Jupe finally shrugged and gave in. There was no arguing with the burro when she had made up her mind about something. At the moment she had obviously decided to remain exactly where she was. And she wanted Jupe to stay there with her.
When he patted her side, she did let go of his T-shirt. But she didn’t move out of his way. She swung her neck back and looked straight at the cactus.
And then Jupe noticed her ears.
They were laid straight back along her neck.
And the silky hairs on her neck were no longer lying flat against her skin.
They were bristling with fear.
9
Who’s the Boss?
Jupe stood perfectly still, watching the cactus.
Pete and Bob scrambled up beside him. “What gives?” Pete asked.
“I don’t know. Something scared Blondie.”
Bob started forward. Pete held him back. He had also noticed the bristling hairs on the burro’s neck. “See what she does next,” he said.
Blondie did nothing, still staring rigidly at the cactus. For a minute all they could hear was the rancher’s horse panting as it labored up the trail and came to a halt behind them.
“What’s holding you guys up?” Dusty snapped.
Then they heard it.
The faint buzzing that Blondie’s sharp ears had caught much earlier. A sound that meant danger.
The buzzing came from some rocks behind the cactus. It wasn’t as regular as the sound a bee makes. It broke off and then started again, louder, faster.
Standing beside his horse, Dusty drew in his breath sharply. He reached for the rifle in his saddle holster.
“It’s a rattler,” he said. “It’s waiting somewhere behind that cactus. Blondie must have set it off. We’ll have to scare it out so I can get a shot at it.”
The Three Investigators stooped and picked up stones. They held them ready to throw while the rancher leveled and aimed his gun.
“Now,” Pete said.
All three guys threw their stones at the same moment. The buzzing stopped. But it wasn’t followed by silence.
With a high-revved rattling sound the snake came slithering out from beneath the cactus. It was about four feet long. Its broad head raised, it moved frighteningly fast, coiling and uncoiling as it advanced.
The three guys took a quick step backward.
Dusty fired his rifle.
Pete couldn’t tell if the rancher had hit the rattle-snake or not. He sure hadn’t killed it. It darted to one side and kept coming.
Bob watched it with helpless fascination. It was heading straight for him now. He could see its flat eyes, its long darting tongue, the horny cluster of rattles at the end of its raised tail. He tried to move but he couldn’t. He felt as though the snake had hypnotized him.
Dusty worked the bolt of his rifle and raised the barrel.
But he didn’t squeeze the trigger. Blondie was directly in the line of fire.
The little burro’s ears were laid flat back. She turned around rapidly until she was facing away from the snake.
Bob saw the rattler’s head rise even higher. It poised itself for an instant, ready to strike.
Blondie kicked out savagely with both her hind legs.
The burro’s hooves caught the rattler square across the thickest part of its raised body. It sailed up into the air and over the side of the ledge, falling onto the rocks twenty feet below. It lay there for a second as though stunned. Then it slithered out of sight.
Dusty slid his rifle back into his saddle holster.
No one spoke. They all stood there, taking deep breaths. Then without a word they set off on their way again.
Blondie had stopped climbing. She began to circle around the mountain until Jupe could see trees just below them again. The burro descended rapidly toward the trees. Although it seemed to Jupe she was doubling back on her own trail, he didn’t try to restrain her. As Blondie entered the trees and came to a stop, he leaned forward and stroked her neck.
“Okay,” he told her. “Whatever you say goes. From now on you’re the boss.”
When Dusty caught up with the three guys, he had to admit the burro had picked a good place to camp for the night. Firewood and grass were plentiful, and as Blondie showed Jupe by leading him to it, a spring of clear water flowed nearby.
It got cold when the sun went down. The Three Investigators pulled on sweaters over their T-shirts. Pete soon had a good fire going and helped Dusty unload the horse. Dusty unsaddled, fed, and watered her. Then he cooked up a big pot of beans and rice.
Jupe looked at the food on his plate. Carbohydrates! He gulped. Beans weren’t too bad. At least they contained protein as well as starch. But rice was pure poison. Nothing but starch.
Jupe came to a decision. He was on the trail of an exciting case. He needed his strength. Keil Halfebrot would have to take care of his own lettuce leaves for a while. Jupe plunged in and cleaned his plate.
And didn’t ask for seconds. Somehow his stomach felt full. I must be too tired to eat, he thought.
After dinner Bob took off his sneakers and rubbed his feet. They were sore from all that climbing.
“How much farther are we going?” he asked the rancher.
Dusty looked at him sharply. “Aren’t you enjoying the trip?”
Bob looked back at him even more sharply. “I was just thinking about Blondie’s toenails,” he said sarcastically. “Plenty of rocks and stones up here.” He was fed up with Dusty’s lies. And he wanted the impatient rancher to know that he and Jupe and Pete weren’t just kids who would go along with anything Dusty cared to tell them. They hadn’t fallen for that fairy tale about Blondie’s toenails.
“Yeah,” Pete chimed in. “Some of those trails were rougher than a nail file. Why don’t we turn her loose right here?”
Dusty didn’t answer at once. He threw some sticks onto the fire. “That burro knows where she’s going,” he said at last. “She’s heading back where she came from. And she’ll know when she gets there.”
“Home, sweet home,” Jupe said thoughtfully. “Why do you think she ever cut out if the place meant so much to her?”
“It’s hard to say,” the rancher told him impatiently. “Sometimes wild burros just stray away from the herd. Who knows why?”
Jupe knew Dusty was lying again. Blondie hadn’t just strayed all those miles down to the ranch. Someone had led her there. Someone she trusted and would follow. Maybe someone Blondie thought had saved her life, as Ascención had put it. Someone whose voice was uncannily like Jupe’s.
The burro was grazing farther and farther from the fire. The rancher glanced uneasily at her. “You’d better tether her for the night,” he warned Jupe. He managed a fake smile. “We don’t want her wandering back to the ranch again.”
Jupe hoisted himself to his feet. He had hardly noticed it while he was riding, but his legs were now so stiff he could hardly stand up. He walked over to Blondie like a man on stilts and gave her a pat on the rump. “You’ll stick with me, right Blondie?” he said.
“Just the same, I’d feel safer if you tied her up,” Dusty grumbled. “Go on, tether her to a tree.”
Jupe turned and faced him. He shook his head.
“No,” he said. “She might want a drink of water in the night.”
“She’s already had all the water she needs.”
It was a showdown. Jupe knew it and he wasn’t going to give in.
“You want her tied up, do it yourself,” he said. “If she’ll let you touch her.”
His eyes met the rancher’s for a long moment. Blondie might be the boss on the trail. But Jupe was the boss here now.
“Okay,” Dusty agreed at last, crawling into his sleeping bag. “I guess she’ll stick around as long as you’re here.”