CHAPTER TWELVE
YELLOW MOCASSINS
The next week was rather quiet compared to the excitement of the first few days. Katie and I cleaned horse stalls, stacked hay, groomed horses and spent a couple of days putting a fresh coat of linseed oil on the bunkhouse. This was certainly no dude ranch. I found out just how hard you had to work on a ranch this size. But, it was also fun.
Charles and I didn’t spend much time with each other during the week, but I always knew he was close if I needed him. Just a wave or a smile from him brought me great comfort. Mr. and Mrs. MacVicar just carried on with business as usual and made me feel like one of the family. They were like the parents I never had but always wanted. Then, there was Slim. We kept an eye on Slim as we moved around the ranch. We watched him ride off toward the mountains behind the house many times and wondered what he was up to. And as far as our experience at the old cabin?…Well, we hadn’t forgotten about it at all. Today was Friday, and the weekend was ahead. Katie and I had already discussed following Slim to see what he might be mixed up in. Tonight was going to be a quiet one. Katie and I were going to play a game or two of cards and then go to bed early. The weekends were ours to do as we pleased, and we had planned on getting up early and following Slim. We both knew there were some strange things happening, and Slim appeared to be deeply involved.
I opened my eyes, squinting as I did, as the sun’s bright, early morning rays pierced the curtains in my room. Rolling over and covering my head with a pillow, I pulled my arm up and looked at my watch. Six forty…time to get up and get moving. After a quick shower I dressed and headed to the kitchen. There wasn’t a sound to be heard, which was very strange.
“Good morning.” I turned to enter the kitchen and saw Katie cooking eggs and bacon. “Want some breakfast?” Katie asked.
“You bet!” I answered, pulling up a chair. “Where’s your mom and dad this morning?”
“They went into Salida to do some shopping and to show Charles the area,” she said as she brought eggs to the table.
“Are you ready to get some answers to some questions today?” I asked. I was starving and loved a big breakfast. We usually didn’t get much but cereal or oatmeal at the orphanage, so this was a real treat. Katie barely gave me a chance to take a few bites of the food she had prepared.
“Come here, Ian,” Katie said excitedly grabbing me by my arm. “I can’t wait any longer.” She pulled me sharply after her as she opened up a heavy wooden door. She shut the door behind us and turned on the lights. My eyes lit up. The walls were covered with guns of all kinds, knives, beautiful rugs and a small cannon sat in the corner.
“Wow! Look at all these arrowheads.” I placed my hands on the glass top of a large case holding hundreds of Indian artifacts. There were peace pipes, pieces of pottery, large spearheads, beaded belts and a long colorful Indian headdress. Directly behind the heavy wooden case, there were five sand paintings of varying sizes. I felt Katie’s hand patting me on the shoulder.
“Come here,” she urged as she pulled at my arm. “Close your eyes until I tell you to open them,” she ordered. I closed my eyes as she slowly and carefully led me to her secret destination. “O.K.,” she said as we suddenly stopped. “Open your eyes.” I opened my eyes wide and stared straight ahead. My mouth dropped open, and I gasped.
“Oh, my gosh!” I stood frozen as chills raced up and down my spine. I couldn’t speak, and the shock of seeing what I was looking at paralyzed me with fear.
“Ian, are you alright?” I was brought back to reality by Katie shaking my arm. “Do you see why my mom, dad and I had the strange look on our faces when you described the Indian you said you saw?” Katie asked. I still couldn’t speak. “Ian? Do you hear me?”
“Tha…Tha…That’s the Indian I saw!” I blurted out. “His yellow moccasins, the bow and arrows on his back…that’s him!”
“I know,” Katie shot back. “I always have believed you.”
“Who is he, Katie?”
“His name is French Pete,” she answered. “Daddy said he was a miner who came to Colorado in the 1870’s to make his fortune in the gold and silver boom. He and some buddies worked at the old Mary Murphy mine, and one day the mine collapsed. French was hit on the head by a large beam and then buried alive in the collapsed mine. The story goes when they dug him out he was still alive, but he had lost his mind from the fear and being hit in the head. After that he was never the same. He began dressing as an Indian, built his house in an old deserted mine tunnel and led a very strange life.”
“Then, what’s his fame?” I asked interrupting Katie.
“Well,” Katie went on, “as crazy as he was, he became one of the wealthiest men in the state after he hit a huge gold vein up in St. Elmo. When Mom and Dad took me to the Denver Museum, I saw where they had the largest gold nugget ever found in Colorado on display. It belonged to French Pete. That’s who he was,” Katie ended.
I stepped back and looked back up at the picture on the wall. “That’s a great story, Katie,” I said rather incredulously. “But we both saw him a few days ago. Explain that.”
“Maybe he’s one of the famous Ghosts of St. Elmo,” Katie said laughingly.
“Laugh if you want, Katie, but remember; he saved our lives twice,” I reminded her. With that remark, Katie quit laughing.
“Come on,” Katie said. “Let’s go finish breakfast.”
We closed the big door behind us and quietly walked back to the kitchen. We finished eating breakfast without uttering a word to each other. It was obvious we were both deep in thought, thinking about French Pete and all the mysterious things that had been occurring lately. Katie broke the silence. “Well, Ian, where do we go today?”
“St. Elmo,” I shot back without even thinking. “I have a feeling that’s where we should start. We can’t go back to the old cabin until it’s dark, that’s for sure. We’ve got to find out who Red and Hank are and Slim’s relationship to them, if any.”
“I agree,” Katie uttered as she washed the morning’s dishes. “But first get over here and help me dry and put these away.” I looked at her and smiled.
“You’re getting kind of bossy,” I said, as I threw some soapsuds in her hair. She turned around, giggled and threw some right back at me. I think we both realized at that moment what good friends we were becoming.
We finished cleaning the house and headed toward the barn. “Beep! Beep!…Beep! Beep!” I turned and looked over my shoulder to see Mr. Mac and everyone else returning. The Jeep came to a stop in front of the house, and Charles’ huge body appeared from inside. “Come here, Ian,” Charles motioned to me, “I need some help.” I walked in his direction wondering what was up.
“Boo!” I jumped backward as a figure from inside lurched at me.
“Zack!” I yelled out. “Zack!” We both ran toward each other giving high fives, jumping up and down, laughing, hooting and hollering. Here was my best buddy. I couldn’t believe it! But, how? Everyone was standing around with big smiles on their faces…even Katie. There we stood with arms around each other’s shoulders as I stared in disbelief. I looked toward Charles, waiting for an explanation. He didn’t fail me. With that twinkle in his eyes and smile on his face, Charles came forward with his explanation.
“You can thank Mr. Bryant, Ian. This is part of the reward he’s giving you two for solving the ‘Mystery of Falcon Falls Lake.’ That was quite a feat, and he truly appreciated it.” My mind shot back to the previous year. Falcon Falls was where Zack and I had helped solve a twenty-year-old bank robbery and murder. Mr. Bryant owned the bank that was robbed and was a very close friend to the Police Chief who was murdered. He was also on the Board of Directors of the orphanage, a deacon in our church and, not to mention, the richest man in town. “You can thank him when you two guys return home, but for now just have fun,” Charles ended.
“Don’t worry, we will,” I guaranteed Charles. “This is a great surprise!” Mr. Mac soon interrupted the festivities.
“Ian, take Zack up to your room and show him his bed.”
“I sure will,” I said. “It’ll be my pleasure.” Zack and I grabbed his bags and headed toward the house. What a vacation this would be. I couldn’t wait to fill him in on Katie’s and my adventures.
The Ghost of St. Elmo Page 12