The Legend of Deadman's Mine Read online

  “Shut up,” hissed Brian.

  Mr. Morrison shot Brian a look, then smiled. “You best listen to your little friend,” Mr. Morrison told Carter in a menacing tone. “Before your big mouth gets you into a heap of real trouble.”

  Carter was confused. “What are you talking about, Mr. Morrison? I found Nightstar. He’s right there.” Carter pointed to the horse.

  Mr. Morrison gave a mirthless laugh. “I appreciate you boys locating my horse, but I’m afraid the only reward you’ll be collecting will be six feet under.”

  Bobby took a few steps back. “What is he talking about?” he asked Brian nervously.

  “What’s going on?” asked Carter as Mr. Morrison slid a knife out from a sheath at his belt and stepped toward him. “Hey, you guys!” screamed Carter. “Help!”

  Just then Brian sprang at Mr. Morrison, knocking him backward. “Run!” Brian yelled, but before any of them could get away, Mr. Morrison quickly scrambled to his feet, the knife blade flashing in his hand.

  “You snooping kids have been nothing but trouble from the beginning,” he growled. “But now I’m going to take care of all of you once and for all!”

  “Hold it right there!”

  Mr. Morrison whirled, and standing at the entrance of the cave were Woody and the local sheriff. The sheriff had his gun drawn and aimed at Mr. Morrison.

  “It’s over, Morrison,” he said. “Drop the knife.”

  “Drop it, Wade,” Woody said. “He’s right. It’s over.”

  Mr. Morrison took a long look at Woody. “I told you to keep your mouth shut,” he told him, but Woody just shook his head and shrugged.

  “I couldn’t keep your secret no more, Wade,” he said.

  “You’re a fool, Woody,” said Mr. Morrison, and he let the knife fall to the dirt. The sheriff immediately grabbed his arms and clicked a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

  “What’s going on?” Sean asked.

  “Yeah,” grumbled Carter. “And what secret is Woody talking about?”

  The sheriff turned to Brian and smiled. “If I’m right, you must be the young man who’s been asking all the questions about Nightstar.”

  “Yes, sir,” Brian said.

  The sheriff nodded. “I’m Sheriff Anderson,” he said. “Your friend Woody here called me not too long ago and said some kid detective was about to crack the case about the disappearance of Nightstar.”

  The boys all looked at Brian, who sensed from their confused expressions that they expected some kind of explanation.

  “Well,” Brian said, “three years ago Woody and Mr. Morrison had a falling out.”

  “Over what?” Sean asked.

  “Nightstar,” Brian said. “I’m guessing that he died. But since Mr. Morrison didn’t want to lose his high breeding fees, he decided to substitute another horse who looked just like Nightstar.” Brian held up his dye-streaked hands. “Or pretty close, anyway. If you really look, you can see the spots on this horse. He’s not Nightstar.”

  “Wow,” said Sean.

  “Yeah,” said Brian, “but Woody found out about it. That’s what their big fight was all about.”

  Woody nodded his head.

  “But Mr. Morrison was getting in big trouble lately because some of the horse’s colts began to develop serious ankle problems. He knew that an investigation would expose his fraud, so he pressured Woody into helping him.”

  “That’s why after Nightstar was stolen he never filed an insurance claim!” said Sean, remembering what Brian had told him.

  “Right,” said Brian.

  “But how did he pressure Woody?” asked Carter.

  “Cookie told me that Woody had borrowed a lot of money from Morrison to buy a ranch. When the ranch failed, Woody couldn’t pay it back. I bet Morrison told Woody that if he helped keep the fraud quiet, he would forgive the loan.”

  “Cool, Brian! You cracked the case,” Sean said, and gave him a high five.

  “We all helped solve the case,” Brian said. “Even Carter.”

  “Really?” asked Carter.

  “Sure,” said Brian. “You see, when Woody found out that you were determined to locate Deadman’s Mine, he decided to put the skeleton at the entrance to scare you away, at least until he could find someplace new to hide the horse.”

  “What happened?” Carter asked.

  “He realized it was only a matter of time before you found it. I think that’s why he made those phone calls. He was worried that someone might actually get hurt in the mine. He couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Is that right, Woody?” Carter asked.

  Woody nodded. “Yeah. I got to thinking about what might happen if one of you boys stumbled into a mine and got hurt.” He shook his head. “It just wasn’t worth it. So I called Morrison and told him I’d had enough. I was turning myself in. That’s when I called the sheriff here.”

  “And it’s a darn good thing we got here when we did,” Sheriff Anderson said. “You boys are lucky you weren’t seriously hurt.”

  “You’re right, sir,” Brian said, and the boys all mumbled their apologies.

  The sheriff smiled and tipped his hat. “I best bring this one down to jail,” he said, pushing Morrison ahead of him. “Woody,” he said, “I trust you to turn yourself in this afternoon like we planned?”

  “I’ll be there,” he said. The sheriff left with Morrison, then Woody took the reins of the horse and led him out of the cave. At the entrance he turned around. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell the truth sooner. But thanks.”

  The boys waved good-bye to Woody, then they all sighed with relief.

  Brian walked over to Carter. “What do you say we be friends?” He held out his hand, and Carter smiled and shook hands.

  “Cool,” he said.

  The boys all laughed.

  “Gee,” Bobby said at last, “I’m actually kind of sorry to find out that there really is no such thing as Deadman’s Mine.”

  “Yeah,” said Sean. “Me, too. It was fun.”

  All of a sudden, from somewhere deep inside the dark mine came an eerie grumbling.

  “What was that?” asked Bobby nervously, just as a rush of cold air brushed their faces. A low moan echoed through the mine, followed by what sounded like the rattling of chains.

  The boys all turned to one another—eyes as wide as saucers. “The prospector’s ghost!” they screamed, and ran as fast as they could. Even so, Sean couldn’t help but laugh at a thought he couldn’t get out of his head: Just wait until Sam Miyako hears about this!

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1995 by Joan Lowery Nixon

  cover design by Omar Olivera & Andrea C. Uva

  978-1-4532-8274-8

  This edition published in 2012 by Open Road Integrated Media

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