A Flying Arrow

Nancy checked with George and Bess just to make sure that neither of them had taken the journal to read, but she wasn’t surprised by their denials. “I had the feeling someone was watching me last night, ” she told them. “But who would take Big Jake’s journal? ”

“Someone who thought it might lead them to the treasure? ” Bess suggested.

“Well, the thief will certainly be disappointed then, ” Nancy said. “There’s no mention of any treasure in the journal.”

Since everyone was tired from fighting the fire and from Nancy’s earlier excursion in the hall following the Kachina, Maria served an early lunch so they could all settle down for naps. Afterward they planned to spend the warmest part of the afternoon in the swimming pool.

Even while she splashed in the water, however, Nancy kept watching the surrounding hills, hoping for a glimpse of the boy and the pinto horse. Later, after she’d changed out of her bathing suit, she made a search of the now smokeless ruin of the cottage. But there were no clues to be found in the charred wreckage of the building.

Floyd did no better when he came by later. “There’s really not much I can tell you, ” he said after he finished inspecting the ruined cottage. “With so much raw wood around, it would be easy to set a small fire, and once the building was fully engulfed.... Unless someone saw something, I guess we’ll never know for sure.”

“It’s just that there is no way it could have been an accident, ” Chuck stated as he joined them. “That’s what Grandfather said when I told him. No careless cigarettes left burning, no lightning, no mice in the wiring, nothing like that. It just must have been deliberately set.”

Nancy thought of the missing journal and quickly told the two young men about it. “Perhaps someone saw me reading it and set the fire to get us all out of the house, ” she suggested. “I mean, it is gone, so someone must have taken it.”

“I guess if the thief thought the journal would lead him to the treasure that is supposed to be hidden here, he might do something so violent, ” Floyd mused. “But who could it have been? ”

They all looked at Nancy, but she had no answers for them.

She continued to watch for Ngyun, and when she saw the pinto in the distance, she excused herself and walked to the stable. She stopped first at Dancer’s stall, petting the mare and examining her scratched and swollen legs.

When the boy brought his horse in, Nancy went over to him and leaned on the top of the stall. “Have a nice ride? ” she asked.

The boy nodded, but didn’t look up at her.

“Did you happen to see any strange tracks, or anyone in a car or on horseback riding away from here? ” Nancy went on.

This time the almond eyes turned her way. “Why? ” Ngyun asked suspiciously.

“Someone set that cottage on fire and stole a book from my room, ” Nancy told him. “I thought you might have seen him.”

“I go to mountains, ” Ngyun answered after several moments of considering the question. “No one live that way.”

“But you do like to follow tracks? ”

The boy nodded, his shy smile returning. “Grandfather start to teach me, but I not good yet. If he here, he trail whoever do it.”

“You must know a lot about the Superstition Mountains by now, ” Nancy said, changing the subject as they started back toward the great, stone fortress of the resort.

“They different all the time, ” Ngyun answered. “Sometimes people ride or hike or dig gold. I see coyotes teach cubs to hunt and... ”

He was interrupted by a shout from the house and excused himself politely to run to his aunt. Nancy followed more slowly, certain now that Ngyun hadn’t set the fire in the cottage or taken the journal. If only she could prove it, she thought wearily. The poor boy must feel terrible, having people suspect him all the time.

Chuck came to meet Nancy, his face grim. “What did he have to say for himself? ” he asked.

“About what? ” Nancy was surprised by her friend’s tone.

“The way he spent his day.”

“He said he was riding in the mountains, ” Nancy answered. “Why? ”

“I just got a call from Mr. Henry. One of his men rode in a little while ago to tell him that their catch pen and shed were burned, probably sometime early this afternoon. The men spotted the smoke, but by the time they got there, nothing was left but charred wood. ”

“And you think Ngyun had something to do with it? ”

Chuck’s attractive features softened a little. “I don’t want to think that, ” he admitted, “but why would anyone want to burn an old shed and corral that no one is using? ”

“Why would Ngyun burn it? ” Nancy countered.

“He could have been angry because Mr. Henry was the one who came over and told us about the missing filly, and Ngyun thought he was accusing him of stealing her, ” Chuck reminded her. “Or maybe he was just playing Indians and settlers and thought no one would notice. It is in a remote area of the Circle H.”

Nancy considered for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m sure he didn’t burn your cottage, and I don’t think we have two firebugs in the area, do you, Chuck? ”

Chuck sighed. “I have a feeling it isn’t going to matter what I think, ” he replied bitterly. “Mr. Henry’s been a good friend to us and he’s been very patient about open gates and straying cattle. This time he sounded really angry. I don’t know how much longer we can keep Ngyun here.”

“But where would he go? ”

“His mother is now staying with relatives in the Los Angeles area. Living in the city would be rough on him, but if these fires keep up....” He shook his head, not bothering to finish the sentence.

Nancy started to protest, then closed her lips firmly over the words. If Ngyun was to stay, it was obvious that she must clear his name and there was no time to waste.

She and George spent the next hour walking around the desert beyond the walls of the old house, but found nothing significant.

“The ground’s been so marked up by the fire truck that it’s impossible to see anything, ” George complained.

Nancy nodded. “And we have all the hoof marks from the horses yesterday going to the barbecue site. They obscure any other tracks that might have been made.”

“Let’s look under your bedroom window, ” George finally suggested. “Perhaps we can determine whether the thief came in that way.”

This idea proved more productive. Though the ground was too hard to show footprints, Nancy soon discovered something when she examined the window itself.

“Look, George! ” she called out. “See all those smudges on the frame of the screen? That proves someone lifted it down, then replaced it.”

“Did you leave the window open last night? ” George inquired.

Nancy nodded. “The thief had no trouble getting in this way.” She stepped back, then shivered, though the late-afternoon sun was warm beyond the shadow of the house. She had the eerie feeling that they were being watched. She turned slowly, scanning the ridges and washes that formed the landscape between the ranch and the nearby mountains.

George had wandered away from the window, still trying to find a telltale set of footprints. Nancy looked after her, then shifted her attention to a clump of cactus. A roadrunner darted from it to some bushes. Quail chirped sleepily from a closer stand of grass. And a shadowy figure was moving on the crest of one ridge.

There was something so threatening about the vague movement that Nancy dodged behind a sheltering palo verde without seeing clearly what had caused the motion.

The next moment there was a whistling sound, then a “thunk” made the tree’s green trunk shiver. Startled, Nancy looked up to see an arrow quivering in the wood!