Although the campers had had little to eat that day, they knew their main job was to find the horses.

  Shoso seemed to feel sorry for the group. He beckoned them to follow him. Burt and Dave rode double with George and Bess.

  The Indian led them directly toward the campsite where they had left the packhorses. The route was much shorter than the one the group had taken that morning while heading for Old Joe’s.

  “Oh, thank you,” Bess called to him, then remembered that he could not understand her words. He waved and disappeared from view.

  Nancy and her friends rushed to the area where the packhorses had been tied. To everyone’s dismay, the missing saddle horses were not there. Moreover, both packhorses were gone and so were the supplies!

  7

  Old Joe’s Secret

  “Four of our horses gone!” George exclaimed, sighing deeply.

  “And all our food and clothes!” Bess moaned.

  The campers were nonplussed. What were they going to do without them?

  Hal remarked, “Judging from the frayed ropes, I’d say the animals went wild.”

  “Then there’s no telling how far away they went,” Nancy commented. “Maybe Shoso knows.”

  The Indian, however, was not in sight.

  “He’s the most elusive man I’ve ever met,” Bess commented.

  Nancy visualized the tall, erect figure stalking through the forest. Except for the deeper color of Shoso’s skin, his black hair and dark eyes, he was the same type of outdoorsman as Old Joe. The girl wondered if all naturalists were similar in stature.

  Hal, in the meantime, was trying to reassure the campers about their horses. “Sometimes they return to their riders.”

  “That’s right,” Jan agreed. “We’ll manage somehow. If Old Joe can subsist in this forest, so can we.

  Nevertheless, Nancy was disappointed. “I was so hoping all of us could go to Dismal Swamp. After all, my main reason for coming here was to investigate the flying saucer. By now, it may have left.”

  “I doubt it,” Ned remarked. “I’m sure we would have seen it take off.”

  Nancy was not so certain of this. Perhaps the mystery ship had unknown powers that allowed it to depart silently and invisibly.

  “We’ll get to the swamp somehow,” Ned assured her.

  They both looked for hoofprints to see which way the missing horses had gone. The search indicated that the pack animals and riding horses had run off in separate pairs. But the hoofprints of all four led to the bank of a small stream where the prints ended. Evidently the horses had walked through the water. It was growing too dark, however, to continue the hunt.

  Jan said, “Let’s fix a good meal. That will liven our spirits.”

  “Fix it out of what?” Bess asked.

  “The forest,” Jan replied. “I suggest we split up in couples and forage for food. In an hour I would bet we’ll have a great dinner.”

  George laughed. “I’ll feel like a foraging cow. Moo moo. Come on, Burt.”

  Jan asked Bess and Dave to stay nearby in case any of the horses came back. She smiled. “This time, please tie them.”

  “You bet,” Dave promised, still upset about being partly responsible for the two runaway animals.

  Hal and Jan went off in one direction, Nancy and Ned in another. To the young sleuth’s delight, she discovered a huge patch of wild blueberries. “But what can I put them in?” she asked.

  Ned pulled a large brown handkerchief out of his pocket, filled it, and tied the four corners together. Before the hour was up, the couple had gathered wild scallions and grapes as well.

  When they joined their friends, Nancy and Ned were amazed at the variety of food the others had brought back. George and Burt, both mushroom experts, had collected and peeled a large quantity of mushrooms. Hal had chased and caught two rabbits which he had dressed and cut into pieces. He had skewered them onto a sturdy branch broken from a sapling and was now cooking the meat over a small fire Dave had built.

  He and Bess had discovered a sassafras tree and chipped off pieces of bark which they mixed with water in a camper’s abandoned canteen. Bess set it over the fire to brew into tea.

  The meal was enjoyable and satisfying. The group discussed the day’s events and finally the conversation turned to the missing horses.

  George said, “I think we shouldn’t dismiss the possibility that they were stolen.”

  The remark shocked everyone. If this were true, they might never get the horses back!

