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diff --git a/old/50256-0.txt b/old/50256-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index cded816..0000000 --- a/old/50256-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5199 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Black Treasure, by Roger Barlow - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Black Treasure - Sandy Steele Adventures #1 - -Author: Roger Barlow - -Release Date: October 19, 2015 [EBook #50256] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACK TREASURE *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - SANDY STEELE ADVENTURES - - Black Treasure - Danger at Mormon Crossing - Stormy Voyage - Fire at Red Lake - Secret Mission to Alaska - Troubled Waters - - - - - Sandy Steele Adventures - _BLACK TREASURE_ - - - BY ROGER BARLOW - - - SIMON AND SCHUSTER - _New York, 1959_ - - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - INCLUDING THE RIGHT OF REPRODUCTION - IN WHOLE OR IN PART IN ANY FORM - COPYRIGHT © 1959 BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER, INC. - PUBLISHED BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER, INC. - ROCKEFELLER CENTER, 630 FIFTH AVENUE - NEW YORK 20, N. Y. - - FIRST PRINTING - - LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER: 59-13882 - MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - BY H. WOLFF BOOK MFG. CO., INC., NEW YORK. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - 1 The Man in Blue Jeans 7 - 2 Kit Carson Country 17 - 3 A “Poor Boy” Outfit 33 - 4 Learning the Ropes 46 - 5 A Light in the Window Rock 61 - 6 Cliff Dweller Country 75 - 7 Back of Beyond 90 - 8 Cavanaugh Shows His Colors 103 - 9 Fighting Fire with Fire 116 - 10 Pepper Makes a Play 128 - 11 Serendipity 144 - 12 Cavanaugh Makes a Mistake 154 - 13 Think Like a Dog 165 - 14 Showdown 177 - 15 The Fourth Touchdown 184 - - - - - CHAPTER ONE - The Man in Blue Jeans - - -High jinks were in order as the Regional Science Fair drew to a close in -the big auditorium at Poplar City, California. A board of judges had -selected prize-winning exhibits entered by high-school students from -Valley View, Poplar City and other nearby communities. Now the winners -were blowing off steam while teachers who had supervised the fair sat in -quiet corners and fanned themselves wearily. - -“Step right up, ladies and gentlemen,” Pepper March whooped like a -circus barker as he strutted in front of his First Prize winner, a -glittering maze of electronic equipment. “Broadcast your voice over my -beam of light. The very newest thing in science. Built through the -co-operation of Valley View’s own Cavanaugh Laboratories. Step right -up.... Yes, miss?” A girl had approached the exhibit, wide-eyed. “Please -speak into this microphone.” - -“What do I say?” As she spoke, a quivering pencil of light leaped from a -black box in the booth and her words thundered from a loudspeaker in the -balcony. - -“Oh, recite ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb,’” suggested the big blond boy, and -grinned. - -“‘Mary,’” boomed the girl’s voice from the rear of the hall as Pepper -twiddled a mirror that deflected the light beam to a second -loud-speaker, “‘had a little lamb.’” (Those words seemed to come out of -the floor.) “‘Its fleece was white as snow.’” (The last phrase blared -from a chandelier.) - -“Good old Pepper! Grandstanding again!” muttered Sandy Steele as the -crowd cheered. Sandy stared glumly at a small sign reading Honorable -Mention that perched on the exhibit which he and his pal Quiz Taylor had -entered in the fair. It wasn’t fancy-looking like Pepper’s, he had to -admit. It was just a mound of wet cardboard sheets stuck full of pins, -plus a homemade control panel and some batteries. “Ours _was_ better,” -he added. - -“I agree,” Quiz sighed. “After all the work we put into this thing! -Molding sheets of cardboard to the shape of underground rock layers. -Soaking them with salt water so they’ll carry electric currents that -imitate the direction in which oil deposits flow.” He hooked a wire to -one of the pins and pressed a button. A flashlight bulb on the control -panel winked at him mockingly. “We sure deserve something better than a -Mention!” - -“Step this way, folks,” Quiz called halfheartedly to the passers-by. -“Learn how petroleum can be located, thousands of feet beneath the -earth.” - -Nobody paid any attention except one Valley View boy who was pushing his -way toward Pepper’s booth, a phonograph record under one skinny arm. - -“Sour grapes,” jeered the boy. “You and Sandy better forget that mess. -Come over and watch Pepper play this stereo record over his beam. It’ll -be something!” - -“Shall we?” Sandy looked at his friend miserably. - -“Unh-uh,” answered the short, round-faced boy. “Here comes a customer—I -think.” - -A suntanned little man in faded blue shirt and jeans had ambled up to -their booth and was studying the exhibit with his gray head tilted to -one side. - -“A reservoir behavior analyzer, huh?” he said. “Represents the Four -Corners area. Right?” - -“Why ... yes, sir.” Sandy stared at him, openmouthed. “We built it to -represent the geological structure of the country where the boundaries -of Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico meet. This map and card -explain—” - -“I know the Four Corners,” grunted the little man as he sized up the -tall, sandy-haired youngster. “Is your gadget accurate?” - -“As accurate as we could make it with the survey maps we could find.” - -“Hmmm.” Their visitor’s sharp eyes studied the gray mound. “What happens -if I should drill an oil well here, in the northwest corner of the -Navajo Indian reservation?” He pointed with a lean finger. - -Sandy moved a pin to the spot he indicated, connected it to the control -panel with a length of wire, and pressed a switch. - -Nothing happened! - -Quiz groaned. Why couldn’t the thing show off when they wanted it to? - -“If you drilled there, sir, you’d just have a dry hole,” Sandy said with -more confidence than he felt. “That location must be on the far fringe -of the oil pool.” - -“Right!” The little man grinned from ear to ear, showing a fine white -set of false teeth. “I did drill a wildcat well there. She was dry as a -bone. My ninth duster in a row.... Now what happens if I drill here, -near the bed of the San Juan River?” - -This time a bulb glowed brightly when they stuck their pin into the -cardboard. - -“We can’t be sure, sir,” Sandy hesitated. “We don’t know too much about -geology. Besides, oil is like gold. It’s where you find it, and the only -way you find it is by drilling for it. But I’d guess that, in the -neighborhood you indicated, you’d stand a chance of hitting a thousand -barrels per day.” - -“Eight hundred and fifty barrels,” corrected the man in the blue jeans. -“The well I drilled on the San Juan was the only thing that kept me out -of bankruptcy.” - -A blare of jazz from Pepper’s loud-speakers, now working in unison, cut -off further conversation and gave the boys a chance to study their -strange acquaintance. - -“Why don’t you go over and take in that beam-of-light exhibit?” Sandy -said when Pepper had brought the sound down to bearable levels. “It won -first prize.” - -“That pile of expensive junk?” sniffed the little man. “All the kid did -was to borrow some apparatus from Red Cavanaugh’s Valley View -Laboratory. If I know Red—and I do know the big fourflusher well—he -didn’t make the boy do a lick of real research on it.... Oh!” Again that -wide grin. “You think I’m crazy and want to get rid of me, don’t you? -Here.” - -He dug into his jeans and came up with a greasy card which read: - - The Four Corners Drilling Company - John Hall, President - Farmington, N. M. - -“Guess I should have got dressed up for this shindig,” Hall apologized, -“but I just got in from Farmington. I read about your analyzer in the -_Valley View News_ when you won first prize at your high-school science -fair last month. Used to live there. That’s why I still get the paper. -Your dingus should have received first prize here too, instead of that -voice-cast thing.” - -“Say! You came all this way just to see our exhibit? Thanks!” was all -Sandy could think of to say. - -As the auditorium lights blinked to indicate that the fair was closing, -Hall added, “Got time for a bite? I have a proposition I’d like to sound -you out on.” - -At a nearby diner, the oilman ordered full meals for all of them. - -“Here’s my proposition,” he said when the boys couldn’t eat another -mouthful. “I’m a small wildcat operator. That means I hunt for oil in -places that are so wild and woolly that only wildcats can live there. -Once or twice I’ve struck it rich. Should have retired then, but there’s -something about oil exploration that gets in a feller’s blood. So I went -out, drilled some dry holes, and lost my shirt. - -“Right now I’m strapped until my new field pays off—if it does. But I -think I’m onto something big in the Four Corners and I need help. You -boys must have a working knowledge of geology to build an analyzer as -good as that. How about working for me this summer?” - -“Sandy’s the rock hound,” Quiz said and hesitated. “I ... I’ve only read -up on it in books.” - -“All I know is what Dad has told me,” Sandy remarked. “I couldn’t have -built the exhibit without Quiz’s help.” - -“Forget the mutual-admiration-society stuff,” said Hall. “Would you both -like to spend your vacations in the Four Corners, working as roustabouts -and helping me out wherever else you can? It won’t be easy. But when you -get through you’ll know a lot about oil, geology, how to get along with -Indians, and I don’t know what all. - -“You’ll be out on the desert in all kinds of weather. You’ll chip rocks, -hold stadia rods, sharpen tools and dig the trucks out of holes on those -awful roads. Everything you learn will come in handy when you go to -college.... You are going, aren’t you?” - -Sandy nodded but Quiz shook his head miserably. - -“I doubt it,” he said, “unless things at Dad’s restaurant pick up.” - -“Nonsense,” Hall snorted. “You can get a scholarship in geology if -you’ve had experience in the field. Tell you what: I know your father -slightly—he serves mighty good victuals. I’ll go over to Valley View -tomorrow and talk things over with him. I’ll bet we can work something -out for you. - -“Here’s another thing, though,” he went on thoughtfully. “I’ve got -almost every cent I own tied up in oil leases right now. I can’t pay -either of you very much—say forty dollars a week. You probably can do -almost as well right at home.” - -“I’d rather work with you than wait on table,” Quiz declared. - -“Or cut lawns and things,” Sandy added. - -“It’s settled then.” Hall shook hands gravely. “See you in Valley View.” - -As they were leaving the diner, Pepper March came charging in with a -flock of admiring Valley Viewers behind him. - -“Wait up,” Pepper whooped, grabbing his defeated rivals as they tried to -dodge past him. “My treat. Come have a Coke while I tell you about my -good luck.” - -“_Another_ Coke!” Sandy groaned. He had practically lived on them during -the science fair. But curiosity got the better of him and he went back -to the counter, followed by Quiz. By the time he found a stool, Pepper -was holding forth. - -“You know Mr. Cavanaugh, the man I got some of the stuff for my -voice-caster from?” - -“The man from whom you borrowed _all_ your equipment,” Sandy corrected -between his teeth. - -“That’s what _you_ think, Honorable Mention.” Pepper turned to his -admirers. “Anyway, he has a sideline: spends his summers hunting -uranium. Also, he’s the same Red Cavanaugh who was All-American -quarterback for State U. in 1930. He’s the fellow who ran three -touchdowns against California in the Thanksgiving game that year.” - -“There was a Cavanaugh who made All-American,” Quiz agreed as he -scratched his round head, “but I thought....” - -“See!” cried Pepper. “Quiz knows all there is to know about football. -He’s heard about Red. Well, Mr. Cavanaugh attends all the Valley View -games. Says he likes the way _I_ run touchdowns.” Pepper leered at -Sandy, who was not always the spectacular player that Pepper was. “Also, -Mr. Cavanaugh appreciates the plugs I gave to his laboratory whenever I -explained my voice-caster, so what do you think...?” - -“He’s going to install you as a loud-speaker in one of his TV sets,” -Quiz suggested. - -“Nah!” Pepper stopped the laughter with a lordly, upraised hand. “He’s -giving me a summer job. I’m going to help him hunt uranium.” - -“Where?” Sandy gave his pal a stricken look. - -“Where? Why, the place where there’s more uranium than almost anywhere -in the United States. But you wouldn’t know where that is.” - -“Oh, no,” groaned Quiz. “Not the Four Corners. Not there! Ain’t there no -justice?” - -“What do you mean?” Pepper looked at him doubtfully. - -“I mean Sandy and I have jobs there too, and Four Corners is going to be -awfully crowded this summer.” - -“Oh.” Some of the wind went out of Pepper’s sails. Then he brightened. -“I’ll buy another round of Cokes if either of _you_ is going to get -sixty dollars a week,” he crowed. - - - - - CHAPTER TWO - Kit Carson Country - - -“This sure isn’t my idea of a boom town!” Sandy grumbled as he and Quiz -got off the eastbound Greyhound at Farmington, New Mexico, dropped their -dusty bags and stood watching the early morning bustle on the little -town’s wide streets. - -“Yeah.” Quiz wagged his head. “The Wild West shore ain’t what she used -to be, pardner. No twenty-mule-team wagons stuck in Main Street -mudholes. No gambling dives in evidence. No false store fronts. No -sheriff in a white hat walkin’ slowlike down a wooden sidewalk to shoot -it out with the bad man in a black hat. Ah, for the good old days.” - -“Oh, go fly a jet,” Sandy grinned. “Let’s look up Mr. Hall. Funny, his -giving us his home address. He must have an office in town.” - -They strolled along, noticing the new stores and office buildings, the -modern high school. Farmington would never become a ghost town. It was -building solidly for the future. - -Suddenly Quiz grabbed his friend’s arm. - -“Look at that oilman who’s just made a strike,” he said. “We’ll ask him -if he knows Mr. Hall.” - -“How do you know that he is, and has?” Sandy demanded as they approached -a lanky stranger. - -“Because he’s wearing a brand-new Stetson and new shoes, of course,” -Quiz explained, as to a child. “Drillers always buy them when their well -comes in.” - -“Trust you to know something like that,” Sandy said in mock admiration. - -“Well now,” drawled the Farmingtonian when they put their question, -“you’d have to get up earlier than this to catch John Hall in town. John -keeps his office in his hat. Might as well spend the day seeing the -sights, and look him up at his motel when he gets back from the Regions -tonight.” - -“What sights?” asked Sandy when the oilman, obviously a transplanted -Texan, had stumped away in high-heeled boots that must have hurt his -feet. “Those mountains, maybe? They look close enough to touch. Let’s -walk out to them.” - -“Don’t let this clear, thin air fool you,” Quiz warned. “Those mountains -are probably twenty miles away. We’d need a car to—” - -A great honking and squealing of brakes behind them made the boys jump -for safety. As they turned to give the driver what-for, Pepper March -stuck his curly head out the window of a new jeep that was towing an -equally new aluminum house trailer as big as a barn. - -“Welcome to our fair city,” Pepper shouted. “Saw you get off the bus, so -I prepared a proper reception. How about a guided tour while I run this -trailer over to Red’s camp?” - -“How long have you been here?” Sandy asked as they climbed aboard. - -“Red flew me over last Friday in his Bonanza. I’ve got the hang of his -entire layout already. Nothing to it, really.” - -As he headed the jeep for the mountains, Pepper kept up a monologue in -which skimpy descriptions of the countryside were mixed with large -chunks of autobiography. - -“Every square mile of this desert supports five Indians, fifty sheep, -five hundred rattlesnakes and fifty thousand prairie dogs,” he joked as -they left the pavement for a winding dirt trail. They bounced madly -through clumps of sagebrush, prairie-dog colonies, and tortured hills -made of many-colored rock. - -“These roads wear out a car in a year, and you have to put in new -springs every three months,” he added as they hit a chuckhole that made -their teeth rattle. - -“Look at those crazy rock formations,” he said later while the boys -sweated and puffed to jack up the rear end of the trailer so it could -get around a particularly sharp hairpin turn in the trail. (_Now_ they -knew why Pepper had extended his invitation for a tour!) “No telling -what minerals you might find if you used electronic exploration methods -on scrambled geology like this. Why, only last night, while we were -sitting around the campfire at Elbow Rock, I said to Red: ‘Red,’ I said, -just like that—we’ve become real pals already, you know—‘Red,’ I said, -‘why don’t we branch out? Why don’t we look for oil as well as uranium, -now that we’re out here?’ And Red said to me: ‘Pepper,’ he said—” - -“‘—when did you get your Ph.D. in geology?’” Sandy cut in. - -“Nothing like that at all! ‘Pepper,’ he said, ‘you’re right on the -electron beam. We’ll organize the Red Pepper Oil Exploration and -Contracting Company and give John Hall and those other stick-in-the-muds -a run for their money.’ Oops! Hope we didn’t break anything that time!” - -The jeep’s front wheel had dropped into a pothole with a terrific thump. - -They found that the axle had wedged itself against a rock. Thirty -minutes later, while they were still trying to get it loose, a -rattletrap car pulled up beside them and an Indian stuck his flat, -mahogany-colored face through its window. - -“Give us a hand—please,” Pepper ordered. - -The newcomer started to get out. Then his black eyes settled on the -lettering on the side of the trailer: - - Cavanaugh Laboratories - Farmington, N.M. & Valley View, Cal. - -“Cavanaugh! Huh!” snorted the Indian. He slammed the door of his car and -roared off in a cloud of yellow dust. - -“Those confounded Indians,” snarled Pepper, staring after him in -white-faced fury. “I’d like to.... Oh, well. Come on, fellows. Guess -we’ve got to do this ourselves.” - -They finally got the jeep back on the trail and drove the twenty miles -to Elbow Rock without further mishap. There Pepper parked beside a -sparkling trout stream. They raided the trailer’s big freezer for -sandwich materials and ate lunch at a spot overlooking a thousand square -miles of yellow desert backed by blue, snowcapped peaks. Pepper was at -his best as a host. For once in their lives, Sandy and Quiz almost liked -him. At least here he seemed much pleasanter than he did at home, -lording it over everyone—or trying to. - -In the cool of the afternoon—85 degrees in the sun instead of the 110 -degrees the thermometer had shown at noon—they rode the jeep back to -Farmington by way of a wide detour that took them within sight of the -San Juan River gorge. - -“I wanted to show you those two oil-well derricks over yonder,” Pepper -explained. “They’re a mile and a half apart, as the crow flies. But, -because they’re on opposite sides of the river, they were 125 long miles -apart by car until we got that new bridge finished a few months ago. -Shows you the problems we explorers face.” - -“The San Juan runs into the Colorado, doesn’t it?” Quiz asked as he -studied the tiny stream at the bottom of its deep gorge, under the fine -new steel bridge. - -“Yep. And thereby hangs a tale. Mr. Cavanaugh—Red, I mean—has found -state documents down at Santa Fe showing that the San Juan used to be -navigable. But the confounded dumb Indians swear it can’t be navigated. -If boats _can_ go down the stream, even during part of the year, the -river bed belongs to the Federal government. If the stream _can’t_ be -navigated, the Navajos own the bed. That’s the law! While the argument -continues, nobody can lease uranium or oil land near the river. Red says -that, one of these days, he’s going to prove that—oops! I’m talking too -much!” - -Pepper clammed up for the first time they could remember. He said hardly -a word until he dropped them off at Hall’s motel. - -“I don’t get it,” Quiz said to his chum as they walked up a graveled -path from the road to the rambling adobe building. - -“Don’t get what?” Sandy wanted to know. - -“This uranium hunting business Pepper’s got himself into. I read in -_Time_ a while back that the Federal government stopped buying uranium -from prospectors in 1957. Since then, it has bought from existing mills, -but it hasn’t signed a single new contract. Cavanaugh doesn’t own a -uranium mill. So why is he snooping around, digging into state documents -and antagonizing the Indians?” - -“I only met him once, when he snooted our exhibit as a judge at the -regional science fair,” Sandy replied. “Can’t say I took to him, under -the circumstances.” - -“There’s something phony about that man. If only I could remember ... -something to do with football, I think.” Quiz scratched his head, but no -more information came out. - -They found Mr. Hall, dressed as usual in faded levis and denim shirt, -sitting with several other guests of the motel on a wide patio facing -the setting sun. - -“Well, here are my roustabouts,” the little man cried with a flash of -those too-perfect teeth. “I was beginning to be afraid that you had lost -yourselves in the desert.” - -He introduced them to the owners of the place, two maiden ladies from -Minnesota who plainly were having the time of their middle-aged lives -here on the last frontier. The Misses Emery, as alike as two wrinkled -peas, showed the boys to their room, a comfortable place complete with -fireplace and an air conditioner. - -“Supper will be served in half an hour,” said one. - -“Don’t be late,” said the other. - -The newcomers scrubbed the sticky dust off their bodies and out of their -hair, changed into clothes that didn’t smell of jeep, and were heading -for the dining room when Mr. Hall overtook them. - -“You may be wondering why I live out here on the edge of the desert,” he -said quietly. “One reason is that I like the silence of desert nights. -Another is the good cooking. The most important reason, though, is that -some of the Farmington places are pretty nasty to Indians and Mexicans. -Me, I like Indians and Mexes. Also, I learn a lot from them when they -let their hair down. Well, here we are. You’ll find that the Misses -Emery still cook like Mother used to. I’ll give you a tip. Don’t talk -during supper. It isn’t considered polite in the Southwest.” - -“Why is that?” Sandy wondered. - -“It’s a hang-over from cowpunching days. If a ranch hand stopped to -talk, somebody else grabbed his second helping.” - -After a silent meal, the guests gathered on the patio to watch the stars -come out. - -“Folks,” said Mr. Hall, “meet Sandy Steele and Quiz Taylor. They’re -going to join my crew this summer. Boys, meet Miss Kitty Gonzales, from -Window Rock, Arizona. She’s going north in the morning to teach school -in the part of the Navajo reservation that extends into Utah. Her -schoolhouse will be a big trailer. Too bad you can’t be her students, -eh? But sixteen is a mite old for Miss Kitty’s class.” - -Kitty was slim, in her late teens, and not much over five feet tall. She -had an oval face, black hair and eyes, and a warm smile that made the -newcomers like her at once. - -“This is Kenneth White,” Hall went on. “Ken works for the Bureau of -Indian Affairs. When he talks, you listen!” - -The white-haired man gave the boys handshakes that they felt for an -hour. - -“Chief John Quail, from the Arizona side of the Navajo reservation,” -Hall said next. “The chief is here to talk over an oil lease.” - -Chief Quail, a dark, heavily muscled Indian, wore a light-gray business -suit that showed evidence of the best tailoring. He surprised the boys -by giving them the limpest of handshakes. - -“And Ralph Salmon, boss of my drill crew,” Hall concluded. “Ralph’s a -southern Ute from Colorado. Do exactly as he says this summer if you -want to learn oil.” - -The lithe, golden-skinned young Indian nodded, but did not shake hands. - -“So you’re off to your great adventure in the morning, Kitty,” White -said to break the conversational ice. He lighted a pipe and leaned -against the patio railing where he could watch the changing evening -light as it stole over the desert. - -“I’m so excited I won’t be able to sleep,” the girl answered in a rich -contralto voice. “It’s all so wonderful. The oil lease money pouring in -like this, after long lean years when starvation for the Navajos was -just around the corner and it looked as though their reservation might -be taken from them. Schools and hospitals being built all over. My -wonderful new trailer with books and maps and even a kitchen and a -shower for the children. Oh, my Navajos are going places at last.” She -gave an embarrassed laugh at her long speech. - -“One place your Navajos can go is to Salt Lake City,” Hall growled. “Get -the state of Utah to settle that quarrel about who owns the land your -schools and hospitals are being built on. Then I can get my hands on -some leases up there.” - -“I thought the Navajo reservation was in New Mexico and Arizona,” Sandy -said. - -“A small part of it is in southern Utah,” Hall explained. “That’s the -part bounded by the San Juan River.” - -“The argument over school lands is less important than our other -disputes,” Chief Quail said carefully. He spoke good English but his -words seemed to be tied together with string. Plainly, he had learned -the white man’s language not many years ago. “The real problem—the one -that is, how do you say, tying up millions of dollars of lease money—is -to have a correct boundary drawn around the Hopi reservation.” - -“The chief means,” Hall explained for the boys’ benefit, “that the -Navajo reservation forms a large rectangle that completely surrounds a -smaller square of land in Arizona where the Hopi Indians live.” - -“Not a square, Mr. Hall,” Chief Quail objected. “The Hopis really own -only a small triangle. Those primitive, stupid cliff dwellers claim -thousands of Navajo acres to which they have no right. If I had my way -in our Council, I would....” - -“The Navajos _and_ the Hopis are all grandmothers,” Salmon cut in -angrily. “Squabbling over money like palefaces! Spending their royalties -on things like schools and hospitals! When my tribe, the southern Utes, -got its first royalty check, the Council voted to have some fun with the -money. We spent it to build a race track for our fast horses!” - -“Digger Indian!” The Navajo sneered at Salmon without moving a muscle of -his broad face. “Fish eater! Soon you will waste all your easy money. -When the oil runs out you will be running about naked again, living on -roots and fried caterpillars like you used to!” - -“Oh, no, John.” The Ute’s grin was just visible in the gathering -darkness. “Maybe we’ll go on the warpath and take what we need from you -fat Navajo sheep herders, as we did in the good old days. Or—” he added -quickly as the chief lunged to his feet—“we’ll sing you to death. Like -this!” - -Salmon began a wailing chant that set everyone’s teeth on edge. The -Navajo stopped his advance as if he had struck a wall. He clapped his -hands over his ears and, after a moment, stalked out into the night. - -“You shouldn’t have done that, Ralph,” Hall said coldly. “Some day Chief -Quail is going to take you apart if you don’t stop baiting him.” - -“Can you actually sing people to death, Mr. Salmon?” Sandy said to break -the tension. - -“Of course not,” the Ute answered softly. “But the chief _thinks_ I can, -and I wouldn’t spoil his belief for anything. We have a set-to like this -every time we meet. Some of our medicine men can sing people _well_, -though. They chant awhile and then pull the pain right out of your -tooth, ear, or stomach.” - -“What does a pain look like?” Quiz asked, half convinced. - -“Looks just like a fingernail about two inches long,” the Ute answered. -“It’s bright red. If you strike it, it goes _tinnnggg_, like the reed of -a saxophone.” - -“Stop your nonsense, Ralph,” White commanded, “while I go out and smooth -Quail’s ruffled feathers.” He followed the chief and brought him back -five minutes later to receive an oily apology from his ancestral enemy. - -“You Indians will be broke again, one of these days, if you keep -quarreling among yourselves,” Hall said then. “Crooked white men are -hanging around the Four Corners. They’re just waiting for something like -that so they can trick you out of your oil and uranium rights, or even -your reservations.” - -Everyone had to agree that this was true, so the little party settled -down in reasonable harmony to watch the giant stars come out. Salmon -produced a guitar after a while. Then he and Kitty sang Indian and -Mexican songs together. Sandy particularly liked one that went: - - _I wander with the pollen of dawn upon my trail._ - _Beauty surrounding me, with it I wander._ - -“That’s a Navajo song,” the Ute said, grinning. “We sing it in honor of -Chief Quail. Here’s one by a white man that I like: - - _Mañana is a lovely word we all would like to borrow._ - _It means ‘Don’t skeen no wolfs today wheech you don’t shoot - tomorrow.’_ - _An’ eef you got some jobs to did, of which you do not wanna,_ - _Go ’head and take siesta now; tomorrow ees mañana!”