STAY AWAY
They all looked at each other.
“Who could have written that?” Delilah asked.
Simon’s mouth narrowed to a tense line. “Maybe whoever shot at you in the canyon. Whoever followed us. Whoever tried to bury us in a rock slide! We need to get home NOW.”
Henry lingered, his eyes fixed on the dusty message. Was it a message from the mountain itself? A warning from the Thunder God, guarding his gold?
Suddenly, nobody felt like resting anymore. They began to hurry again, bumping and stomping along, stirring up dust in clouds that made them cough and choke. Even Jack no longer complained. They had to get home.
CHAPTER 33
OUT OF DANGER
“THERE IT IS!” Simon cried. They all breathed a sigh of relief. The roof of their house—Uncle Hank’s house—rose amidst the tall cactuses.
“Is there a car in the driveway?” Henry asked nervously.
Simon shook his head. “No, we beat them back. It isn’t even four yet. But let’s go inside and try to clean off.” He glanced at Delilah. “You especially.”
Henry saw that she was covered in grime, her braid a messy tangle. Her cast had not even one square of white left on it. He wondered if her mother would be angry.
Delilah didn’t bother to protest. “I need to call my mom too,” she said.
They thudded up the back steps onto the deck. Simon yanked the sliding door open, and Josie came running from nowhere, streaking past them into the house.
“Josie!” Jack exclaimed. “She beat us down the mountain.”
“That’s how Josie is,” Henry said, smiling, relieved that she too was safely home.
“Hey,” said Jack. “Look … she has something in her mouth. Maybe she KILLED an animal on the mountain!”
He plopped down on the kitchen floor and grabbed the middle of Josie’s body with both hands, hauling her onto his lap. She writhed in irritation.
Delilah turned to Henry. “Maybe it’s whatever she was playing with in the cave.”
“Before the avalanche started?” Henry asked. “The thing she was batting around?”
“Have a look,” Simon ordered. Henry knelt down next to Jack, who was forcefully prying Josie’s jaws open. Hissing, ears flat against her head, Josie struck him twice with her paw and shot out of the kitchen.
Jack held a crumpled wad aloft.
“It’s just a piece of paper,” he complained.
“Really?” Henry asked, taking the damp ball from Jack’s outstretched hand. Gently, he unfurled it, smoothing it in his palm.
Then he caught his breath.
“What is it?” Delilah asked, leaning over his shoulder.
Henry held it up for them to see. It was a wrinkled, cream-colored piece of stationery. The name Henry Cormody was emblazoned in black script across the top. It was the same stationery they’d seen in Uncle Hank’s desk in the basement. Beneath the name, in handwriting Henry immediately recognized as Uncle Hank’s from various postcards and birthday cards that had arrived over the years, were four sentences now searing in their familiarity:
The canyon entrance is on the eastern wall, behind a group of large boulders. Two cottonwood trees grow opposite the boulders. The entrance is narrow, no wider than a man’s shoulders. Continue toward the horse until the bent tree threads the needle.
“The directions to the gold mine!” Simon said. He turned urgently to Delilah. “Where did you say Josie found this?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Delilah said, shaking her head. “Near the entrance to the cave.”
“Do you know what this means?” Simon whirled to Henry, his eyes blazing.
Henry nodded, his heart thudding. “It means Uncle Hank found the mine! He knew where the secret canyon was. He found the gold.”
“He did?” Jack bounced to his feet. “But then why wasn’t he RICH? How come he didn’t bring it all back here?”
They looked at one another in confusion. The Lost Dutchman’s Mine was the richest vein of gold in the entire country. If Uncle Hank had found it, why did he keep it a secret?
Delilah shook her head. “Why would he copy the directions like this? Why didn’t he just bring the other paper with him, like we did?”
“Probably because he didn’t want to lose it. He wanted to keep the original copy safe,” Simon said thoughtfully. “We should have done that too, actually.”
Henry nodded. “It still doesn’t explain where the directions came from … unless … unless these are the same ones Jacob Waltz gave to Julia Thomas.”
“We’ll have to try to figure that out,” Simon said. “And then maybe we’ll know what happened with Uncle Hank and the gold.”
Henry folded the thick piece of stationery and handed it to Delilah. “Put it in your backpack with everything else,” he said. “We’re going to need it.”
“Okay,” she said, quickly complying. “Now let me call my mom. She’ll be worried about me.”
“Yes, and Aunt Kathy and Emmett will be back soon. We have to clean up,” Simon ordered. “Hurry!”
So Delilah quickly phoned her mother while the boys charged down the hall to the bathroom. They had never showered so quickly, one after the other, scrubbing the dust from their hair and the film of dirt from their arms and legs. The water swirling down the drain was nearly black.
“Delilah?” Henry called. “Do you want to shower too?”
She appeared in the kitchen doorway, rebraiding her hair. “No, my mom wants me to come home. I don’t have clean clothes anyway. I washed off my face, and Simon gave me a brush.” She hesitated. “Henry? Can I see the gold before I leave?”
