"Those holes in your thick head make your voice sound funnier than usual."
Tuck reached up and withdrew a heavy volume. He hefted it. "Seems lighter than it should be," he said. He lifted the front cover and looked down at the book. For a moment his face was set and frozen. "Gary," he said in a hoarse voice.
"Don't tell me you've found it?" cracked Gary. He started to reach for another book.
"Gary!"
Gary turned quickly. Tuck handed him the thick volume. The inside had been neatly cut out and the edges of the pages glued together. Within the cavity was a folded square of heavy paper. Gary slowly placed the book on the table and just as slowly removed the paper. He carefully opened it.
"Gary?" said Tuck.
Gary swallowed and then nodded. "Yeh," he said. "May I never speak again if I call you loco, no matter how much I believe it!"
"You're sure that is it?"
Gary spread the chart flat on the table beneath the lamp light. He had seen enough samples of his great-grandfather's handwriting to recognize it instantly on the derrotero. In the lower right-hand corner was his great-grandfather's signature. "Yes," he said quietly. "This is it all right, Tuck."
"Let's get out of this creepy place then."
Gary nodded. He folded the derrotero and replaced it inside the book, then thrust the book under his arm. He doused the light. Tuck walked past the table, glancing out a window as he did so "Gary!" he said.
"What is it?"
Tuck stepped back from the window. "I'm almost sure I saw someone walking toward the porch."
Gary eased open the library door and moved to the head of the stairs. Tuck came up behind him. It was very quiet — almost too quiet. The faint light of the nearest street lamp came through the painted glass at the top of the front door. The doorknob turned slowly with a little grating noise. The door swung open and the shadowy outline of a man could be seen standing there. He looked toward the stairwell, his face shaded beneath his hat brim. He seemed to be listening. He moved a little and something shone dully in the darkness. A gun or a knife, Gary was sure. The man took a step forward; his hand reached for the stair rail.
Gary took a long chance. "Who is it?" he called out sharply. "Speak up or I start shooting!"
The man spun on a heel and darted awkwardly toward the door. His boots thudded on the porch and then on the stairs. Gary foolishly plunged down the stairs, three at a time. He burst through the doorway and saw a shadowy figure disappear into thick shrubbery at the corner. Gary dashed across the lawn and slipped on slick grass. He came down hard and the book flew from his grasp. Tuck grabbed the book. He looked at the place where the stranger had vanished. "No use chasing him," he said.
Gary disgustedly wiped his muddy hands on the grass. A leaky faucet had allowed a pool to form and the water had soaked into the ground. Gary stood up. The street lamp shone on the wet spot. Boot prints showed clearly, and they were not Gary's prints. Gary bent to look at the strange prints; the left boot print had a clearly marked double crescent of nails and the heel had been nailed crookedly in place. Cold sweat broke out on Gary's face.
"What's wrong?" asked Tuck.
"Let's get out of here!" said Gary. He walked to the house and locked the front door. He ran to the jeep and started the motor. He put the jeep into gear and flicked on the headlights. Something moved quickly in the thick shrubbery at the corner. Gary swung the jeep in as short a turning arc as he could and shifted to second. He was at the corner before he ventured a look back down the shadowy street. There was nothing to be seen. But whoever was hiding in the shrubbery had quite likely seen the book Tuck had picked up.
"Who do you think it was?" asked Tuck.
"It wasn't the Fuller Brush man, amigo."
"No." Tuck peered down the street as Gary turned a corner. "What scared you back there?"
Gary stopped at a stop sign, then drove on again toward the highway. "You remember the boot prints I saw up near that cave?"
"Yes?" Tuck started. He whistled softly. "The same?"
"The same," said Gary.
"Can't this bucket go any faster?"
Gary immediately demonstrated that it could. He wanted to get home and get his hand on his rifle now that they had the derrotero. "If you ever find it, keep it to yourself," Jerry Black had advised Gary. "There are men around these mountains who'd do anything to get their hands on it. Kill even. …"
9
Shadows in the Moonlight
Lobo greeted the boys at the gate. Gary and Tuck knew then that no one had been prowling about the place. They went into the dark house and pulled the shades in the living room before they put on the lamp. Gary got his Winchester and leaned it against the table. Lobo would warn them if anyone came near the house, giving them time to put out the light.
"This thing gives me the jitters," said Tuck. "Maybe we ought to take someone into our confidence."
"Like who?" snapped Gary. "Jim Kermit? Jerry Black? Lije Purtis? You loco? We found it and we keep our mouths shut about it."
"All right! All right! It was just a thought," Tuck shrugged. "Still, maybe we ought to hide it for a while before we try to use it. Until things quiet down a little anyways."
"You can't mean that!" said Gary fiercely. "We've been running up blind alleys too long to not use this derrotero now that we have it! If you don't come with me tomorrow I'm going it alone!"
"O.K! O.K.! I'm not one to let a buddy go in there alone! Maybe we can be buried together so's our families will only have to put up one tombstone 'stead of two."
"You're a real comedian. Too bad Jerry Lewis isn't looking for a new partner."
"I've got a partner," said Tuck seriously. "Gary, what do you really think about us going into the Espectros?"
Gary sat down and leaned toward his partner. "It isn't as though we were just going in there to take out a couple of burroloads of gold or silver, Tuck. Even with this derrotero it isn't going to be easy. Don't forget that the Lost Espectro has been lost for about a hundred years. All my great-grandfather's chart can do for us is to show us what he found, and he didn't find the lost mine. Sure, we can follow the clues he has on the derrotero, but when we reach the end of them we'll be right where he was when he stopped looking. It's quite possible, too, that someone might have found the Lost Espectro and never opened his mouth."
"Don't say such a thing," said Tuck in horror.
"My thought is to leave here before dawn and hike into Cholla Canyon before anyone can see us from higher up, if we're being watched. We can take light camping gear along in case we have to stay there overnight."
"Goody, goody," said Tuck. "I can hardly wait."
"Meanwhile let's try to learn this chart by heart. I don't want to take it in there with us."
The two of them sat at the table and studied the derrotero with a great deal more interest than they had ever shown in a textbook on algebra or physics. After half an hour Tuck looked up at Gary. "I can compare everything I've seen around the Espectros against this derrotero except for one thing, Gary." He placed a finger on a stylized sunburst drawn in a narrow canyon.
"A sunburst like that indicates a mine or mines close by, Tuck. Any symbol of the sun indicates great mineral wealth nearby. The question mark in the center of it was probably my great-grandfather's own idea. Quite likely that sunburst is where he thought the mine was."
"That isn't what's bothering me," said Tuck. "Have you ever seen a canyon in those mountains that corresponds to the one he drew and marked with that sunburst?"