_ - -“Guess that’s a hint we’d better take our siestas,” Hall said to the -boys. “Big day ahead mañana.” - -“This country sort of grows on one,” Sandy said to Kitty as they shook -hands. “I’m beginning to feel at home already.” - -“Oh, you haven’t really seen anything yet,” the girl answered. “If you -and Mr. Taylor get up in the neighborhood of my school, look me up. I’ll -show you some of the wildest and most beautiful country on earth.” - -“Mother said I’d fall in love with the place.” Sandy took a last look -across the sleeping desert. “She was born not far from here. Met my -father when he was working for the U.S. Geological Survey.” - -“How interesting,” cried the girl. “Maybe my folks know her. What was -her maiden name?” - -“It was Ruth Carson.” - -“Oh!” Kitty snatched her hand out of his. “She’s related to Kit Carson, -isn’t she?” - -“The general was my great-uncle,” Sandy said proudly. “That’s why I’m so -interested in this part of—” - -He stopped because Kitty had backed away from him until her back pressed -against the motel wall. As he stared, she spat into the dust of the -patio in a most unladylike fashion before turning and running toward her -room. - -“What did I do to her?” Sandy gasped, openmouthed. - -“Kitty’s mother is a Navajo,” Chief Quail answered. “Back in Civil War -days, Kit Carson rounded up the Navajos to take us away from our -reservation. We went on the warpath and retreated into the mountains. -Carson followed. His soldiers shot several dozen of us, and slaughtered -all our sheep so we would either have to surrender or starve. Even -today, many of us would rather eat fish as the Utes do than touch one of -Kit Carson’s descendants!” He turned his back and marched off. - -“Ouch!” Sandy groaned. “I certainly put my foot into it that time.” - -“Don’t worry too much about it,” said White. “Fact of the matter is that -Kit Carson made a mighty good Indian Agent later on, and most Navajos -admit it. He was the man who insisted that they all be returned to the -reservation after the rebellion was over. He eventually died from -overwork in behalf of ‘his Indians.’ Except for a few diehards, the -Navajos won’t hold your mother’s name against you.” - -“I certainly hope you’re right,” Sandy sighed as he and Quiz said good -night to the others and headed for their room. - -“What a mess,” his friend said. “Navajos squabbling with Utes, Hopis and -the state of Utah. Crooks waiting to take advantage of them all. Pains -like fingernails! Cavalry heroes who turn into villains. I suppose -that’s why the biggest oil field in the Four Corners is called the -Paradox Basin!” - - - - - CHAPTER THREE - A “Poor Boy” Outfit - - -Hall routed Ralph Salmon and the boys out of bed before dawn the next -day. They ate a huge pancakes-and-sausage breakfast cooked by the -sleepy-eyed but cheerfully clucking Misses Emery and climbed into the -company jeep just as the sun was gilding the peaks of the mountains. -Soon their teeth were chattering in the morning cold as Salmon roared -off in a northwesterly direction toward the San Juan River lease. - -“I wouldn’t have come down to Farmington at all this week,” Hall shouted -above the wind which made the jeep top pop and crack, “except that I -promised to pick up you boys, and Ralph had to get our core drill -repaired. That’s the drill you hear thumping under the seat. We’re down -a thousand feet with our second well and I should be riding herd on it -every minute.” - -“You’re a worrywart, boss,” chuckled the Indian. “You know that Harry -Donovan’s on the job up there. He can handle things just as well as you -can.” - -“You’re right,” Hall answered. “But somehow it doesn’t seem right to -have a geologist bossing the drill crew. That’s a hang-over from my days -with a big spit-and-polish producing company, I guess. - -“Ours is what they call a ‘poor boy’ outfit here in the oil country,” he -explained to Sandy and Quiz. “We make do with secondhand drill rigs and -other equipment. Sometimes we dig our engines and cables out of junk -yards.” - -“Now, now, boss, don’t cry,” said their driver. “It’s not quite that -bad.” - -“It will be if this well doesn’t come in.” Hall grinned. “But we do have -to make every penny count, kids. We all pitch in on anything that needs -doing. What kind of jobs have you cooked up for our new roustabouts, -Ralph?” - -“There’s a new batch of mud to be mixed,” the Indian answered. “How -about that for a starter?” - -“Mud!” Quiz exploded. “What’s mud got to do with drilling an oil well?” - -“Plenty, my friend. Plenty,” Ralph answered. “Mud is forced down into a -well to cool the drill bit and to wash rock cuttings to the surface. You -use mud if you have water, that is. In parts of this country, water’s so -short, or so expensive to haul, that producers use compressed air for -those purposes. We’re lucky. We can pipe plenty of water from the -river.” - -“Then you mix the water with all sorts of fancy chemicals to make -something that’s called mud but really isn’t,” said Sandy, remembering -tales of the oil country that his father had told him. - -“You’re forgetting that we’re a ‘poor boy’ outfit,” said Hall. -“Chemicals cost money. We dig shale from the river bed and grind it up -and use it for a mix. You’ll both have a nice new set of blisters before -this day is over.” - -They followed a good paved road to the little town of Shiprock, which -got its name from a huge butte that looked amazingly like a ship under -full sail. Crossing the San Juan over the new bridge that Pepper had -pointed out the day before, they turned northwest onto a badly rutted -trail. Here and there they saw flocks of sheep, watched by half-naked -Indian children and their dogs. Occasionally they passed a six-sided -Navajo house surrounded by a few plowed acres. - -“Those huts are called hogans,” Ralph explained, placing the accent on -the last syllable. “Notice that they have no windows and that their only -doors always face toward the rising sun. Never knock on a hogan door. -That’s considered bad luck. Just walk in when you go to visit a Navajo.” - -“Whe-e-ew!” Sandy panted when an hour had passed and he had peeled out -of his coat, shirt, and finally his undershirt. “How can it get so hot -at this altitude?” - -“Call this hot?” jeered Salmon. “Last time I was down in Phoenix it was -125 degrees in the shade, and raining cats and dogs at the same time. I -had to park my car a block from the hotel, so I ran for it. But when I -got into the lobby my clothes were absolutely dry. The rain evaporated -as fast as it fell!” - -“That,” said Hall, “is what I’d call evaporating the truth just a leetle -bit.” - -“Mr. Salmon....” Quiz hesitated. “Could I ask you a personal question?” - -“You can if you call me Ralph,” answered the tall driller as he slowed -to let a Navajo woman drive a flock of goats across the trail. She was -dressed in a brightly colored blouse and long Spanish skirt, as if she -were going to a party instead of doing a chore, and she did not look up -as they passed. - -“Well, how is it you don’t talk more—like an Indian?” Quiz asked. - -“How do Indians talk?” A part of the Ute’s smile faded and his black -eyes narrowed ever so slightly. - -“Why, I dunno—” the boy’s face turned red with embarrassment—“like Chief -Quail, I guess. I mean ... I thought....” - -“When you’ve served a hitch in the Navy, Quiz, you get to talking just -like everyone else, whether you’re an Indian or an Eskimo.” - -“Were you in Korea, Ralph?” Sandy asked to break the tension. - -“I was not! I served my time working as a roustabout on oil wells in one -of the Naval Reserves.” - -“And, since that wasn’t enough punishment,” Hall said as he grinned, -“Ralph came home and took advantage of the GI bill to go to school in -Texas and became a driller.” - -“Yep,” Salmon agreed. “And I soon found out that an Indian oil driller -is about as much in demand as a two-headed calf.” He threaded the car -through the narrow crevice between two tall buttes of red sandstone that -stuck up out of the desert like gnarled fingers. “I was just about down -to that fried caterpillar diet that Chief Quail keeps kidding me about -when a certain man whose name I won’t mention gave me my first job.” - -“And you turned out to be the best all-round oilman I ever hired,” said -Hall as he slapped the other on his bronzed, smoothly muscled back. “I -figured that if Iroquois Indians make the finest steelworkers in the -construction business, a Ute should know how to run a drill rig. I -wasn’t mistaken.” - -Salmon was at a loss for words for once. His ears turned pink and he -concentrated on the road, which was becoming almost impassable, even for -a jeep. - -“That’s my reservation over there across the Colorado line,” he said at -last, turning his head and pointing with outthrust lips toward the north -and east. - -“Nice country—for prairie dogs. Although the southern Utes are doing all -right these days from royalties on the big oil field that’s located just -over that ridge. They tell me, too, that the reservation holds one of -the biggest coal deposits in the western United States.” - -“Why didn’t you stay on the reservation, then?” Quiz wanted to know. - -“I like to move around. People ask me more questions that way.” - -“Oh.” Quiz stopped his questioning. - -“Up ahead and to the left,” Ralph went on, “is the actual Four Corners, -the only place in the country where the boundaries of four states meet. -It also is the farthest point from a railroad in the whole United -States—one hundred and eighty miles or so, I understand. How about -stopping there for lunch, boss, as soon as we cross into Utah? Nice and -quiet.” He winked at Quiz to take any sting out of his earlier words. - -After they had eaten every one of the Misses Emery’s chicken and ham -sandwiches, Hall took over as their driver and guide. - -“My lease is up near the village of Bluff, on the north side of the -river,” he explained. “I’m convinced, though, that most of the oil and -uranium is in Navajo and Hopi territory south of the San Juan. I’ve had -Donovan down there running seismographic surveys and he says the place -is rich as Croesus. That’s why I’ve been talking turkey to Chief -Quail—trying to get him to get the Navajo and Hopi councils together so -we can develop the area.” - -“Is Quail chief of all the Navajos?” Sandy asked. “He didn’t seem to be -exactly....” He stammered to a stop while Ralph chuckled. - -“Oh, no,” Hall answered. “Quail is just a chief of one of the many -Navajo clans, or families. The real power is held by the tribal council, -of which Paul Jones is chairman. But Chief Quail swings a lot of weight -on the reservation.” - -“Hah!” Ralph snorted. “Chief Quail’s a stuffed shirt. They made a -uranium strike on his farm last year, so what does he do?... Buys -himself a new pickup truck! I’d have celebrated by getting a Jaguar.” - -“A Jaguar is like a British Buick,” said Quiz, suddenly coming into his -element as the talk got around to cars. “A Bentley would have been -better.” - -“I know, I know,” Ralph answered. “Or a Rolls Royce if he could afford a -chauffeur. I read the ads too.” - -They followed the river, now deep in its gorge and getting considerably -wider, for another twenty miles. They were out of the reservation now -and passed a number of prosperous farms. The road remained awful, -however, being a long string of potholes filled to the brim with yellow -dust. The holes couldn’t be seen until the jeep was right on top of -them. Hall had to keep slamming on his brakes at the risk of dislocating -his passengers’ necks. - -“You should travel through this country when it rains,” he said -cheerfully. “Cars sink into the mud until all you can see is the tips of -their radio antennas.” - -“We’d get to the well before sunset if you drove as well as you tell -tall stories,” Ralph commented dryly. - -They finally made the field headquarters of the Four Corners Drilling -Company with two hours of sunlight to spare. The boys looked at the -place in disappointment. An unpainted sheet-iron shack with a sign -reading Office over its only door squatted close to the top of the San -Juan gorge. Not far from it was an odd-looking contraption of pipes, -valves and dials about as big as a home furnace. There was no sign of a -well derrick as far as they could see across deserted stretches of sand, -sagebrush, and rust-colored rock. - -“There she is—Hall Number One,” said their employer. He walked over to -the contraption, patted it as though it was his best friend, and stood, -thumbs hooked in the armholes of his worn vest, while he studied the -dials proudly. “This is my discovery well. It’s what buys the baby new -shoes.” - -“But where are the derricks and everything?” Quiz tried unsuccessfully -to keep the disappointment out of his voice. - -“Shhh!” whispered Sandy. “They’ve skidded the derrick to the new well -site. This thing’s called a Christmas tree. It controls the flow of oil -out of the ground.” - -“Smart boy,” said Hall. “We’ve got our wildcat hogtied and hooked into -this gathering line.” He pointed to a small pipe that snaked southward -across the desert. “The gathering line connects with the big new -pipeline to the West Coast that passes a few miles from here. Number One -is flowing a sweet eight hundred and fifty barrels a day.” - -“But I don’t see any other well,” Quiz persisted. - -“It’s over behind that butte.” Hall pointed again. “Oh, I know what’s -bothering you. You’re remembering those old pictures that show derricks -in an oil field standing shoulder to shoulder, like soldiers. We don’t -do things that way any longer. We’ve got plenty of room out here, so we -space our wells. Only drill enough of them to bring up the oil without -waste. Come on. I’ll take you over and introduce you to the gang.” - -A short ride brought them to a scene of whirlwind activity. Drilling had -stopped temporarily on Hall’s second well so that a worn bit could be -pulled out of the hole and replaced with a sharp one. But that didn’t -mean work had stopped! - -The boys watched, spellbound, while dripping lengths of pipe were snaked -out of the ground by a cable which ran through a block at the top of the -tall derrick and was connected to a powerful diesel engine. As every -three lengths arrived at the surface, two brawny men wielding big iron -tongs leaped forward and disconnected them from the pipe remaining in -the well. Then the 90-foot “stand” was gently maneuvered, with the help -of another man, wearing a safety belt, who stood on a platform high up -on the derrick. When a stand had been neatly propped out of the way, the -next one was ready to be pulled out of the well. - -The crew worked at top speed without saying a word until the mud-covered -drill finally came in sight. They unscrewed the bit from the end of the -last stand of pipe, and replaced it with a sharp one. Then the process -was reversed. Stand after stand of pipe was reconnected and lowered -until all were back in the well. Then the engine began to roar steadily. -A huge turntable under the derrick started spinning the pipe at high -speed. Down at the bottom of the hole the bit resumed chewing into the -rock. - -“Nice teamwork, Ralph,” said Hall. “You certainly have trained as good a -crew as can be found in the Regions.” - -“Nice team to work _with_,” answered the driller as he looked proudly at -his men, who were about equally divided between Indians and whites. “Now -let’s see if there’s any work for our two tenderfeet before it’s time to -knock off for supper. Come on, fellows. The mud pit is slurping for -you.” - -Two hours later, when the cook began hammering on his iron triangle, -Sandy and Quiz looked like mud puppies. - -“You’re a howling fright,” said the tall boy as he climbed out of the -big pit where a new batch of goo was swirling and settling. He plastered -down his unruly cowlick with a slimy hand. For once the hair stayed in -place. - -“And you look like a dirty little green man from the swamps of the -planet Venus.” Quiz spat out a bit of mud and