“Sure! Wait here.”
Jack was still in the shower when Henry opened the bathroom door and lifted his dirty pants from the tile. “Jack? Can I show Delilah the gold?”
“No!” Jack yelled, sticking his head around the shower curtain. “That’s mine!”
“Oh, come on, Jack. She let us go look for the gold without her. And she warned us about the avalanche! She waited there, when she could have been smashed to smithereens by all those rocks. She saved us,” he added soberly.
Jack frowned.
“Delilah’s invincible,” Henry said.
Jack sighed, water dripping down his cheeks. “Okay, you can show her,” he decided. “But just this ONE TIME.”
“Thanks,” Henry said, fishing in Jack’s pants pocket for the tiny flecks of gold. A few stuck to his fingertip, and he gently rubbed them across his palm. Under the overhead light, they glistened brilliantly.
He ducked out into the hallway and called to Delilah, his hand outstretched. “Here. You can hold them.”
Delilah walked slowly toward him, eyes wide. She took the cluster of tiny gold flakes from his palm. “Look at them,” she said softly. “They shine like nothing else in this world. Can you believe we found it? The Lost Dutchman’s Mine?” She turned them in her palm, running her fingers lightly over them.
Henry shook his head. “I thought it might be lost forever. And now it turns out Uncle Hank beat us to it.”
Delilah smiled at him, her freckled face still damp and pink from scrubbing. “Know what, Henry?”
“What?”
“I think your uncle Hank would be really proud of you. I think he’d say you’re just like him.”
Henry felt his heart swell, as big and light as a balloon. He grinned back at her.
“Where’s my gold?” Jack yelled from the bathroom.
“Here, take it back to him.” Delilah poured the gold flakes back into his hand. “I have to go anyway. See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Henry said as she turned on her cast and clunked out the front door.
* * *
Moments later, Aunt Kathy and Emmett came bursting into the kitchen. They found the boys sitting quietly at the table, wet and glowing from their showers. Henry was so tired he imagined his bones would sink into the chair and meld there.
“Oh, my
goodness!” Aunt Kathy exclaimed. “What a day we had! It was such an adventure, wasn’t it, Emmett?”
Emmett smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, it really was. Your aunt Kathy is a good sport,” he told the boys.
Aunt Kathy leaned down and kissed Henry’s cheek. “You’re so nice and clean,” she said approvingly. “I have to tell you, you guys would have loved exploring the desert. I felt bad leaving you behind. I hope it wasn’t too dull for you, spending the afternoon here by yourselves.”
Henry, Simon, and Jack exchanged a small, secret glance.
“No,” they said in unison.
“It was fun,” Simon said.
“Yeah!” Jack echoed.
“We had adventures too,” Henry added shyly.
He leaned back in the chair, and Josie promptly leapt into his lap, kneading her paws on the fabric of his pants. He stroked her soft fur, thinking of the rattlesnake and the avalanche and the gold. They had found the Lost Dutchman’s Mine! The entrance was buried in rocks now, but they knew where it was. Would they be able to go back to the gold? Would they figure out how the crumpled note Josie found had been left behind in the cave, and why Uncle Hank had kept his discovery of the mine a secret? And what about the message in the dirt?
Henry thought about the strange town of Superstition, now their home. There were so many mysteries to be solved. Mrs. Thomas the librarian, who had the same name as the Julia Thomas who lived a hundred years ago—and who looked like her, and even had the same handwriting! If the old Julia Thomas from Jacob Waltz’s time was buried in Phoenix, then who was in Julia Thomas’s grave at the cemetery? And what about the historical society? Was it really a band of villainous treasure hunters, who would do anything to get the Lost Dutchman’s gold? Anything, including murder?
Henry thought of all these things as Josie purred in his lap, content. Through the sliding door, across the shadowy yard, he could see the dark silhouette of Superstition Mountain. He knew they would be going back, despite the warning in the dirt. He wondered what surprises it held for them next.
END OF BOOK TWO
AUTHOR’S NOTE
AS IN BOOK 1 of the Superstition Mountain mysteries, the town of Superstition and the contemporary characters in this novel, including the Barker boys’ uncle Hank Cormody, are entirely fictitious. However, all of the historical characters and events mentioned in the story are real or based in fact. While the ghost town of Gold Creek is imaginary, it is based on actual ghost towns in the area, such as Goldfield, now a tourist attraction.
One of the more interesting historical figures is the mysterious Julia Thomas, or Julia Thomas Schaffer, a friend of the gold miner Jacob Waltz who cared for him in the months before he died. On his deathbed, Waltz purportedly gave her either a map showing the location of the Lost Dutchman’s Mine or verbal directions to it. As described in Treasure on Superstition Mountain, in 1892, Julia Thomas went up the mountain searching for the gold in the company of German brothers Hermann and Rhinehart Petrasch. When they were unsuccessful at finding the mine, she made copies of a map that she sold to local treasure hunters for years, earning a living that way. The map depicted in this book is based on descriptions of Julia Thomas’s map, which included the detail of the “rock horse.” In 1893, Julia married Albert Schaffer and moved to Phoenix, where she became involved in a religious cult, as described in the story.