  “But who would steal them?” Ha! asked. “Very few people roam this mountain and I saw no footprints where the horses were tied. Besides, the frayed ropes seemed to indicate that they yanked themselves loose.”

  Bess asked, “Even if you found footprints, how could you tell that the person who made them had ridden away?”

  Hal smiled. “You don’t step over a horse’s back. You hoist yourself up so you’d make more of a depression in the ground.”

  Bess giggled. “I guess I still have a lot to learn about horse detective work.”

  It was decided that Hal and Burt would start to hunt for the missing animals after breakfast the next morning. Hal said they would pick up the search where the hoofprints ended, ride through the stream, and try to find out where the horses had left the water.

  “We’ll take one of the walkie-talkies along,” Burt said, “so you can let us know if any of the animals return, or if we find any of them we’ll contact you.”

  Dave called, “Big game hunters, bring ’em back alive!”

  “Shush!” said Bess. “You make me shiver.”

  That night the group collected pine needles and slept on refreshing beds of pine. The next morning, as daylight filtered down through the trees, Burt and Hal rode off. The campers who were awake wished them well.

  “Watch out for wildcats and snakes!” Bess warned.

  Burt laughed. “I dare any snake to try biting through these hiking boots.”

  The searchers were gone several hours but did not call in a report. Then suddenly George exclaimed, “Listen! I hear hoofbeats.”

  To be sure, she lay down and put her ear to the ground. “Yes, I hear at least two horses coming,” she announced.

  Everyone expected to see Hal and Burt, but to their amazement Old Joe appeared. He was leading the two lost saddle horses!

  “How wonderful!” Nancy called out as she ran to pat them. “Old Joe, where did you find the horses?”

  Her new friend grinned. “They came to my cabin. Guess they were hungry for something sweet and thought maybe I’d feed them, which I did. I gave them maple syrup candy. How’d they get away from here?”

  Nancy and Ned told him the story, adding that Hal and Burt had gone off to look for the four runaways and the supplies.

  Old Joe became philosophical. “Horses are funny creatures. You never can be sure what they’re thinking. Sometimes they don’t do anything unusual for a long, long time, then something will frighten them and they’ll take off like they’d gone clean beserk.”

  As the campers crowded around the kindly man, Bess asked him if he would like a drink. “We have water and cold sassafras tea.” She giggled and told about the campers’ supper the night before.

  The naturalist chuckled. “You’ll be forest folk before you know it.” Then he thanked them and said he had had a good breakfast. “But I brought you something. I keep a few hens in a cage near my cabin. Trixie stands guard, of course. She chases the wild animals away. I have some hard-boiled eggs for you.”

  As each person took an egg to eat, George remarked, “Too bad Burt and Hal aren’t here. I think we should try to contact them on the walkie-talkie and tell them that the two saddle horses are back.”

  Nancy tried to signal the two searchers, but there was no response. Again and again she called in vain and finally asked Dave to examine the instrument.

  “It seems okay,” he reported. “I’m puzzled why Hal and Burt don’t answer.”

  Old Jo
e spoke up. “Maybe your friends have gone out of range. Or maybe there are too many trees in the way of the signal.”

  When the old naturalist said he ought to be leaving, Nancy remembered that they had not yet heard about his mystery. She asked him about it, and he was delighted that she remembered.

  He began by explaining that he and his parents lived in the city when he was a boy.

  “However, my father was a great nature lover and used to bring me to this forest. I grew to love it as much as he did. After my mother’s death my father and I came here more often. In fact, we once spent several months in the forest. That was when the mystery began.

  “One day soon after we arrived, my father seemed worried. When I asked him what the trouble was, he told me that he was carrying a lot of money and valuable secret papers in his wallet.

  “He said to me, ‘Son, there’s a man who is an enemy of mine. He would like nothing better than to get his hands on all of this. But I don’t intend for him to do so. He must never learn the secret.’

