opened my door, walked down to Katie’s room and roused her from her own deep sleep. “Ian,” she whispered. “What do you want?”
“I just saw three riders heading toward the hills. I’m not sure, but it looked like one was Slim,” I answered.
“What time is it?” she asked. I looked down at my watch.
“2:15”
“Go get dressed,” she said. “Meet me in the barn.” I hurried back to my room, being as quiet as possible, dressed and headed outside. Now, the snow was piling up, and the sleet was beating off my fast freezing face. I opened the barn door and stepped into the warm interior. Everything was dark except for a dim light emanating from the tack room. Walking slowly and carefully, I heard Katie come through the door behind me. She pulled the door behind her and dropped the heavy steel latch gently as she shut it and began walking in my direction. Katie stopped short of me and opened a stall door and peered in.
“You’re right,” she softly exclaimed. “Slim’s horse is gone, and I’ll bet he is, too. Come on. We’ll find out. I know where his bunk is,” she said excitedly. We opened a small door next to the grooming room and found ourselves no more than fifty feet from the bunkhouse, but we were standing in at least six inches of new, white, fluffy snow. We quickly made our way toward the old pine-sided building, crouching as we went. I could see visions of Sherlock Holmes doing the same thing in The Hound of the Baskervilles. Now, Sherlock was my name, and mysteries were my game, I thought to myself. Katie brought me back to reality with a quick shove to my back, knocking me forward, face down, into the snow. With a slight giggle, she grabbed my hand and pulled me behind her toward the side of the building.
“Sh!” she whispered, holding her finger to her lips. We were directly below a window with our knees buried in the snow. “Slim’s bunk is in front of this window,” she whispered. “Can you see if he’s in it?” I slowly rose and peered over the top of the window sill. His bunk was empty, and everyone else was sound asleep. I knelt down and whispered my findings to Katie. “So, it was Slim,” she questioned out loud. “What’s he up to?” she asked curiously. “Get our horse saddled,” she whispered as she turned and crouched low on her way back toward the barn.
I followed, moving swiftly behind her.
Once inside, we saddled up without delay and headed out into the blowing, night snow. Katie took the lead and galloped out ahead of me. The snow was definitely piling up. I could see her horse’s hooves sink deep into the powder as she urged her on trying to catch Slim. I was right behind her wondering where we were headed, and what we would do when we got there. I was beginning to get an uncomfortable feeling about what we might be headed into. Suddenly, I saw Katie pull up ahead of me and look in my direction. As I rode up to her, she was kneeling down looking at some prints in the snow. “What do you see?” I asked.
“Three sets of hoof prints riding fast, heading toward St. Elmo,” she answered. “But why?”
“I thought St. Elmo was a ghost town,” I said, wondering the same thing.
“Come on. Let’s keep going,” she ordered. “It’s beginning to snow harder.” We mounted up and took off again. Riding hard and pushing our horses through the deepening snow, we arrived at an old dilapidated shack nestled at the base of the steep hills ahead. Once again Katie came to a halt and examined the snow. “That’s interesting,” Katie said rather mysteriously. “Now there are four sets of hoof prints. Somebody was obviously waiting here to join up with them. Come on. Let’s go inside and see what’s here.” We tied our horses to an old half-fallen tree out front and followed footprints inside. There was no door, and the wind had swept the fresh snow into the old rotting interior. “Go get my flashlight out of my saddlebag, Ian,” Katie ordered. “I can’t see a thing.” I turned and moved quickly. I tried to open the saddlebag to retrieve the flashlight, but my frozen fingers slowed my progress. “Help! Ian, help me!” came a loud scream from inside.
My head snapped in the direction of the old shack, and my eyes searched frantically for any sign of Katie. I pushed my hand hard and deep into the leather bag, pulled out the flashlight and darted back inside. “Katie! Katie! Where are you?” I frantically shined the light in every direction searching for any sign of Katie. “Katie! Katie! Come on Katie, this isn’t funny anymore.” I began to panic. There was nothing but an almost empty interior: an iron stove, a chair in pieces and a broken down old bookshelf attached to a wall.
“Help! Ian, I’m over here,” came Katie’s voice again.
“Where?” I shouted back.