roared with laughter. -“Lucky thing we don’t have to get this muck off with compressed air. -Come on. I’ll race you to the showers.” - -Dinner was eaten in the same dogged quiet that they had noted at the -motel. It was a good dinner, too, although it came mostly out of cans. - -The boys were introduced all around after the apple pie had been -consumed to the last crumb, but they were too tired and sleepy to sort -out names and faces. They did gather that four-man shifts—or “towers,” -as they seemed to be called—kept the drill turning day and night until -the drill struck oil or the well had to be abandoned as a “duster.” - -The only person present who made a real impression was Harry Donovan, -Hall’s geologist. He was an intense, bald, wiry fellow in his thirties -who kept biting his lips, as though he was just about to impart a deep -secret. But all he seemed to talk about were mysterious things like -electronic log readings, core analyses, and the distance still to be -drilled before something called the “Gallup Pay” would be reached. - -Hall and Salmon were intensely interested in Donovan’s report. Try as -they would to follow it, Sandy and Quiz soon found themselves nodding. -Finally they leaned their elbows on the oilcloth-covered dinner table -and snored gently. - -Ralph shook them partially awake and showed them their beds in a -battered trailer. They slept like logs despite the fact that, bathed in -brilliant white light provided by a portable electric generator, the rig -roared and clanked steadily throughout the night as its bit “made hole” -more than a thousand feet underground. - - - - - CHAPTER FOUR - Learning the Ropes - - -Sandy and Quiz spent the next two weeks picking up a working knowledge -of drilling, getting acquainted with Hall’s outfit, and learning to keep -out from under the feet of the crew. Ralph saw to it that their jobs -varied from day to day as they grew lean and brown under the desert sun. - -“Used to have a lot of trouble keeping fellows on the job out here next -to nowhere,” he explained with a grin. “The boys would get fed up after -a few weeks. Then they’d quit, head for town, and I’d have to spend -valuable time rounding up replacements. Now I switch their work around -so they don’t have so much chance to become bored. Let’s see ... you -mixed mud yesterday, didn’t you? Well, today I want you to help Jack -Boyd keep his diesel running.” Whereupon the boys would spend a “tower” -cleaning the engine room, or oiling and polishing the powerful but -over-age motor that Boyd nursed like a sick child to make it keep the -bit turning steadily. - -On other days they were assigned to drive to Shiprock or Farmington for -supplies, to help Ching Chao in the cookhouse, or to learn the abc’s of -oil geology from Donovan. Sandy preferred to do chores around the -derrick and was very proud when he finally was allowed to handle one of -the huge tongs used to grip the stands of pipe so that they could be -removed from the well or returned to it. - -Quiz, on the other hand, never tired of studying the wavering lines -marked on strips of paper by the electric log that Donovan lowered into -the well at regular intervals. He soon got so that he could identify the -different kinds of rock layers through which the bit was drilling, by -the slight changes in the shapes of those lines. Or he would train a -microscope on thin slices of sandstone sawed from the yard-long cores -that were hauled out of the well from time to time. With his usual -curiosity, he had read up enough about geology to recognize the -different marine fossils that the cores contained. He would become as -excited as Donovan did when the geologist pointed to a group of minute -shells in a slice of core and whispered, “Those are Foraminifera, boys! -We must be getting close to the oil.” And he would become as discouraged -as his teacher when careful study of another core showed no indication -of ancient sea creatures. - -“I don’t get it,” Sandy would mutter on such occasions. “How come those -shells got thousands of feet underground in the first place? And what -have they got to do with finding oil?” - -Then the geologist would mop his bald head with a bandanna handkerchief, -take off his thick horn-rimmed glasses and use them as a pointer while -he lectured the boys on his beloved science. - -“All of this country has been deep under water several times during the -last few million years,” he would explain patiently. “In fact, most of -the center of the North American continent has been submerged at one -time or another. When the Four Corners region was a sea bottom back in -the Carboniferous era, untold generations of marine plants and animals -died in the water and sank to the bottom. - -“As the ages passed, those life forms were buried by mud and silt -brought down from surrounding mountains by the raging rivers of those -days. The weight of the silt caused it to turn into sandstone or -limestone layers hundreds of feet thick. This pressure generated a great -deal of heat. Geologists think that pressure and heat compressed the -dead marine creatures into particles of oil and gas. - -“Every time the land rose to the surface and sank again, another layer -or stratum of dead fish and plants would form. All this heaving and -twisting of the earth formed traps or domes, called anticlines, into -which the oil and gas moved. That’s why we find oil today at different -depths beneath the surface.” - -“I understand that water and gas pressure keeps pushing oil toward the -surface,” Sandy said on one occasion, “but then why doesn’t it escape?” - -“Usually it gets caught under anticlines where the rock is too thick and -hard for it to move any farther,” Quiz cut in, eager to show off his new -knowledge of geology. “But it does escape in some places, Sandy. You’ve -heard of oil springs. George Washington owned one of them. And the -Indians used to sop crude petroleum from such springs with their -blankets and use it as a medicine or to waterproof their canoes. -Sometimes the springs catch fire. Some of those still exist in parts of -Iran. I read an article once which said that Jason really was looking -for a cargo of oil when he sailed the _Argo_ to the Caucasus Mountains -in search of the Golden Fleece. The fleece was just a flowery Greek term -for a burning spring, maybe.” - -“Maybe,” Donovan agreed as he stoked his pipe and sent clouds of smoke -billowing through the laboratory. “There’s also a theory that Job was an -oilman. The Bible has him saying that ‘the rock poured me forth rivers -of oil,’ you remember. If you read the Book of Job carefully, it almost -sounds as if the poor fellow’s troubles started when his oil field -caught fire. However that may be, we know that the Greeks of Jason’s -time used quite a bit of oil. The Arabs even refined petroleum and -lighted the streets of their cities with something resembling kerosene -almost a thousand years ago.” - -“Golly,” said Sandy. “It’s all too deep for me—several thousand feet too -deep. I think I’ll go help Chao get dinner ready! I _do_ know how to -cook.” - - -The one job around the derrick that the boys never got a chance to -handle was that of Peter Sanchez, the platform man who worked on their -shift, or “tower.” Whenever the time came to replace a bit, Peter would -climb to his perch halfway up the rig, snap on a safety belt, and guide -the upper ends of the ninety-foot stands of pipe into their rack. There -they would stand upright in a slimy black bunch until it was time to -return them to the well. - -Peter, who boasted that he had been an oilman for a quarter of a -century, worked effortlessly. He never lost his footing on the narrow -platform, even when the strongest wind blew. Platform men on the other -shifts were equally sure-footed—and very proud of their ability to -“walk” strings of pipe weighing several tons. And they took things easy -whenever they climbed down from their dizzy perches. - -Peter, in particular, was fond of amusing the other crew members by -telling them stories about the oil fields in the “good old days.” His -favorite character was a driller named Gib Morgan. Gib, he said, had -come down originally from the Pennsylvania regions when the first big -strikes were being made in Texas and Oklahoma, around 1900. - -“You never heard of Gib?” Peter said one night as the off-duty crews -were sitting around a roaring campfire after dinner. “Well, I’ll tell -you....” He rolled a cigarette with one hand, cowboy fashion, while -studying the young greenhorns out of the corner of his eye. “Gib was a -little feller with a big mustache but he could put Davy Crockett and -Paul Bunyan in the shade when he had a mind to. When he first came to -Texas he had a run of bad luck. Drilled almost a hundred dry holes -without hitting a single gusher. Got down to his last silver dollar. -Then do you know what he did to make a stake?” - -“No. What?” Quiz leaned forward eagerly. - -“He pulled up all those dusters, sawed ’em into four-foot lengths, and -sold ’em to the ranchers for postholes. That’s how it happens that all -the Texas ranges got fenced in with barbed wire, son.” - -When the laughter had died down and Quiz’s ears had returned to their -normal color, the platform man went on: “That wasn’t the only time that -Gib helped out his fellow man. Back around 1900, just before the big -Spindletop gusher came in, oilmen in these parts were having a lot of -trouble with whickles—you know what a whickle is, don’t you, Sandy?” - -“It’s a cross between a canary bird and a bumblebee, isn’t it?” Sandy -was dimly remembering a story that his father had told him. - -“Well! Well!” Peter looked at him with more respect. “That’s exactly -right. Pretty little varmints, whickles, but they developed a powerful -taste for crude oil. Soon as a well came in, they’d smell it from miles -away. That’s no great feat, I’ll admit, for crude oil sure has a strong -odor. Anyway, they’d descend on the well in swarms so thick that they’d -darken the sky. And they’d suck it plumb dry before you could say Jack -Robinson, unless you capped it quick. - -“Well, Gib got one of his big ideas. He went out to one of his dusters -that he hadn’t pulled up yet, poured several barrels of oil down it, and -‘salted’ the ground with more oil. Pretty soon, here came the whickles. -They lapped up all the oil on the ground. Then a big whickle, probably -the boss, rose up in the air and let out a lot of whickle talk about how -he personally had discovered the biggest oil highball on earth. After -that he dived into the well, and all the others followed him, like the -animals that went into the ark. Soon as the last one was down the hole, -Gib grabbed a big wooden plug and capped the well. We haven’t had any -whickle trouble since.” - -“Then all the poor whickles died?” Quiz rose to the bait. - -“Oh, no,” Peter answered with a straight face. “They’re still buzzing -around in that hole, mad as hops. Some day a greenhorn like you will -come along and let ’em out.” - -“Wonder what ever became of Gib,” said Donovan, between puffs on his -pipe. - -“Last I heard he was up Alaska way,” Ralph said. “Here’s a story about -him that you may want to add to your repertoire, Pete. Gib was drilling -near Moose Jaw in December when it got so cold the mercury in the -thermometer on the derrick started shivering and shaking so hard that it -knocked a hole right through the bottom of the tube. During January it -got colder yet and the joints on the drill pipe froze so they couldn’t -be unscrewed. - -“Now Gib had a bet he could finish that well in four months and he -wasn’t going to let Jack Frost faze him. He just rigged up a pile driver -that drove that frozen pipe on down into the ground as pretty as you -please. Soon as one stand of pipe was down, the crew would weld on -another and keep driving. Course the pipe got compressed a lot from all -that hammering, but Gib couldn’t see any harm in that. - -“Time February came around it got real chilly—a hundred or so below -zero. He was using a steam engine by that time because the diesel fuel -was frozen solid, but no sooner would the smoke from the fire box come -out of the chimney than it would freeze and fall back on the snow. -Wading through that black stuff was like pushing through cotton wool, -and besides, the men tracked it all over the clean bunkhouse floor. So -Gib had to get out a bulldozer and shove it into one corner of the -clearing where he had his rig set up. - -“They were down about four miles on March 15 when an early spring thaw -set in. First thing that happened was that the smoke melted and spread -all over the place. Couldn’t see your nose on your face. Fire wardens -came from miles around thinking the forest was ablaze. Gib was in a -tight spot so he did something he had never done before—he looked up his -hated rival, Bill McGee, who was in the Yukon selling some refrigerators -to the Eskimos. He had to give skinflint McGee a half interest in the -well to get him to help out. McGee just borrowed those refrigerators, -stuffed the smoke into them, and refroze it. - -“No sooner was the smoke under control than all that compressed drill -pipe down the well started to thaw out. It began shooting out of the -hole like a released coil spring. First it humped up under the derrick -and pushed it a hundred feet into the air. Then it toppled over and -squirmed about the clearing like a boa constrictor. - -“That was where Bill McGee made his big mistake. Gib had told him the -drill bit, which had been dragged out of the well by the thrashing pipe, -had cuttings on it which showed there was good oil sand only a few feet -farther down. But Bill figured that with the derrick a wreck, the well -was a frost. So he sold his half interest back to Gib, who didn’t -object, for a plug of good chewing tobacco. - -“Soon as McGee was out of sight, Gib headed for the nearest U.S. Assay -Office. He got the clerk to lend him about a quart of the mercury that -assay men use to test the purity of gold nuggets. - -“Morgan went back to camp, sat down beside the derrick, lit his pipe and -waited for the freeze-up which he knew was bound to come before spring -actually set in. It came all right! Puffing his pipe to keep warm Gib -watched the new alcohol thermometer he had bought in town go down, down, -and down until it hit a hundred and ten below. Right then he dropped his -quart of solidified mercury into the well. - -“Just as he figured, it acted the way the mercury in the old thermometer -had done—went right to the bottom and banged and banged trying to escape -from that awful cold. Yes, sir, that hunk of mercury smashed right -through to the oil sand. Pretty soon there was a rumble and a roar. Up -came a thick black column of oil.” - -“Wait a minute,” cried Sandy, thinking he had caught the storyteller out -on a limb. “Why didn’t the oil freeze too?” - -“It did, Sandy. It did,” Ralph answered blandly. “Soon as it hit the -air, it froze solid. But it was slippery enough so it kept sliding out -of the ground a foot at a time. Gib got his men together and, until -spring really came, they kept busy sawing hunks off that gusher and -shipping them out to the States on