  “That night we were very tired and went to bed early. I slept soundly and when I woke up in the morning, my father was gone. At first I figured he was fishing or picking berries or maybe trying to catch a rabbit for some stew. But he did not come back for hours. I became alarmed.

  “When he finally returned, I asked him where he had been. He said, ‘Oh, just out for a long hike.’

  “I was puzzled, but he didn’t explain. Then suddenly one morning he announced that we were going back to the city. I asked him why and he told me he had business affairs to take care of.

  “We never again came here together. Soon after returning to the city, he had a stroke. He wasn’t able to walk, talk, or write. He lived only three more years.

  “Just before he died he looked up at me and managed to say, ‘F-forest. Mon—b-bur—’ ”

  Spellbound, Old Joe’s listeners now began to ask questions.

  “Do you think your father was saying he had buried the money in this forest?” Nancy asked.

  Old Joe nodded. “I came here many, many times and searched but never had any luck. Finally I decided to leave the city and live here permanently. This forest is more like home to me than any other place. All these years I’ve hoped to find the wallet and my father’s great secret.”

  Nancy was tingling with excitement. If she could only find that wallet! The girl detective wondered, however, what condition it might be in.

  I hope for Old Joe’s sake it’s intact, she thought. Aloud she suggested, “Let’s talk about clues.”

  8

  Pyramid of Rocks

  All the campers had questions for Old Joe. Bess asked him, “Did your father have any special places in the forest he liked to go?”

  “None that I recall,” the naturalist replied. “He loved everything in it.”

  Ned inquired next if the elder Mr. Austin had any favorite trees.

  After thinking over this question for a couple of minutes, Old Joe said, “The taller the tree, the more he admired it. I’d say perhaps the sky-reaching pines were his favorites.”

  “Then we’ll examine those first,” Nancy told him.

  Jan said she wondered if Old Joe’s father would have bothered to make it difficult for his son to find the wallet. “Perhaps your father had some cozy nook where he liked to spend time. Do you know of any?”

  The old man told her the forest was full of wonderful small hideaways. “But so far as I know, there are no deep caves or overhangs of rock. I’m afraid I’m not much help to you.”

  Nancy was not discouraged. She asked Old Joe where he had looked for the wallet.

  He smiled. “Hundreds of places,” he told her, “but there are thousands more just waiting to be explored.”

  Nancy had a strong hunch that Mr. Austin had hidden his valuable wallet in a well-protected place. She suggested that Old Joe accompany the group on a new search.

  “I’d certainly like to find that wallet,” he said longingly. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

  Before the group had a chance to start off, however, they became aware of prolonged, frantic barking from Trixie. She had been left to guard the cabin.

  “Uh-oh, trouble,” Old Joe said worriedly. “Some unwanted visitor, I’ll bet. I must go right back.”

  Nancy offered him one of the saddle horses. “Thanks a lot, but I can make better time on foot,” Old Joe replied and hurried off.

  Ned remarked, “I hate to see that old man go by himself. I think I’ll follow and see if I can help.” Dave decided to go along with him.

  As the barking continued, George said, “Ned and Dave may be gone a long time. Nancy, if you want to start the search, I’ll be glad to go with you.”

  The young sleuth was eager to begin. She mentioned the idea to Jan and Bess, who felt that they should stay behind to guard the camp.

  “We don’t want any more trouble with the horses,” Jan said.

  “Please watch your step,” Bess added.

  Nancy and George took flashlights to explore the hollows of trees and other possible hiding places. They had been searching half an hour for Mr. Austin’s wallet when George found a tree with a deep hole in the trunk.

  Excitedly she flashed her light inside, then exclaimed, “Nancy, there’s something at the bottom that looks like leather.” She laid down the flashlight and reached in. Almost immediately George cried out in pain and yanked out her hand.

  “What happened?” Nancy asked, running to George’s side.

  “Something bit me! Oh! Ow! It hurts!” George replied. She danced around, shaking her hand.