The Superstition Mountain range is every bit as strange and foreboding in real life as it appears in these pages. When my daughter Zoe and I visited the area a couple of years ago, we were surprised and unsettled by how often local residents—at restaurants, gas stations, even the hotel where we were staying—warned us not to go up the mountain. “It’s too dangerous,” they would say. “People go missing there all the time. Hike somewhere else.” But we were determined, so off we went, well supplied with water, sun lotion, and curiosity. We made the arduous hike up the Peralta Trail to Weaver’s Needle, the landmark so prominent in the Barker boys’ and Delilah’s adventures on the mountain. The surrounding landscape was gorgeous, but harsh and isolated. It was all too easy to imagine being stranded or lost. At one point, we accidentally veered off the trail into a dry creek bed and only realized our mistake when another hiker spotted us from some distance away and yelled to us. All in all, the mountain more than lived up to its name, and in writing these mysteries, I’ve had no trouble channeling its spooky atmosphere … or its pervasive, eerie silence.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
IT IS A TRUE PLEASURE TO THANK the following people for their thoughtful contributions to this book:
My fabulous editor, Christy Ottaviano, who has given me the rare gift of a supportive partnership in all of my writing endeavors (not to mention a lovely friendship!). Her excellent critical eye and nimble imagination have improved my books in ways too numerous to count.
My terrific agent, Edward Necarsulmer IV, an unwavering champion of my books whose business skills make it possible for me to earn a living in this challenging field.
The excellent team at Holt, from editorial to book designers to marketing to publicity to sales, who work so hard to shepherd my books into the hands of readers.
The City of Bridgeport, Lieutenant Bob Christie and Captain Ed Martocchio of the Bridgeport Police Marine Division, and Easton First Selectman Tom Herrmann for their kindness in arranging my private tour of a bonafide Connecticut ghost town: Pleasure Beach, an abandoned amusement park on a windswept spit of land in Bridgeport Harbor.
My writer pals, for our many discussions about plot, character, and process that have such an influence on my work: Tony Abbott, Nora Baskin, Elizabeth Bluemle, Bennett Madison, Natalie Standiford, Chris Tebbetts, Ellen Wittlinger, and Lisa Yee.
My wonderful readers, who reviewed a draft of this book under severe time pressure and whose incredibly insightful comments made it so much better: Mary Broach, Jane Burns, Claire Carlson, Laura Forte, Jane Kamensky, Carol Sheriff, Zoe Wheeler, and my younger readers, Anna Daileader Sheriff, Jane Urheim, and Margo Urheim.
Jane Kamensky and Jill Lepore, my Vermont writing retreat buddies, for all those eddies of quiet work time, dog walks, and wide-ranging conversations at Jane’s house in Woodstock.
And finally, I would like to thank my amazing family—Ward, Zoe, Harry, and Grace—for, well, everything else.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elise Broach is the author of Missing on Superstition Mountain (Book 1 of the Superstition Mountain series) and the award-winning novels Masterpiece, Shakespeare’s Secret, and Desert Crossing. She spent her teen years in California and studied the history of the American West in a Ph.D. program at Yale. Though she lives in the woods of Connecticut with her family, the Western landscape is a favorite setting for her stories. Visit her at elisebroach.com.
ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR
ANTONIO JAVIER CAPARO has illustrated many books for children, including The Magic Thief series and The Young Reader’s Shakespeare: A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He lives in Montreal, Canada. www.antoniocaparo.com
Text copyright © 2012 by Elise Broach
Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Antonio Javier Caparo
Henry Holt and Company, LLC
Publishers since 1866
Christy Ottaviano Books
Henry Holt® is a registered trademark of Henry Holt and Company, LLC.
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
mackids.com
All rights reserved
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Broach, Elise.
Treasure on Superstition Mountain / Elise Broach; illustrated by Antonio Javier Caparo.—1st ed.
p. cm.
“Christy Ottaviano books.”
Sequel to: Missing on Superstition Mountain.
Summary: Returning to Superstition Mountain, the Barker brothers, along with their friend Delilah, soon find themselves entangled in more danger and mystery as they uncover a real treasure.
ISBN 978-0-8050-7763-6 (hardcover
)—ISBN 978-0-8050-9640-8 (e-book)
[1. Mountains—Fiction. 2. Brothers—Fiction. 3. Gold mines and mining—Fiction. 4. Superstition Mountains (Ariz.)—Fiction. 5. Arizona—Fiction. 6. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Caparo, Antonio Javier, ill. II. Title.
PZ7.B78083Tr 2012 [Fic]—dc23 2012006475
eISBN 9780805096408
First hardcover edition 2012
eBook edition February 2013
Elise Broach, Treasure on Superstition Mountain
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends