“What’s way up there?” Pete wanted to know, glancing at the high range beyond the ranch. “Gold?”
“Sure.” Bob smiled. “The treasure of the Sierra Madre.” He picked a blade of grass and chewed it. “Well, how does it grab you guys? Want to hit the trail?”
“Okay with me,” Pete decided. He enjoyed camping out, cooking over a wood fire, lying in a sleeping bag under the night sky. “How about you two? It might get pretty rough up there.”
“No rougher than a road trip with a rock band,” Bob said. “And that can be plenty rough.” He looked at Jupe. “Whaddaya say?” he asked.
Jupe had never thought of himself as the outdoor type. He would rather think with his brains than his feet. But as an Investigator, he’d had to do a lot of hard legwork in the past. And they were going to solve this case no matter what it took.
“Sure,” he said. “Sierra Madre, here we come. Let’s go tell Rice the good news.”
Jupe was right. It was good news to Dusty. He grinned broadly when Pete told him.
“What say we start tomorrow?” Dusty suggested eagerly.
The Three Investigators agreed that the next day would be fine. Still grinning, the rancher drove off to Lareto to buy supplies for the trip. Pete gave him a big stack of “Miss you” and “Wish you were here” greeting cards to mail to Kelly. Then the three guys split up until lunchtime.
Pete went down to the lake to fish. Bob settled on the porch to clean and disinfect his contact lenses. It was a chore he had to do every week and it might be difficult on the trip. Jupe went to look for Ascención. He had some questions he wanted to ask him.
He found the ranch hand in the kitchen trying to fix a walkie-talkie. He had taken it apart but didn’t seem to be able to put it back together again.
“It’s not my trade,” the Mexican grumbled in Spanish. “Radios. What do I know about radios? Cattle, horses — that’s what I know about.”
“Let me try,” Jupe offered. “I’m used to working with gadgets. Doesn’t it work at all?”
“No. Of course not. Do you think I pulled it apart to amuse myself? I couldn’t get a sound out of it.”
“What do you use it for?”
“To talk into.”
“Is there someone else around here who has one of these things?” Jupe was wondering whom Ascención found to talk to. Except for that distant church tower on the other side of the lake, he hadn’t seen any buildings within miles of the ranch.
“Not as far as I know.”
“Then why do you want it fixed?”
“Because it’s broken.”
Jupe had to be satisfied with that. He soon discovered what was wrong with the walkie-talkie’s receiver — a faulty connection. He didn’t have the right kind of wire to mend it with. So he had to improvise, stripping a length of electrical cord and using the thin copper wire from that.
“Have you known many young Americans?” he inquired in a casual, friendly way as he worked.
“No.” The Mexican was watching him with grave interest. “Are they all as good at fixing things as you are?”
“Some of them.” Jupe tried again. “Have there been any other young American guys staying at the ranch?”
“When?”
“In the past three or four months. Since Blondie came here.”
Ascención shrugged. “Sometimes people stop by,” he said.
“Did any of them sound like me? You know, my voice.”
The Mexican’s craggy face had its usual impassive look, but his dark eyes were smiling.
“All North Americans sound alike to me,” he said.
“They don’t all sound alike to Blondie.”
“Burros have better ears than I do.”
It was a no-go situation, Jupe realized. Ascención knew he was being pumped for information and he wasn’t going to spill.
Jupe finished reassembling the device and switched it on. He couldn’t get any response to his call signals, no matter how he adjusted the antenna, but he was satisfied the walkie-talkie was working again. If there was anyone with another walkie-talkie within range, Ascención would be able to communicate with them.
“There. It’s okay now,” he said.
“Very clever, you Americans.”
“Thank you.”
Maybe Americans were clever at some things. But Jupe knew he would have to get up very early in the morning to outsmart this Mexican.
Ascención picked up the walkie-talkie and thanked Jupe. Then he reached out and shook Jupe’s hand.
“One day we’ll have a long talk,” he said. “One day when — ” He broke off. The phone was ringing. He went to the office to answer it. He was back almost at once.
“It’s for you.”
It must be Hector Sebastian, Jupe thought. He couldn’t think of anyone else who could be calling him here.
But the mystery writer didn’t answer when Jupe picked up the phone. A woman did. An American woman.
“Is this Jupiter Jones?” she asked.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“Never mind my name. It wouldn’t mean anything to you anyway. I have something to show you. Something that’s very important to you.”
Jupe felt a quickening of interest, the excitement he always felt when a case took an unexpected turn.
“Why don’t you come here to the ranch?” he suggested.
“No.” A sudden note of fear crept into her voice. “I can’t come to Dustin Rice’s ranch. It would be much too dangerous for me.”
“Dustin Rice isn’t here,” Jupe reassured her. “He’s gone into Lareto.”
“No.” She still sounded scared. “Someone might see me and tell him. I want you to meet me on the other side of the lake.”
She gave him detailed instructions. He would find a boat pulled up on the shore below the ranch. If he rowed across the lake and walked through the woods toward the church tower he would come to a small village. She would be waiting for him in the main square.
“Come alone,” she finished. “If I see anyone with you, I’ll leave. And you’ll never find out what I have.”
“What do you have?”
But there was only a humming sound on the line.
She had hung up.
7
Jupe Takes the Bait
Jupe walked back onto the porch. Bob had finished cleaning his contact lenses and was now reading his paperback history of Mexico. Jupe told him about the phone call.
“Something she wants to show you,” Bob said. “Maybe she’s got a picture of that American guy who was so tight with Blondie.”
Jupe shrugged. He had thought the same thing himself. But he knew he was only guessing.
“Want me to come with you?” Bob asked.
Jupe told him the woman had insisted he row across alone.
“Hmmm,” said Bob. “Well, you’ll be right out in the open. I guess you can’t get into any trouble. And all that exercise will do you good.”
“Give me a break,” Jupe groaned, heading for the lake.
Jupe couldn’t see any sign of Pete when he reached the lakeshore. He soon found the solitary boat, a small wooden dinghy. Two oars were stowed under the seat.
He pushed the dinghy out onto the water, stepped in, and fitted the oars into the oarlocks.
He began to row.
He found it much more difficult than he’d expected. No matter how hard he pulled, the boat kept drifting sideways. He soon realized why. The lake was not a body of still water. A mountain river flowed into it at one end and out at the other. Even quite close to shore the current was stronger than the tide at Rocky Beach.
Jupe analyzed the problem for a moment, then turned the boat so that it was angled across the lake, into the current. By pulling harder on the right oar, the downstream oar, than on the left, he kept the boat moving toward the far shore without too much drift. But he had to put all his strength into it. Then —