"But he had time to cut that inscription into the rock," said Gary quietly. He looked down at the skeleton. "He didn't even take the time to lay out his brother properly. Just let him drop there in death right across the drift entrance."
There was a puzzled look on Sue's face. "So?"
"Maybe Marcos left Leandro as the patrón."
"So what? A patrón is an owner, an employer, Gary. Maybe Marcos…" Her voice trailed off. "How could a dead man be an owner or an employer?"
Gary felt a creeping horror within him. "There is another meaning to the word patrón, Sue. The old Spanish miners would sometimes take as much gold or silver from a mine as they needed, or could carry at the time, then to guard the mine they would kill one of the peons or Indian slaves so that he would be a patrón—a ghostly warden or guard of the mine to keep out intruders."
"But Leandro was his brother!"
"Yes. But Marcos had gold fever. He knew he had to leave the mine, and there was no patrón to place on guard. No one but his own brother."
Sue shuddered. "Now we know why he never came back here again. Imagine coming down here to see Leandro still on guard!"
"I saw him," said Gary dryly. "So did Tuck. I don't think we'll be bothered by the ghost of Leandro Melgosa. I have a feeling his ghost was waiting for one man alone. Maybe the ghost, if there is such a thing as a ghost, left here and went to look for Brother Marcos. That would have been a meeting!"
Now that Sue was with him, Gary felt his courage return. If a girl had the nerve to come down into that dark mine he could hardly back out now from further exploration.
"Maybe there is nothing in the mine," said Sue.
"Then why would Leandro have been left behind as patrón?"
"That's true," she said. "Won't hurt to look. It doesn't seem to be much darker or any more dangerous down here than it is up there."
Gary smiled at her, then turned to lead the way back along the dark and echoing drift. A stone struck the bottom of the shaft. A moment later Tuck whistled softly, "Gary," he croaked in a low voice. "There's someone coming up here!"
Gary shook his head at Sue, then swiftly ascended the ladder, crawling on his belly through the brush to lie beside his partner. He raised his head and caught a swift and furtive movement amidst the tangle of rocks and brush. The canyon was very dark now and the wind was getting colder. Gary flipped off the safety on the shotgun. Tuck raised the Winchester and full-cocked it.
Minutes ticked past. There was no further sign of life. Gary's eyes ached from peering into the gloom. He raised his head a little higher, then some strange intuition made him quickly turn his head to the left. A man was standing behind a shattered boulder with only his head and shoulders showing; his thick hair was bound with a cloth, exactly as Sue had described the stranger.
Gary threw up his shotgun and Tuck turned, raising the rifle. Gary sighted and then his breath caught in his throat. The man stood up in plain view and smiled widely. He waved a hand. "It's Lije Purtis, fellas," he said. There was no sign of a weapon on him.
"Come out in the open," said Gary coldly. "What do you want?"
Lije shambled out into the open and smiled again. "I wanted to tell you someone has been following you. You got anything to eat?"
"Yes," said Tuck. "Who is following us, Lije?"
Lije shook his head as though to clear it. "I followed him through that cave way back there, at the water hole. I was goin' to ask him for some…" The rifle cracked flatly from a hundred yards down the slope. Lije fell heavily. The echo of the shot slammed back and forth in the canyon as the boys dropped flat. Gary crawled to the edge of the rocks in front of him, and just as he did so lightning flashed high in the heavens. The eerie light played full on the gaunt face of Lije Purtis. His mouth gaped open, revealing his yellow teeth. His eyes stared at the dark sky, but they did not see. They would never see anything on earth again.
13
Trapped
The canyon was quiet again except for the moaning of the wind. The acrid odor of burnt powder drifted away. Nothing had been seen of the hidden marksman except the quick, stabbing spurt of flame from his rifle muzzle. His accuracy had been remarkable at that distance, firing uphill and in the uncertain light. If he had done nothing else, he had at least cleared poor Lije Purtis of any suspicion — not that it would help Lije now.
Gary passed the shotgun to Tuck and took the rifle. Tuck was a good shot but not in a class with Gary. There was no use in fooling themselves. The chips were down and it might soon be a question of kill or be killed. Strangely enough to Gary, there was almost a feeling of relief within him as he peered through the shifting light. He had become tired of the unknown and the unseen. He knew now it was no ghost that haunted the Espectros. It was a man of flesh and blood, armed with a heavy-caliber rifle, who thought nothing of killing. Lije Purtis had known who he was; therefore Lije had died. It was as simple as that.
This time Gary would shoot to kill rather than fire warning shots as he had done at the shadowy figure who had been watching for them that moonlit night in the canyon of the water hole.
Lobo rounded a huge slab of rock and dropped to the ground beside Gary. Gary looked curiously at the dog. If it had been Lije Purtis whom Sue had seen, it was logical enough that Lobo wouldn't have barked at him. Lobo knew Lije and knew he was harmless. What puzzled Gary was the fact that Lobo was so calm now. Had he seen the man who had killed Lije? Did he know that man as well as he had known Lije? Was that why he was so unconcerned?
Tuck was evidently puzzled as well. He looked down at Lobo and then up at Gary, shrugging his shoulders. Gary worked his way over to Tuck. "What do you think?" he asked.
"Quien sabe? Lobo must know who it is. Someone he thinks is all right."
"That's what I'm thinking. On the other hand, if it was Asesino, he wouldn't stay any longer in one spot than it takes to fire a shot. He's too slick for that, Tuck."
Thunder rumbled in the sky. A few cold drops of rain pattered quickly on the rocks. Gary eyed the position they were in. The mine was just below them, probing beneath the sheer cliff behind them. To the right and the left the cliff walls curved down toward the floor of the canyon. Before them was the tangled slope covered with shattered rock from which the killer had fired. If he were still on that slope he could easily see anyone trying to make the floor of the canyon. When full darkness came he could move in, taking his chances on the fact that Lobo knew him. He could wait through the darkness of the night, watching and listening for any movement, and when the light of dawn flooded the canyon, he could pick his position so that he could see a fly crawling across those rocks near the mine.
Gary took stock. They had enough water for another day or so and enough food for about the same amount of time — with short rations, of course. Gary had a full magazine in his rifle and about a dozen extra cartridges, totaling twenty rounds; Tuck, with the short-range shotgun, had only half a dozen cartridges. At close range the shotgun was a deadly weapon, but if the unseen marksman stayed away from it he would be safe enough.
The wind shifted and carried another sound with it — a thin, mocking laugh that came from up high. Gary raised his rifle, but he decided there would be no sense in shooting at the elusive voice. Maybe that was what the killer wanted; the quick, spurting of fire from the Winchester would enable him to pinpoint Gary. The way he could shoot, he'd hardly need more than that.