flatcars!” - -“You win, Ralph,” sighed the platform man as he heaved himself to his -feet. “I can’t even attempt to top that tall one, so I guess I’d better -go to bed. Your story should keep us cool out here for at least a week.” - - -After that mild hazing session, Sandy and Quiz found themselves accepted -as full-fledged members of the gang. The crew members, who had kept -their distance up to that point, now treated them like equals. Each boy -soon was doing a man’s work around the rig and glorying in his hardening -muscles. - -As the end of June approached, Hall, Donovan and Salmon got ready for -their monthly trip to Window Rock, Arizona, to submit bids for several -leases in the Navajo reservation. - -“There’s room in the jeep, so you might as well go along and learn -something more about the oil business,” Hall told the boys. “I’m pretty -sure our bids won’t be accepted, but the only thing we can do is try.” - -At that point trouble descended on the camp in the form of a Bonanza -bearing Red Cavanaugh and Pepper March. - -The husky electronics man clambered out of his machine and came forward -at a lope. He was dressed only in shorts, and the thick red hair on his -brawny chest glinted in the sunlight. Pepper trotted behind him like an -adoring puppy. - -“Howdy, Mr. Hall. Howdy, Donovan,” Cavanaugh boomed as he reached the -rig. “Heard you’d been exploring down in the Hopi butte section. Thought -I’d bounce over and sell you some equipment that has seismographs, -magnetometers and gravimeters beat three ways from Sunday. The very -latest thing. You can’t get along without it.” - -“Can’t I?” said Donovan mildly. - -“Of course you can’t!” Cavanaugh clapped the little man on the back so -hard that he almost dislodged Donovan’s glasses. “This is terrific! The -biggest thing that’s happened to me since I ran those three touchdowns -for State back in 1930. I developed it in my own lab. You know how a -Geiger counter works...?” - -“Well, faintly,” answered the geologist, who had three of them in his -own laboratory. “I wasn’t born yesterday, _Mr._ Cavanaugh.” - -“Well, don’t get sore, _Mr._ Donovan.” Cavanaugh bellowed with laughter. -“All I wanted to say was that my new device uses scintillation counters, -which are—” - -“—a thousand times more sensitive to atomic radiation than Geiger -counters,” Donovan interrupted. “And you’re going on to tell me that you -can take your doodlebug up in an airplane and spot a radiation halo -surrounding any oil deposit. Right? I read the trade papers, too, you -know. May I ask you a question?” - -“Why, of course.” Cavanaugh’s chest and neck had begun to sweat. - -“Do you have a Ph.D. degree in electronic engineering?” - -“Why, uh, naturally.” - -“Well, I don’t, unfortunately, Mr. Cavanaugh. But I know enough about -the science to understand that the gadget you are selling isn’t worth a -plugged nickel unless it’s operated by an expert, and unless it’s used -in connection with other methods of exploration. I have told you several -times at Farmington that this outfit can’t afford another scientist at -present, so I wish you would please go away.” - -“Now, Mr. Hall—” Cavanaugh turned to the grinning oilman—“can’t you make -your man listen to reason?” - -“He’s not my man. He’s my partner,” Hall answered mildly. “What he says -goes. Now, if you and your, ah, man will have a bite of lunch with us, -I’d be mighty pleased, providing you stop this high-pressure -salesmanship.” - -“Well ...” Cavanaugh seemed on the verge of an explosion. “Well, thanks -for your invitation, but Mr. March and I are due up at Cortez in half an -hour. We’re delivering several of my gadgets, as you call them, to smart -oilmen. Come on, Pepper.” - -“John,” said Donovan after they had watched Cavanaugh’s plane roar away, -“I think I’ll have to sock that big lug the next time I meet him.” - -“He’d make mincemeat of you,” Mr. Hall warned. - -“I doubt it. He’s soft as mush. Anyway, I don’t like him and I’ll have -nothing to do with the equipment he peddles. He knows that, so I think -the real reason he came here was to spy on us—to find out whether our -well had come in yet.” - -“Oh, he’s not that bad,” Hall objected. “Boys, you know something about -him. What’s his reputation in Valley View?” - -“He acts rich,” Sandy answered after a moment of deep thought. - -“The people who work in his lab say he’s not as smart as he makes out,” -Quiz added. “I agree with Mr. Donovan. There’s something phony about -him. I’ve a hunch it’s connected with those three touchdowns he’s always -bragging about. If I could only remember.... Some day I will, I bet.” - -“Well, let’s all simmer down and forget him,” said Hall. “It’s time for -lunch.” - - - - - CHAPTER FIVE - A Light in the Window Rock - - -The morning after Cavanaugh’s unwelcome visit, Hall, Donovan, Salmon and -the boys set out on their 150-mile drive south to the town of Window -Rock. The jeep wallowed and bounced as usual over the dusty trail to -Shiprock. There Ralph turned right onto US 666, pushed the accelerator -toward the floor board and relaxed. - -“We don’t have a Bonanza, boss,” he said, “but a loaded jeep on a good -paved road is the next best thing.” - -“I’d prefer a helicopter, equipped with a supercharger that could lift -it over the ranges,” Hall answered. “Maybe, if Number Two comes in, we -can buy a whirlybird, along with a portable drill rig truck.” - -“A portable rig sure would come in handy for drilling test wells,” Ralph -agreed. “Maybe we could make it come true by putting an offering on that -Navajo wishing pile.” He nodded toward a mound of small brightly colored -stones that stood where an Indian trail crossed the highway. - -“Nuh uh,” the oilman said sharply. “And don’t _you_ ever try that stunt, -boys. The Navajos don’t want white men thinning out their luck by -putting things on their wishing piles. By the same token, never take any -object from the piles that you will see scattered through the -reservation. If you’re caught doing that, you’ll be in for real -trouble.” - -“Yep. The braves will get mad as wet hens,” Salmon said, chuckling. - -“Ralph,” said Quiz, “why do you poke fun at the Navajos?” - -“Well, pardner, did you ever hear a UCLA man say anything good about the -Stanford football team?” - -“Oh, but that’s different. It’s just school rivalry,” Sandy objected as -he crossed his long legs the other way in an effort to keep his knees -from banging against the dash. - -“Well, you might say that the Navajos and Utes have been traditional -rivals since the beginning of time. Nothing very serious, you -understand. We’ve raided each other’s cattle, and taken a few scalps now -and then, when a Navajo stepped on a Ute’s shadow, or vice versa. The -Navajos are Athapascans, you see. They’re related to the Apaches, and -think they’re the lords of creation. But Utes are Shoshoneans. We belong -to one of the biggest Indian ‘families’ in North America. The state of -Utah is named in our honor and there are Shoshones living as far north -as Alaska. Maybe you’ve heard of Sacagawea, the Shoshone ‘Bird Woman,’ -who guided the Lewis and Clark Expedition all the way to the Pacific -Coast. - -“The Hopis are our brothers, and the Piutes are our poor relations. The -Piutes _did_ eat fried caterpillars and roots in the old days, I guess, -but that was only because they lived out in the western Utah desert -where there wasn’t much else to eat. We southern Utes lived mostly on -buffalo meat. We were great hunters. Our braves would creep right into -the middle of a herd of buffalo and kill as many as they wanted with -their long knives, without causing the animals to take fright and -stampede.” - -“How could they do that?” Sandy asked. - -“When they went on a hunt, they dressed in buffalo hides, and made -themselves smell like, walk like and even think like buffalo. The -animals didn’t believe they were men.” - -“Can you still do that—think like a buffalo, I mean?” Quiz gasped. - -“Oh, sure. Just find me a herd of wild ones and I’ll prove it.” - -“Ralph’s talents sure are being wasted on drilling for oil,” Donovan -said, knocking out his pipe against the jeep’s side for emphasis. - -“All very amusing,” Hall grunted. “But crooked white men have taken -advantage of your sporting rivalry with the Navajo to rob both of you -blind during the past century. The same thing will happen again, I warn -you, if you don’t stop playing Indian and begin working at it.” - -“Yes, boss,” Ralph agreed shamefacedly. “You’re absolutely right. But—I -forget everything you’ve said when that Quail character starts getting -under my buffalo hide!” - -The car whined merrily down the road past the little towns of Newcomb -and Tohatchi while Ralph sulked and Hall and Donovan talked shop which -the boys couldn’t understand. They turned left on Route 68 in the middle -of the hot afternoon, crossed the line from New Mexico into Arizona, and -a few minutes later pulled into Window Rock. - -The town, made up mostly of low, well-kept adobe and stone buildings, -lay in a little valley almost surrounded by red sandstone cliffs. It had -received its name, obviously, from one huge cliff that had a round hole -in it big enough to fly a plane through. One of its largest buildings -was occupied by the Indian Service. Another, built like a gigantic -hogan, was the Navajo Tribal Council, Hall told the boys. They passed a -brand-new hospital and a school and pulled up at a motel where a large -number of Cadillacs and less imposing vehicles were parked. - -“Looks as if everybody in the Southwest had come to bid on or sell -equipment,” said Mr. Hall as he studied the array of cars and trucks. -Some of the latter bore the names of well-known companies such as Gulf, -Continental, Skelly and Schlumberger. Others belonged to smaller oil and -uranium firms that Sandy had never heard of. - -“Donovan, Ralph, and I had better go in and chew the rag with them -awhile,” the oilman continued. “Why don’t you fellows look the town over -until it’s time for dinner? You’d just get bored sitting around.” - -The boys were drifting over toward the Council Hall for a better look at -the many Navajos in stiff black hats and colorful shirts who clustered -around its doorway when they heard a familiar shout. - -“Wait up!” Pepper March dashed across the dusty street and pounded them -on their backs as if they were his best friends. “Gee, it’s good to see -a white man you know.” - -“You saw us only yesterday,” Sandy pointed out rather coldly. - -“Oh, but that was business. Come on. I’ll buy a Coke. What have you been -up to? How do you like working for an old crank? What’s biting Hall’s -geologist? Boy, isn’t it hot? Did you know that I’m learning to fly -Red’s Bonanza? How’s your well coming along?” - -“Whoa!” cried Quiz. “Relax! We’ve been working like sin. We like Mr. -Hall. His geologist is going to bite your Mr. Cavanaugh pretty soon, I’m -thinking. It is exactly 110 degrees in the shade. We did not know you -were learning to fly a plane. And the situation at the well is strictly -our own affair.” - -“Uh—” said Pepper, “you’re not sore about what happened yesterday, are -you? Red was only trying to make a sale.” - -“Nope. We’re not sore,” Sandy answered. “But we’re beginning to take a -dim view of your boss.” - -“Why, Red’s the grandest guy you ever met. Do you know what he’s got me -doing?” - -“There you go again, asking personal questions,” said Quiz. - -“I’m helping him set up a string of light beam transceivers that will -keep his camps here and at Shiprock in constant communication with his -agent down at Gallup.” - -“What on earth for?” Sandy almost choked on his Coke in amazement. -“What’s the matter with the telephone, telegraph and short-wave radio -stations that are scattered all over this territory? And how come -Cavanaugh has to have a permanent camp at Window Rock, and an agent in -Gallup?” - -“Now who’s asking the questions?” Pepper said smugly. “Have another -Coke?” - -“No, but we’ll buy you one,” Quiz replied, and added with a wink at his -pal, “It must be quite a job, setting up one of your stations.” - -“Sure is!” The blond boy expanded at this implied praise. “It’s never -been done before over such long distances, Red says. You have to focus -the beam perfectly, or it’s no good. But, after you do that, nobody can -eavesdrop on you unless....” He stopped short, and jumped off the diner -stool as though it had suddenly become hot. “Well, so long, fellows. -I’ve got to be getting back to camp. See you around.” And he departed as -abruptly as he had come. - -“Now what kind of business was that?” Sandy asked as he paid the entire -bill. - -“Monkey business, I guess,” Quiz answered. “I think Mr. Hall ought to -know about those stations, and maybe Mr. White, the Indian Agent, should -be told too.” He kicked at the dust thoughtfully as they walked slowly -down Window Rock’s main street. - -“Hmmm. You have to get a license from the government to operate a -short-wave station,” said Sandy. “But I don’t suppose you need one yet -for a light-beam job. Now, just supposing that Cavanaugh wanted to—” - -“Wanted to what?” - -“That’s what I don’t know. But I sure would like to find out. Let’s be -getting back to the motel.” - -They found themselves in the middle of a tense scene when they entered -the motel patio. Twenty or thirty oil and uranium men were gathered -there, their chairs propped comfortably against the adobe walls, while -they listened to Cavanaugh and Donovan argue the merits of the big man’s -electronic explorer. - -“You all know, my friends, that uranium ore can be, and has been, found -with a one-tube Geiger,” Red was booming. “But that’s like throwing a -lucky pass in a football game. To win the game, you need power in the -line—power that will let your ball carrier cross the line again, and -again, and again, the way I became an All-American by scoring those -three touchdowns against California back in 1930.” - -“Oh, no!” Quiz whispered as he and Sandy founds seats in a far corner. -“This is where we came in last time.” - -“In searching for oil, or even for uranium under a heavy overburden of -rock,” Cavanaugh went on, “you need at least the simplest scintillation -counter because it is sixty times as sensitive as a one-tube Geiger. -Better yet is the really professional counter—as much as 600 times more -sensitive than the best Geiger built. Best of all is my multiple -scintillator—100 times more sensitive than the best single tube. Even -you won’t disagree with that, will you, _Mr._ Donovan?” - -“Not at all,” answered the bald man after several furious puffs on his -pipe. “I only say that, in addition to the best possible electronic -instrument, you need an operator who thoroughly understands radiation -equipment. Also, you should have a crew of geologists and geophysicists -who know how to balance radiation findings against those established by -other methods.” - -“Nonsense,” shouted the ex-football player. “Many of my customers have -located oil-containing faults and stratigraphic traps with my detector -where all other instruments had failed. You’re just old-fashioned.” - -“Maybe I am,” said Donovan, “and then maybe I just don’t like to have -wool pulled over my eyes, or the eyes of men I consider to be my -friends.” - -“I’m not pulling wool. Halos or circles of radiation can be detected on -the surface of the earth around the edges of every oil deposit. That’s a -proven fact.” Cavanaugh pounded on the arm of his chair with a fist as -big as a ham. - -“Is it?” Donovan asked gently. “Jakosky, who is an authority on -exploration geophysics, says, and I quote his exact words: ‘Atomic -exploration is still in its infancy.’ Let me tell you a story: - -“Back in the early days of the oil business, a number of people made -fortunes by charging big fees to locate petroleum deposits with the help -of split willow wands. They’d walk around with the split ends of the -wands between their hands until, they said, some mysterious force pulled -the big end downward until it pointed to oil. A man who helped Colonel -Drake promote his original oil well at Titusville, Pennsylvania, back in -1859, actually located several profitable fields with the ‘help’ of a -spiritualist medium.” - -“He could hardly have failed,” one of the onlookers spoke up. “In those -days, oil was literally bursting out of the ground along many -Pennsylvania creek beds.” - -“That’s right, Tom,” Donovan agreed. “Oil was everywhere, so those -dowsers, or ‘creekologists’ as they often were called, did very well -until the search for oil moved west where deposits were scarcer and much -deeper underground. - -“Around 1913, geologists had to be called in to do the exploration. -They’ve been responsible for finding practically all the fields -discovered since then. But the creekologists didn’t give up easily. They -built pseudo-scientific gadgets called doodlebugs and equipped them with -lots of fancy dials and flashing lights. One doodlebug even had a -phonograph in it. As it was carried across a field, a ghostly voice -would be heard saying, ‘Your sainted Aunt Minnie bids me tell you to -drill right here and you will bring in a second Spindletop.’” - -“You can’t call me a crook!” Cavanaugh, his face scarlet with rage, -lunged to his feet and advanced on his tormentor. - -“I’m not calling you a crook—yet.” Donovan stood up too, knocked out his -pipe and put it into his pants pocket. “If you would just stop making -all of those wild-eyed claims for your detector, though, you would make -out better out here.” - -As Cavanaugh continued to advance he added mildly, “I suppose I ought to -warn you that I studied judo when I was in college.” - -“Excuse me for interrupting your fun, gentlemen,” a quiet voice broke -in. “Is there anyone here named Quincy Taylor? An urgent telegram for -him was just relayed down from Farmington.” Kenneth White, the Indian -Agent, stood in the motel doorway holding a yellow envelope. - -Nobody answered for a moment, but Cavanaugh took the opportunity to -stomp out of the room while Donovan sat down quietly and started stoking -his pipe. - -“Hey, Quiz!” Sandy exploded at last. “Don’t you recognize your own name? -It’s for you!” - -His friend blushed with embarrassment as he accepted the wire, but his -round face turned pale as he read it. - -“Mr. Hall,” he choked at last. “It’s from Dad. He slipped and broke his -leg in two places. I’m to come home immediately and run the restaurant -while he’s laid up. Gee whiz!” He bit his lips to keep back the tears. - -“That’s tough, Quiz.” The oilman came over and slipped a fatherly arm -around the boy’s shoulders. “Your father will be all right soon, I’m -sure, but we certainly will miss you up at the well. Now the problem is -to get you back to Farmington quick so you can catch the midnight bus. -I’ll send your things on, soon as we get back.” - -“One of my trucks is returning to Farmington after supper,” spoke up the -oilman named Tom. “You can go in that.” - -“Thanks,” gulped Quiz. - -The ban about talking at mealtime was broken that night. All the oil and -uranium men were agreed that Cavanaugh was a bad-mannered blusterer, but -they differed sharply about the value of his electronic detector. - -“He has made several good uranium strikes with the thing,” a bearded -prospector insisted, “though what good they’re going to do him I can’t -imagine, with the government not buying except from established mills. -But don’t sell Red Cavanaugh short. He has made millions out of -electronics, they say. He knows electronics. He’s a smart operator. You -keep an eye on the bids he makes tomorrow and you’ll see what I mean.” - -“Well, I’m not throwing my seismograph away for a while yet,” Tom -retorted. “I’ll put my money on Don’s opinion any day.” - -The boys tried to follow the conversation, but Quiz’s heart was not in -it, and he only picked at his food. Finally he excused himself and -headed for the dining-room door with Sandy after him. - -“It’s a tough break,” he said half an hour later while he and his pal -stood at the edge of town and stared upward at that amazing natural -bridge called the Window Rock. - -“It sure is,” Sandy agreed glumly. “Maybe you can come back, though.” - -“Not a chance. Dad will be laid up most of the summer, and he can’t -afford to hire a manager, the way things are. There’s nothing I can— -Hey! Look!” He grabbed Sandy’s arm and pointed. “See that point of light -twinkling ’way up on top of the Window Rock? That isn’t a star, is it?” - -“Nuh-uh!” Sandy watched the faint flicker a thousand feet above them. -“That must be where Cavanaugh has pitched his camp. He’s sending a -message of some kind over light beam. If it were a heliograph -transmitting in Morse code I could read it. But that’s a modulated -beam.... Say, we’d better be moseying back to the motel. Must be about -time for your truck to leave.” - -“Sandy,” Quiz said half an hour later after they had shaken hands -solemnly, “I’m going to do everything I can, when I get home, to do some -detective work on Cavanaugh. If anything turns up, I’ll let you know -quick.” - -“Do that, Quiz.” Sandy swallowed and his voice broke. “Be seeing you.” - -Quiz climbed slowly into the cab of the big tool truck. As it roared off -into the starlit desert night he kept waving a forlorn farewell. - - - - - CHAPTER SIX - Cliff Dweller Country - - -Sandy had expected that the opening of bids for leases on thousands of -acres in the Navajo reservation would be an exciting occasion, something -like a country auction. Instead, he found it a great bore. - -Scores of bidders in their shirt sleeves lounged on hard straight-backed -chairs in the stuffy meeting room of the Indian Service building, or -chatted, smoked and told jokes in the corridors. Kenneth White and other -representatives of the Indian Service sat behind a long redwood table, -opened piles of envelopes, compared bids, held long whispered -conferences with grave, leather-faced members of the Navajo Council and -their advisers, and very occasionally handed down decisions. - -“The bid of $3,900 per acre made for 200 Navajo acres in San Juan -County, northeast, southeast of Section 27-24 N-8 is accepted,” White -then would drone. Or: “A bid of $318 per acre for 125 acres of Section -18, 42 north, 30 east is rejected by the Council because it’s too low. -Another bid may be made at the August meeting, if desired.” - -After an hour of this, Sandy was counting the cracks in the floor, -watching flies buzzing against the windowpanes, and wondering whether he -dared ask Mr. Hall to be excused. He hesitated about doing this because -the oilman was following the bidding with tense interest and making -endless notes on the backs of old envelopes that he kept dragging out of -his vest pockets. - -“Ssst!” Ralph whispered from the seat behind him. “This is murder. How -about having a second breakfast with me? - -“We never should have come down here this month when our well needs -watching every minute,” the young Indian added after they had entered a -nearly empty diner and ordered ham and eggs which neither of them really -wanted. “The big companies have the big money, so they’ll gobble up the -best of the acreage, as usual. We poor boys will get some small tracts, -if we’re lucky. And I don’t think John Hall’s outfit is going to be -lucky today.” - -“Why is that?” Sandy asked. - -“Because most of our bids are for land that’s under dispute between the -Navajos and Hopis. They can’t be accepted until some sort of settlement -is reached between the tribes. I don’t know why John keeps putting them -in. Well—” Ralph finished his coffee and slid off the stool and onto his -feet in one motion, like a big cat—“let’s go back and learn the worst.” - -There was a strange tenseness in the meeting room when they entered. -Cavanaugh and White were standing facing each other across the table. -All eyes were riveted on them and not a sound was being made by the -onlookers. - -“Mr. Cavanaugh,” the Indian Agent was saying, “neither the Service nor -the Council can understand the meaning of the bids you have submitted. -Some of them are for small tracts around the Pinta Dome area in Apache -country where there has never been the slightest show of uranium-bearing -ore. I don’t want to tell you your business, but....” - -“Thank you for that, Mr. White,” the redhaired giant growled. “Let the -bids stand.” - -“Very well. They are accepted. But this other bid—for a thousand acres -in the bed of the San Juan River. You must have made an error. It is -submitted directly to the United States government, instead of to the -Navajo Council. Do you wish to correct it?” - -“I do not,” snapped Cavanaugh. - -“But it cannot be accepted, since the stream is not navigable.” - -“I challenge that statement, Mr. White. Under the law it cannot be -rejected until the stream is _proved_ not to be navigable. If you won’t -accept it, let it stand as a prior claim. Is there anything else?” - -“Nothing else whatsoever,” White answered mildly, but between stiff -lips. - -“That suits me fine.” Cavanaugh lit a long black cigar in defiance of a -NO SMOKING sign, and strutted out. All heads turned to watch him go and -a buzz of conversation started. - -“Wheeuw!” Ralph said in Sandy’s ear. “That Pinta Dome area had a big -helium strike some years back. Wells in that region are all closed in -now, and the government is very hush-hush about the whole thing. What’s -Cavanaugh up to?” - -White picked up another bunch of bids and called Hall to the table. - -“You know, John, that bids on land in the disputed Navajo-Hopi area -can’t be accepted. I’ve told you so again and again. So has Chairman -Paul Jones of the Navajo Council. Why do you keep submitting them?” - -“Because I’m a stubborn man, Ken.” Hall grinned, tilting his gray head -as he always did when he was being stubborn. “And because I think -there’s oil under those lands. And because I also think the tribes will -get together soon. You just let my bids stand and tell me where I can -locate Jones.” - -“Hosteen Sandez, do you know where Mr. Jones is today?” White asked a -lean old Indian who sat next to him. - -“Gone to Chinle,” was the reply. “Two families there having dispute—with -shotguns—about irrigation water. He trying to settle it before Navajo -police come.” - -“Thank you,” said Hall. “I think we’ll just mosey on up Chinle way.” - - -The jeep followed a good paved road as far west as Ganado, but when it -turned north toward Chinle it got back once more on a trail made of -stones from which none of the corners had been removed. They were -driving through a wild country of mesas, washes and canyons which made -conversation almost impossible. - -“What do you expect to gain by talking to Jones, John?” Donovan asked -once when the road became smoother for a few miles. - -“I’ve been reading so much about summit conferences,” Hall answered, -“that it just occurred to me we might set one up out here. I want to -suggest to Jones that we get some of the more important chiefs of the -two tribes to meet out here in the desert somewhere, where there are no -reporters or members of the Land Resources Association hanging around. -I’ll bet we could accomplish something.” - -“Good idea,” Donovan agreed. “If the tribes weren’t continually stirred -up by white men with axes to grind they’d soon be able to agree on that -boundary line.” - -“Don’t mind me, palefaces,” said Ralph as he spun the wheel to avoid a -particularly hard-looking stone. “But I doubt it. I know both tribes, -and....” - -Crash! The jeep bucked like a pinto pony and the motor roared. - -“There goes the second muffler in three months,” Ralph shouted, pointing -backward to a heap of junk on the trail. - -After that, all conversation was impossible until they pulled into the -little town of Chinle—and learned at the trading post that Jones had -already departed for Tuba City! - -“Say, John,” Ralph said, as they were standing around waiting for a -“shade tree mechanic” to dig a muffler that would fit out of a rusty -pile of spare parts that leaned against his hogan, “we can’t possibly -drive back to the well tonight. Why don’t we put up at the Canyon de -Chelly camp so I can show Sandy where his great-uncle fit the Navajos?” - -“Good idea,” said his employer. “You’ll have time to show Sandy the -cliff dwellings tomorrow, too. Chief Quail lives over in the Canyon de -Chelly neighborhood. I want to sound him out on my idea for a summit -conference.” - -The sun was sinking in golden glory behind thousand-foot-high red -sandstone buttes when they drove up to the Thunderbird guest ranch at -the entrance of the Canyon de Chelly National Monument area. There they -obtained two pleasant double rooms furnished after the rugged style of -the Old West. When they had showered most of the dust off themselves, -they gathered for a fine meal in the timbered mess hall. Then, in the -cool of the mountain evening, they went over to a big campfire where a -National Park Service Ranger was lecturing to a group of tourists. - -“These canyons housed one of the great centers of the Anasazi, or Basket -Maker, civilization,” the Ranger was explaining. “During the first -several centuries of what we call the Christian era, Basket Makers -occupied the whole drainage basin of the San Juan River. In addition to -baskets, they made fine pottery and woven sandals, but they used dart -throwers instead of the later bows and arrows. They built peculiar -circular homes with floors sunk a foot or more into the ground. You’ll -see one of those tomorrow when you visit Mummy Cave. - -“When the Basket Makers vanished early in the eighth century, Pueblo -Indians occupied the canyons. They built many-storied cliff dwellings -over the old caves. They were farmers, but they also made beautiful -pottery, cloth, stone tools, and ornaments of copper and gold. - -“Coronado, the Spanish Conquistador, may have been looking for this -place when he came up from Mexico in 1540 to search for the fabulous -riches of El Dorado and the Seven Cities of Cibola. He never found -anything but thirst and death.” - -“Were the Pueblos and Basket Makers related?” someone asked. - -“Yes, they were both Shoshones, like the modern Hopis,” answered the -Ranger as he threw more wood on the fire. - -“More distinguished ancestors for us Utes,” Ralph whispered to Sandy. - -“Seven or eight centuries ago,” the Ranger went on, “the Pueblos grouped -their cliff dwellings