them into a holding area.”

  “I've got just the spot,” Kincaid said. “We'll round

  'em up like we do the bison.” She maneuvered her car

  to the left, then to the right, forcing the driver of the

  truck to swerve away.

  Nancy grabbed some binoculars off the floor of

  Kincaid's vehicle and peered at the occupants of the

  black truck. “It's them, all right,” she said. “Tell's

  driving, Stone's the passenger. No one's aiming a gun

  this way. Pull up closer.”

  With a loud “Yeeeehah,” Kincaid took out across the

  bumpy ground, her foot slamming down on the

  accelerator. She sidled her vehicle beside the truck and

  steered right, forcing Tell to make a wide curve. Then

  Kincaid moved around to the left, forcing Tell to come

  back to a straighter line.

  “Yow,” Bess said from the backseat. “This is worse

  than a roller coaster.”

  “Don't let them get away,” George yelled.

  Kincaid was right. It was like guiding an animal

  herd. She wheeled from side to side, making sure her

  quarry was headed where she wanted.

  “There they go!” she finally yelled, braking her car

  and turning it just in time.

  The truck couldn't stop. It plummeted down a hill

  and into a shallow river that flowed through a narrow

  gorge. Nancy and the others ran to the edge of the

  gorge to check on the two men. When they got there,

  both men were lying on the shore, panting. The truck

  was badly damaged and sunk to the tops of its wheels

  in gooey mud.

  “Jasper Stone, you crook,” Kincaid yelled down.

  “You'll never poach from our land again!”

  “My friend's leg,” Stone called up. “I think it's

  broken.”

  “Is he conscious?” Nancy asked. “Are either of you

  bleeding?”

  “No, but we are in pain,” Stone replied, “and in need

  of assistance to get out of here.”

  “We'll get you some help,” Kincaid said, “but first

  tell me about my bison. Have you rustled from our

  herd? Did you take my cow and her calf?”

  “Ms. Turner, we'll tell you everything,” Stone said.

  “But get us out of here.”

  “Not until you tell me where Lulu and Justice are,”

  Kincaid said, her voice wild with anger. “They had

  better be all right.”

  “They're fine, okay?” Ephraim Tell yelled. “They're

  on my ranch, about forty miles from here. Now get me

  a doctor. My leg's killing me.”

  “Please, Ms. Turner,” Stone said. “I assure you my

  friend is telling the truth. We were never interested in

  your bison, just your fossils. Your animals are fine.

  Please get us out of here.”

  Nancy recognized the voice. “You made that

  threatening call to the Turners, didn't you?” she said. “I

  answered the phone, not Kincaid. And you locked my

  friend and me in the mine cave?”

  “That's right,” Stone said, as his partner groaned.

  “You were trespassing on my property.”

  “Just lie still, Mr. Tell,” Nancy said. “Don't move

  your leg. Have you been working as a projectionist at

  Mount Rushmore?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tell answered. “Gave me a

  uniform, so I looked legit walking around the area.

  Gave me access to Stone's property and the cave

  without hauling up the logging roads.”

  “Just one more question,” Nancy said. “Did you two

  follow us to the Brady farmhouse and lock us in the

  basement?”

  Stone nodded, but didn't speak.

  “With a coyote!” Kincaid said. “Nice going, Stone.

  We'll get help, but you don't deserve it.”

  “George and I will stay here and keep an eye on

  them,” Nancy said. “They're really no threat. They

  can't climb up the cliff—they're stuck in the gorge

  until you bring some help.”

  Kincaid and Bess drove back to the ranch house to

  meet Sheriff Switzer. He and his men brought

  paramedics out to rescue the poachers and relieve

  Nancy and George of their watch.

  The next day the sheriff, the FBI, Mr. Turner, and a

  few of his ranch hands followed Ephraim Tell's

  instructions and drove several livestock trailers out to

  Tell's ranch.

  A few hours later Kincaid was pacing up and down

  the drive while Nancy, Bess, George, and Mrs. Turner

  sat on the porch and waited. “You're going to wear a

  hole in the ground,” Bess warned, smiling at her friend.

  “I know, but I can't wait,” Kincaid said. “Lulu and

  Justice have to be okay. They have to.”

  At the sound of a car coming up the drive, Kincaid

  stopped pacing. “It's only Clayton,” she said, her

  shoulders slumping when she saw him.

  The girls quickly caught Clayton up on the day's

  events, and he joined the wait-and-watch for word

  from Ephraim Tell's ranch.

  At last they all heard it—the distinctive rumble of a

  huge vehicle rolling up the drive. Mr. Turner pulled

  the livestock trailer to an expert halt and jumped out of

  the cab. Without a word, he and his ranch hands

  opened the back of the trailer and eased out a large

  chocolate brown bison cow and a cinnamon-colored

  calf.

  “Lulu! Justice!” Kincaid howled. “You're back!” She

  threw her arms partway around Lulu's huge neck and

  nuzzled her face. Then she snuggled Justice close in

  her arms. “What did I tell you?” she said to the others,

  tears streaming down her cheeks. “Isn't he the most

  beautiful thing?”

  “Matt and the FBI took custody of the rest of the

  rustled herd,” Bill Turner said, his arm wrapped tightly

  around Mrs. Turner's shoulders. “But he promised that

  after all the evidence is collected and checked, we'll get

  them back. It shouldn't be more than a few days. I told

  them that if I didn't bring Lulu and Justice home

  today, they'd have to answer to Kincaid.”

  Kincaid and her father walked the two bison to the

  corral, and everyone sat on logs watching Justice romp

  and nuzzle his mother.

  “I'm glad it wasn't Antoinette Francoeur,” Clayton

  said. “She's kind of nutty, but I like her anyway.”

  “I'm going to call her,” Nancy said. “She seemed

  truly worried about Lulu and Justice. I think she'll like

  knowing they're okay.”

  “Nancy, we can't thank you enough,” Kincaid said. “I

  was afraid I'd never see them again.”

  “You should have had more faith,” Bess said with a

  laugh. “I told you that no one can buffalo Nancy

  Drew.”

  George groaned, then added, “Especially when she's

  so good at digging up clues!”

 


 

  Carolyn Keene, On the Trail of Trouble

 


 

 
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