  Quickly Nancy flashed her light on the tree. The beady-eyed head of a small snake was visible at the top of the hollow in the trunk. Blinded by the brightness, the reptile instantly slithered down into its den.

  Was it a poisonous species? Nancy had no idea but decided not to take any chances. She whipped out a handkerchief and tied it tightly around George’s wrist. Then she grabbed a sharp-pointed twig and made a tiny hole in the end of her friend’s thumb. By now George’s hand was swollen.

  “I’m sorry I’ll have to hurt you a little,” Nancy told her friend, “but we must get that poison out before it spreads.”

  She hunted for a sharp stone. After cleaning it off with a green leaf, Nancy drew it across the end of George’s thumb. Blood flowed out and, she hoped, all the poison as well. Soon the swelling subsided, and George said the severe ache was gone.

  “Thanks a million, Nancy,” she said gratefully. “I was really scared.”

  Now that George felt better, Nancy removed the tourniquet. “Do you want to continue the search?” the girl detective asked. “Or would you rather go back to camp for further first-aid treatment?”

  George said she was feeling fine. “The bleeding has almost stopped. Maybe we can find a stream where I can bathe my thumb.”

  The two girls went on, looking intently for places where the Austin wallet might be hidden. Shortly they came to a babbling brook. While George swished her hand in the icy water, Nancy looked closely at the surroundings. She noticed an extremely tall pine tree, perhaps one admired by Old Joe’s father. There was no opening in the trunk, however.

  “Before we leave,” she said to George, “I think I’ll climb the tree and see if there’s anything ahead.”

  Hugging the thick trunk, Nancy started to shinny up the tree. George merely looked on, chiding herself for her sore thumb, as Nancy climbed higher and higher. She was examining every inch of the main trunk and looking at each limb and branch. Nothing indicated that a wallet was hidden among them.

  Finally at the top Nancy scanned the surrounding countryside and shouted down to George, “I can see Dismal Swamp from here. Oh, no, I can’t believe it. The flying saucer is gone!”

  “What a rotten break!” George said. “Let’s hope it’ll come back while we’re still here.”

  Nancy felt miserable because she had lost her chance to see the flying saucer close up. Was her trip in vain?
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  I should have gone to the swamp as soon as the UFO landed, she thought. It was little consolation to her that the missing horses, Bess’s accident, and darkness had compelled her and the others not to ride to the swamp.

  Nancy descended the tree. When she reached the ground, George said, “Don’t feel too bad. That flying saucer is bound to come back.” She grinned. “I just had one of your hunches.”

  Nancy smiled wanly. “I hope it won’t take a hundred million light years, though,” she replied.

  The girls walked on in silence. Despite their keen observance of many trees, short and tall, they found nothing in any of them to indicate a hiding place. George remarked that perhaps they would have to start digging.

  Nancy nodded. “Next time we’ll bring spades and picks. You know, George, we aren’t very good woodsmen, not to have brought even a trowel!”

  In a short while they came to another mountain stream, wider than the other and rocky. Water was rushing rapidly over the stones.

  “Isn’t that pretty?” George remarked. “It looks like a picture for a calendar!”

  “It really does.”

  As Nancy stood on the bank, she noticed a pyramid of rocks about eighteen inches high in the middle of the stream.

  “That’s strange,” she said. “I wonder what it’s for. A marker of some sort?”

  “A marker for what?” George asked.

  Nancy shrugged and did not reply. She decided to investigate. She took off her hiking boots and socks and waded in. Not only had the stones been cemented together, she discovered, but the foundation reached a foot below the bed of the stream.

  Very excited, Nancy asked herself: Could Old Joe’s father have made this pyramid of rocks? Were his valuable wallet and secret papers inside?

  9

  The Black Deluge

  Eager to communicate with Old Joe, but having no idea which direction to take to his cabin, Nancy and George decided to return to camp. Bess and Jan were glad to see them.

  “We’ve been so worried about you. You were gone a long time,” Jan said.