into large ‘apartment houses’ situated on sites -that could easily be defended. Tomorrow you’ll visit White House, -Antelope House, and Standing Cow, which are their finest structures. Let -me warn you, though, that only people accustomed to conditions in the -canyons should drive cars into them. The spring rains are late this -year. There is very grave danger from flash floods and quicksand. In -past years, many covered wagons and other vehicles drove into the -canyons, got caught in a sudden storm, and were never found. I suggest -you rent a car and guide from the Thunderbird Ranch operator.” - -“What became of the Pueblos?” a tourist asked in an awed voice. - -“Nobody knows. Some people think a great drought hit this part of the -country and they had to move to an area where there was more rainfall. -Others believe that an enemy—possibly the fierce Aztecs—came up from -Mexico and killed all the inhabitants. Terrible battles were fought -here, we know, before the end. Sometimes Pueblo mummies with weapons -still in their hands are found when a new cliff dwelling is explored. -The Navajos say the whole place was deserted when they moved in, more -than 200 years ago. Now, I want to tell you about the troubles that -_they_ had with the Spaniards and Kit Carson.” - -“We’d better go to bed, I think,” Hall said to the others in his group. -“Ralph knows a lot more about recent history than this fellow does. -He’ll tell you all about it in the morning.” - - -Sandy and Ralph crawled out of their bunks shortly after sunrise, but -they found that Hall had already departed. A note under their door read: - -“Have located Chief Quail. Don and I have him cornered and are trying to -talk him over to our side. You can use the jeep to explore the canyons -this morning but be back by lunchtime, so we can hunt for Hopi Chief -Ponytooth. He’s up in this neighborhood, Chief Quail says. Happy -cliff-hanging.” - -After a brief argument with the Ranger, who repeated his warnings about -flash floods and quicksand, Sandy and Ralph got under way. - -“I know this territory like the palm of my hand,” the driller said as he -drove carefully into dark gorges where the sun shone only around noon. -“There really are four separate canyons, you’ll notice. From right to -left they’re Monument Canyon, the Canyon de Chelly proper, Black Rock, -and the famous Canyon del Muerto, which means Death Canyon. That’s the -one where the Navajos made their last stand against Kit Carson.” - -“How did he ever drive them out of a place like this?” Sandy marveled as -he stared up at towering cliffs that rose almost straight up from the -grass-covered canyon floor. “One man on a cliff should have been able to -stand off a regiment by rolling rocks down on their heads.” - -“That’s where your great-uncle was smarter than General Custer,” -answered his guide. “He didn’t try to attack. If he had, the Navajos -would have massacred his troops. Instead, Kit sent small raiding parties -of cavalrymen down the centers of the canyons where they were fairly -safe from rocks and arrows. They had orders to shoot every sheep, goat -and cow in sight. After they did that, they retreated and blocked all -exits to the canyons.” - -“And the braves and their families just stayed inside and starved?” -Sandy was really shocked. - -“What else could they do? See that big blue-and-white picture of a cow -drawn on the canyon wall over the cliff dwelling to your left? That’s a -sort of monument which the poor old Navajos made to remind them of their -slaughtered herds. After they finished it, they all came out and -surrendered.” - -“Gee whiz!” was all that Sandy could think of to say. - -“We have time to explore just one cliff house,” Ralph continued. “It -might as well be Standing Cow. Come on.” - -They climbed a swaying ladder to reach one of the dwellings. This had -been restored by archaeologists and looked as though its Indian -inhabitants had departed the night before, instead of a long 400 years -ago. There was the loom on which they had woven their cloth. Graceful -pottery with decorations in glaze was stacked in a corner. A bedboard -rested on two timbers cemented into the rear wall. - -“These were de luxe apartments, probably occupied by the chief,” Ralph -explained. “They have one big drawback—no hallways. You have to go -through the living quarters to get to the other rooms. Come back here -and I’ll show you one of their kivas, or ceremonial rooms.” - -He led the way into a much larger cave that had a balcony overlooking a -round hole some twenty feet across by six feet deep. Light filtered into -the gloomy place through one small window in the cliff face. - -The driller turned a flashlight beam into the hole. Sandy saw that its -bottom could be reached by steep stone stairways. A wide bench ran -around the sides of this strange pit. In its center stood several stone -tanks about the size of bathtubs. - -“When the cliff dwellers wanted to talk to their gods,” said Ralph, -“they climbed down into a kiva hole like this and stayed for days -without eating, drinking or sleeping. They practiced a kind of -self-hypnotism, I guess.” - -“Maybe,” Sandy guessed, “they just went down there to take their -Saturday-night baths. I don’t see any gods—idols, I mean.” - -“These people didn’t have idols—just those tub things,” Ralph answered. -For a long time he stood staring down into the kiva, as though he were -trying to picture his dead-and-forgotten ancestors there, conducting -their silent worship. “We’d better be getting back to the ranch,” he -said at last, shaking his handsome head as though to clear it of dreams. - -“That was a pretty grim thing Carson did to the Indians,” Sandy said as -they drove back to Thunderbird. - -“It was better than a massacre. Only twenty or so Navajos were actually -killed by his troops, remember. And you should not forget, either, that -Kit was acting under orders from Washington.” - -“Those Nazi officers who killed innocent people in German concentration -camps said they were acting under orders too,” Sandy pointed out grimly. - -“Oh, but Carson never tried to excuse his actions. At first, he thought -he was doing the right thing to move the tribe onto a fine new -reservation. But as soon as he had herded several thousand of them over -to Bosque Redondo on the Pecos River, he changed his mind. Bosque -Redondo means Round Forest in Spanish, but he found there weren’t more -than half a dozen trees on the whole place, while good grazing grass was -almost as rare. It was a hellhole and the Navajos hated it. They ran -away or, if they weren’t able to do that, they just sat down and pined. -A thousand of them died there from hunger and homesickness. - -“So Carson climbed on a train, went to Washington, and told the Great -White Father just what was happening. When he warned that all the -Navajos at Bosque Redondo would be dead in a few years, nobody seemed to -mind very much. ‘Good Indian: dead Indian,’ you know. When he added that -the government was spending a million dollars a year just to help them -die, a few ears pricked up. But when he said that half the Navajos had -never left Arizona and that they were threatening to go on the warpath -to help their imprisoned brothers, Carson got action. He was ordered to -return the tribe to its original reservation—this one—and was given -money to help them get a new start.” - -“I’d like to tell Miss Gonzales what you just told me,” said Sandy. “I -don’t want her to dislike me because she thinks my great-uncle was a -monster.” - -“Well, why don’t you? Her school trailer is located only about twenty -miles from our well. Drop in on her when you get a day off.” - -“Gee, I’d like to, Ralph,” said Sandy as they approached the ranch gate -where Hall, Donovan and Chief Quail were waiting for them, “but she -seemed pretty angry that night at the motel.” - -“Kitty’s a fine girl,” Ralph answered slowly, “even though she tries to -be more Navajo than the Navajos. Fact is, I’ll let you in on a secret: -My last oil royalty check from the wells in the Southern Ute reservation -amounted to $12,000. When I get a few more of them in my bank account, -so I can give her a big marriage gift, I’m going to ask my uncle to ask -_her_ uncle if she’ll have me for a husband.” - -“What have uncles got to do with marriage?” Sandy stared at Ralph in -amazement, realizing for the first time that he really was an Indian and -had ways of doing things that were hard to understand. - -“It’s just an old Navajo custom.” Ralph grinned uncomfortably. “And that -reminds me: If Kitty gets uppity about Carson again, you tell her I said -to be nice or I’ll ask my great-uncle to step on her great-uncle’s -shadow. That will make her behave!” - - - - - CHAPTER SEVEN - Back of Beyond - - -After a hurried lunch that ended with flabby apple pie, as Sandy had -discovered most lunches usually did in the Southwest, the five men -climbed into Quail’s pickup truck. (The Chief insisted that the jeep -couldn’t possibly travel the trails they would have to follow.) Then -they set out for the wild Dot Klish Canyon area, to the northwest of -Chinle, where the Navajo thought Chief Ponytooth and his wife were -“squatting,” as he put it. - -Ralph chose to sit on a box in the bed of the truck because, as he said -frankly, “If I’m in the cab with the Chief, we’ll quarrel.” - -Sandy joined the driller on another box that was scantily padded with a -piece of blanket. Soon both of them were hanging onto the truck body for -dear life as they bumped and blundered over a road that made previous -ones they had traveled seem like superhighways. - -Sometimes their way led through tall thickets of mesquite and briars -that threatened to tear the clothes off their backs. Then they would -ford a stream so deep that water splashed over them. The machine, though -still fairly new, groaned and knocked like a Model T at the torture it -was undergoing. - -“This territory is what Australians call ‘back of beyond,’” Ralph -shouted at one point as he dodged low-hanging tree branches. “We need a -covered wagon.” - -At another, when they all had to get out and push the machine from a -gully into which it had slid, he made sarcastic remarks about the -driving abilities of all unprintable Navajos. - -Once he wiped the streaming perspiration from his face and neck, pointed -to a mass of black clouds in the west and muttered, “Thunderstorm -weather. A good day to lie under a tree and take siesta.” Mostly, -though, the Ute gritted his teeth and kept silent as the pickup fought -its lonely way across the fringes of the Painted Desert. - -It was midafternoon and the sticky heat was stifling when they reached -the great box canyon where the Hopis were supposed to be living. - -“I don’t like the feel of this place,” Quail said as he stopped the -truck on a high bank that overlooked the trout stream pouring out of a -narrow cleft between two buttes. “Look at those thunder clouds piling -up. I should not wish to lose my car in there.” - -“_We_ don’t matter, of course,” Ralph grunted. “How far is it to -Ponytooth’s place?” - -“About half a mile, I think,” the Navajo answered. - -“Then let’s leave your precious hunk of junk out here and walk in.” -Ralph set off down a faint trail at a fast lope that the others found -hard to match. - -Around a sharp bend in the canyon they came at last to a heap of -sandstone ruins. The little group of circular pueblos looked as old as -the surrounding hills. Most of the walls had crumbled or been knocked -apart in some strange manner. Only one had a roof of pine or cottonwood -beams, light poles and bunch grass. In front of it a tiny old woman sat -smoking a long pipe. - -Her face, brown as chocolate, was a mass of wrinkles. But her black -eyes, which peered out of the folds of a heavy wool blanket, or manta, -were sharp with intelligence. - -She made no answer to their questions in English and Navajo. When Ralph -spoke to her in the basic Shoshonean language, however, she pursed her -lips and pointed up the canyon with them. - -“Ponytooth is probably up there hunting somewhere,” Chief Quail said. -“We’d better find him before it gets too dark.” - -Half a mile farther up the stream they found the old Chief. He was -stalking a jack rabbit with, of all things, a bow and arrows. Slanting -rays of sunshine that broke through the gathering clouds showed that he -was dressed in the ancient Hopi costume. It consisted of a woolen -poncho, or blanket, with a hole cut in the center, through which he had -thrust his white head, baggy trousers slit up to the knees on the sides, -deerskin leggings wrapped round and round his spindly shanks, and -beautifully woven sandals. Only his belt, which was mounted with large -silver discs, showed that he was a person of importance. - -“I didn’t know that clothing like that existed any more, except in -museums,” Ralph said softly. - -The Hopi shot the jack rabbit through the heart, retrieved his arrow, -and came toward them, carrying the animal by its long ears. When Hall -went forward, with outstretched hand, the Hopi showed no surprise -whatever. - -“No spikum English mush,” he said gravely in return to the oilman’s -greeting. - -Chief Quail tried him in Navajo—and got a cold stare in return. - -“I think I can make him understand what we want, if it’s O.K. with you, -John,” said the driller. - -At a nod from Hall he spoke at great length in Shoshone clicks and -gutturals. - -Chief Ponytooth listened, at first politely, then with a growing frown. -At last he held up a hand and replied with a torrent of words. As he -spoke, thunder rolled in the far distance. - -“He says,” Ralph translated, “that he is an old man. Soon his body will -be placed in a crevice in the rocks, and his spirit will go northward to -join those of his ancestors at a place called Sipapu. Meanwhile, -however, he has been ordered by the Hopi Council to live here in the -ruins of Awatobi, a pueblo or village that was destroyed by the -Spaniards hundreds of years ago because the tribe had killed all of -their Christian missionaries. - -“Although he knows that the Navajos claim this territory as part of -their reservation, he declares that it is part of Tusayan, an ancient -province belonging to the Hopi and their cousins, the Moqui. So long as -he stays here, he believes, neither Navajos nor palefaces will dare to -steal this land.” - -“Tell him we don’t want his confounded desert,” Hall said impatiently. -“Tell him we won’t kill a single jack rabbit or harm a piece of -sagebrush. Try to make him understand that all we want to do is to -remove oil from far beneath the ground. In exchange we will give his -people money so they may build schools and hospitals.” - -When this was translated, Ponytooth straightened his bent back and -glared at them defiantly. His face, under its broad white hairband, took -on a haughty grandeur. Then he spoke again, waving his skinny arms and -beating his breast for emphasis. - -And the thunder rolled nearer with every sentence he uttered. - -“He says—” Ralph shrugged—“that neither the Navajos nor the palefaces -have ever given his people anything. They have always taken things -away—cattle, wheat, the spirits of young warriors. They