“Over here at the bookcase,” she screamed. I shined the flashlight in that direction but saw no Katie.
“Keep talking,” I told her, “and I’ll try to follow your voice.”
“Here! Here! Over here,” came her muffled cries. I moved toward the old broken down bookcase and shined the light on every board I could see. Still nothing.
“Bang on the wall, Katie,” I shouted. “Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!” I moved closer as she pounded the wall. Finally, I could see dust falling from the shelf as my light reflected off the rotten wood. Startled, I jumped back. “Whoa!” My heart began racing, and blood rushed to my head. There in front of me were two eyes staring straight ahead through the old bookcase.
“It’s me, old brave one,” Katie yelled sarcastically. “Get me outta here.”
“How?” I yelled back. “How’d you get in there?”
“I don’t know. If I could remember, I’d get myself out,” she said mocking me. I began pushing and pulling every old piece of wood I could see. Nothing moved in any direction. Up, down, sideways. I tried everything. Frustrated, I kicked at the base of the shelf, and suddenly it began to move. As it did, I stood back and watched…It begin to pivot. I shined the light waiting for Katie to rush out. But, no Katie. I yelled out to her.
“Where are you?”
“Down here!” she answered. I walked forward carefully, shining the light from side to side. As I did, the bookcase closed by itself again. “Be careful, Ian. There’s a big hole ahead,” came a voice from under the floor. I stopped dead in my tracks and shined my light downward. “Whew!” That was lucky, directly in front of me was a fairly large hole with a ladder leading down underground. I leaned over and shined the flashlight toward the bottom. Katie’s blond hair and blue eyes were straining upward as she motioned to me to come down. I placed my feet precisely on each wooden step as I began my descent into the musty darkness below. When I reached the bottom, Katie grabbed firmly on to my arm.
“Shine the light around,” she whispered. I turned and slowly rotated my body 360 degrees. Neither of us was prepared for what we saw. Out of the darkness appeared four wooden walls of pine, a cast iron pot belly stove, a pile of firewood neatly stacked in the corner and a table with four chairs sitting under a hanging oil lamp. “Oh, my gosh, what is this place?” Katie asked, her voice quivering. “I’ve been in this old cabin dozens of times over the years and never suspected this, and I’ll bet Daddy doesn’t know, either.”
”Let’s light the lamp and save batteries,” I suggested. We tramped across the dirt floor toward the table. Shining the flashlight, we could see a deck of playing cards strewn across its top, cigarette butts all over, a half empty Cuttysark Whiskey bottle, broken matchsticks, probably used as money while playing cards and a book of matches. I grabbed the book of matches to light the oil lamp. “Buena Vista Tavern,” I quietly said.
“What about Buena Vista Tavern,” Katie asked inquisitively. Obviously she had heard me thinking out loud.
“These matches are from the tavern,” I answered. I lit the lamp and adjusted the wick inside. We were in awe as we looked at our surroundings. It looked exactly like a cabin underground. The pine walls all appeared fairly new, the stove was still warm and a shelf in the corner was stacked with canned goods.
“That’s strange,” Katie said as she pointed to the small wooden door in the floor under the table. “What do you think that is?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” I told her. I slid the table aside and grabbed the small rope handle on the top to pull it open. “Stand back,” I said as I gently moved her back with my arm. I gave a hard jerk upward, and the door released. As I applied a steady tug, the door opened up and into the room. I shined the light down into the pitch, black hole. “What the heck?” I asked in amazement.
“Let me see,” Katie whispered excitedly as she inched her way forward. She hung her head out over the hole and peered intently into the darkness below us. There was a fairly shallow and somewhat small hole carved out of the earth with piles of something, filling up one corner covered by sheets of white plastic. The hole was shallow enough that I lowered myself down by hanging onto the edge of the wood of the door’s frame. It was probably only five feet by five feet, but the floor and walls were made of aromatic cedar. It reminded me of my housemother’s chest at the orphanage that always rested at the end of her bed. If the door to her room was ajar, and she opened that old antique chest, the fragrance of the wood would fill the entire dorm. That was a smell I would always remember. I pulled back the plastic to expose what had been so carefully hidden.
The Ghost of St. Elmo Page 10