are his enemies -until the end of the world. He is weak and old now, but you can only -take this land by killing him.” - -A spatter of cold rain emphasized the Chief’s meaning. - -“We had better leave this place,” Quail said as he gripped Hall’s arm. -“It must be raining hard farther up the canyon.” - -“Not yet,” Hall snapped. “Ralph, tell the Chief that we understand how -he feels and that we will go, if he wishes. But warn him that if he does -not accept the fair offer we wish to make him, other men may come and -take this land from him, as they took other things from his ancestors. -Try to make him understand that we are his friends.” - -The Chief understood the last English word. - -“Frens!” he screamed. “Frens! Frens! Frens!” In the rapidly gathering -darkness the canyon walls echoed with his shouts. “Paleface, Navajo, -never frens to Hopi!” - -Chief Ponytooth, last of the Pony Clan, burst into wild whoops of -sarcastic laughter. At the same moment, thunder rolled deafeningly above -their heads, lightning danced about the canyon walls like angry spirits, -and the rain began coming down in bucketfuls. - -“Out!” yelled Chief Quail. In his excitement he forgot his careful -grammar. “Water come. We die!” - -He spoke too late. A roaring sound had begun far up the canyon. Before -they could move, it grew deafening. At the same time a five-foot wall of -yellow water swept down upon them like an express train. - -After that, things happened too fast to be described. As he ran madly -toward the canyon wall with the idea of climbing out of reach of the -flash flood, Sandy slipped on a bank of wet clay and fell headlong. -Ralph grabbed him by the collar and barely managed to drag him to -safety. - -Hall let out a wild yell as the dry sandbank on which he had been -standing a moment before absorbed water like a sponge, turned to -quicksand, and began to suck at his legs. Just before the wall of water -struck, Donovan snatched up a long branch and held it out. Hall grasped -it and, in turn, was pulled to comparative safety. - -By this time the little trout stream had turned into a raging torrent. A -great pine tree in its bed, roots torn loose by the tremendous sudden -push of the water wall, came crashing down. A branch caught Ponytooth -across the thighs and dragged him from sight beneath the flood. - -Chief Quail, who was nearest to the Hopi, acted instinctively. He -plunged into the frothing, rock-filled water and fought it with all the -power of his massive shoulders. A moment later he was tumbling -downstream with the old man held tightly in his arms. - -While the others watched spellbound in the gathering darkness, the -Navajo fought the cloudburst. Fifty yards downstream, he managed to hook -a leg around a rock that still held firm. His face purple with effort, -he finally succeeded in pulling his apparently lifeless burden to the -top of a dry ledge. - -Almost as quickly as it had come, the flood subsided. Dripping, cold and -shaken, the little party headed back toward the pueblo ruins. Chief -Quail walked ahead, carrying the Hopi in his arms. - -An hour later Donovan rose from examining the Chief and looked across a -campfire at the rest of them with a worried frown. The geologist had -found Ponytooth’s only apparent injury—a broken leg—and had set it with -expert fingers. But the old man failed to return to full consciousness -thereafter. He threw his arms about and shouted wildly. His cheeks -burned with sudden fever. When his little brown wife crept to his side, -he ordered her away in a frenzy. - -“I can’t understand it,” said Donovan. “So far as I can tell, he has no -internal injuries. But the life is running out of him like water out of -a sack. I’m afraid he may be dying.” - -“He _is_ dying,” Ralph spoke up softly. “I’ve been listening to his -ravings. He thinks he has offended the water spirits by even talking to -palefaces and a Navajo and a Ute about the tribe’s sacred boundary line. -He thinks he must die to make his peace with the spirits. And so, he -_will_ die before the night is out.” - -“Hosteen Quail,” said Hall, “Navajo chiefs are medicine men as well, -aren’t they? Can’t you paint a sand picture or something, and cure -Ponytooth of his delusion?” - -“No,” the Chief answered sadly. “Navajo magic works only for Navajos.” - -“Let me try,” Ralph said suddenly. He gripped the Hopi’s shoulder to get -his dazed attention, and spoke to him for a long time in Shoshonean. The -old man shook his head back and forth in disagreement, but he stopped -picking at the moth-eaten buffalo robe which Donovan had thrown over -him. - -“I told him that the water spirits were not angry,” the Ute said at -last. “He said I lied. I told him we are all his friends. He said to -prove it. So I told him I would prove it by singing him well.” Ralph -stood up slowly and paced around the fire three times in a -counterclockwise direction. “My father was a medicine man,” he went on. -“As a boy I watched him sing people well, but I never was allowed to try -it, of course.... Well, here goes.... Wish me luck, Hosteen Quail.” - -He leaned his head back against the ruined pueblo wall for a moment, as -though gathering strength from the ancient building. Then he began to -sing in his rich baritone. - -At first the chant went slowly, slowly, like the beat of buffalo hoofs -on the open prairie. Then, as Sandy held his breath to listen, the -rhythm became faster. The words meant nothing to the boy, but somehow -they painted pictures in his mind: A wild charge of naked Indian -horsemen, dying in a hopeless effort to capture a fort from which white -rifle smoke wreathed. The thundering rapids of some great northern -river. Chirping of treetoads in the spring. A love song on some distant -mesa. A bird call. The silence of a summer night.... - -“There!” Ralph whispered at last, his broad face dripping sweat. - -He reached under Ponytooth’s robe and fumbled there for several moments. -Almost, he seemed to be withdrawing some object from the old man’s -body—something red and wet—like a fingernail! - -The Hopi gave a long sigh. “Frens,” he murmured as he sank into peaceful -slumber. - -“He’ll be all right now,” said the Ute, “providing we take him to the -hospital at Lukachukai quick to get that compound fracture fixed.” - -He stumbled out into the darkness, which now was spangled with stars. - -Her eyes round with faith and wonder, the little brown woman followed -him. She was carrying a pot of steaming coffee. - - -The less said about that awful midnight drive to Lukachukai, the better. -Hall got them there somehow, while Chief Quail and Ralph held Ponytooth -in their arms during the entire journey to protect his leg. - -Then they had to go all the way back to Chinle for the jeep, but not -before Chief Quail had made a detour to toss a piece of yellow carnotite -ore on the wishing pile which stood near the entrance to Canyon de -Chelly. - -“It’s not that I like Hopis any better than I do Utes,” he said -shamefacedly. “It’s just that I want Ponytooth’s leg to get well quick -so we can settle the boundary dispute.” - -“Well, here, I’ll chuck something on your silly pile, too.” Ralph -twisted a ring off his finger and tossed it onto the big mound of -stones. “Me Boy Scout. Always do good turn.” But he turned away so the -others couldn’t see his face. - -They got a few hours’ sleep at Thunderbird, but a much-relayed telegram -dragged them out of bed before sunup. It was from Jack Boyd, the diesel -engine man at the well, and it read: - - SHE’S ACTING UP STOP HAVE HER STUFFED FULL OF MUD STOP HURRY - -More dead than alive, they pulled onto Hall’s property to find that -things had calmed down. Drilling was proceeding as usual, in fact, and -Boyd was covered with embarrassment. - -As Ralph and Sandy stood outside the bunk trailer, almost too tired to -go in and take their clothes off, the driller said lazily, “See that big -mountain there to the north? What does it remind you of?” - -Sandy blinked the sleep out of his eyes and stared. The mountain in -question had a big round cliff at one end, a long high ridge in its -center, two branching ridges farther along, and sharply pointed cliffs -at its other end. - -“Why,” he said at last, “it looks like a man lying on his back.” - -“Good boy. That’s what it is.” Ralph grinned. “That mountain is called -the Sleeping Ute. It’s supposed to be a great warrior who will awake -some day, to unite all the Indians.... And do you know what?” - -“What?” Sandy yawned mightily. - -“I thought I saw his big toe wiggle just a minute ago.” - - - - - CHAPTER EIGHT - Cavanaugh Shows His Colors - - -Long before sunup, the screaming of a siren on the rig brought off-duty -crewmen pouring out of their bunks in all stages of undress. When Sandy -arrived at the brightly lighted well, the night foreman was already -halfway through his report to Hall, Salmon and Donovan. - -“She started rumblin’ an’ kickin’ at the drillpipe just like she did -yesterday.” The fat, oil-smeared man was puffing. “I stepped up the mud -pressure an’ pulled the siren. She’s calmed down now, but the blowout -preventers are having all they can do to hold her.” - -“Good boy,” said Hall. “If you had pulled the siren and waited for -orders we might have a gusher on our hands and pieces of derrick flying -in all directions. How far down are we?” - -“Little over 5,500 feet, last time I checked.” - -“That’s the Gallup Pay.” Donovan was dancing with excitement. “I knew -we’d hit it. Let’s take a sample and see what we’ve got.” - -The big old diesel roared for a moment. It dragged a bar of iron called -a “kelly” out of the square hole in the turntable until the top of the -first section of drillpipe appeared. - -After the pipe had been securely locked in the turntable so that it -could neither fall back into the well nor shoot upward if the -underground pressure increased suddenly, two floormen clamped their -six-foot-long tongs, or monkey wrenches, around the kelly and unscrewed -it from the pipe with great care. - -They had eased it off only two or three turns when a frothy mixture with -the foul odor of rotten eggs began to squirt from between kelly and -pipe. - -Donovan caught some of this in his cupped hands. He smelled it, rubbed -it between his fingers and then _tasted_ it. - -“Beautiful!” the geologist crooned. “This is good, high-gravity oil. The -sulphur content is high, as you can smell, but refiners know how to take -that out. I’ll tell you more when I’ve run a full analysis, but it sure -looks as if we’ve licked the law of averages. Two flowing wells in two -tries is ’way above par.” - -The crewmen, who had been holding their breaths for his verdict, let out -wild rebel yells and spun their battered hats into the air. Jack Boyd -and the night foreman hoisted Hall on their shoulders and marched him -around the derrick in triumph. - -“All right, fellows,” the oilman shouted to stop the riot. “You all get -new hats, new shoes and bonuses!” As they started another cheer he -mounted the drill platform and held up his hand for attention. - -“But I’m going to ask you not to wear those hats and shoes, or bank your -bonuses, for a few weeks yet. This has got to be a tight well.” - -“Glory, Mr. Hall,” somebody called from the edge of the crowd. “No -celebration? That’s a lot to ask.” - -“I know it is, Bill. But look at it this way: With this well under my -belt, I can get a big bank loan and hire several more rigs to work this -property. That will take me at least a month. If news gets out about -this strike in the meantime, what will happen?” - -“Cavanaugh and the oil companies that hold adjoining leases will rush in -and drill offset wells just outside your boundaries before you can get -started,” Bill answered glumly. “They’ll drain most of the oil out from -under your land, like they did up at Cortez last year.” - -“Right!” said Hall. “I know things have been tough these last few -months. I’ve had to hold up your pay several times, to make ends meet. -But you all hold stock in our company. If you hang on a little longer, -we’ll all be in clover. So I’m sure you’ll keep your mouths shut when -the spies come prowling, as they will.” - -A roar of agreement went up, but then someone said, “How about the kid? -He don’t own no stock, does he?” - -“I know Sandy, and I know his dad,” Hall answered. “Also, his bonus is -going to be twenty shares of stock. I’ll vouch for him.” He slapped the -surprised boy on the back and added, “All right, gang. Back to work. -We’ll pull the string and get the well cemented and closed in. Then -we’ll shut down here till I get that bank loan arranged. Some of you -have vacations coming. Take them now. Don will put the rest of you to -work running surveys and drilling test wells on our downriver lease. -Tell any snoopers that John Hall ran out of cash—which is no lie. I -closed out my balance at Farmington last week so I could meet the -payroll!” - -After the drillpipe was withdrawn and stacked, the combined crews spent -the rest of the day mixing an untold number of bags of cement with -water. This mixture was pumped down the well to replace the mud that had -filled it to the brim. - -Once, when they heard a plane approaching, most of the men faded into -the trailers while the others tried to look as unbusy as possible. The -ship was Cavanaugh’s Bonanza! It circled twice and roared away. - -When Salmon estimated that the hole was full of cement, the diesel began -pumping mud again. This forced the cement out of the well and up to the -surface between the earth walls and the heavy steel casing inside which -the drillpipe had rotated. - -“How do you ever reach the oil again?” Sandy asked when the operation -was completed. - -“Easy.” Ralph yawned tiredly. “After the cement has hardened, we’ll pump -out the mud. That will leave a cement plug twenty feet or so thick in -the well bottom to keep the pressure under control. When we want to -start producing, we just drill through the plug and away we go. Say, why -don’t you go to bed instead of asking foolish questions? You look as if -you had been dragged through a dustbin.” - -“I was just thinking, Ralph. Since we’ll be having some time off, why -don’t we visit Miss Gonzales’ school?” - -“You go,” yawned the driller. “I’ve got to get this well capped good and -tight tomorrow and then drive to Farmington and try to rent a portable -test rig—on the cuff. I’m going to act so poor-boyish that it will break -your heart. Casehardened drillers will weep in their beer when they hear -my tale of woe.” - -“Is that exactly honest?” Sandy tried to smooth down his cement-whitened -cowlick, as he always did when he was thinking hard. “I mean—we _have_ -struck oil.” - -“We’ll have struck it for somebody else’s benefit if we don’t play our -cards close to our chests and keep a close guard over our well _and_ our -tongues.” Ralph looked at him shrewdly. “You’ll see what I mean in a day -or two. And here’s some good advice: Watch your step, Sandy. There are -some mighty curly wolves in this oil game. Don’t try playing Red Riding -Hood with them.” - - -Learning that Jack Boyd was one of the men assigned to guard the well -from all intruders, Sandy borrowed the engine man’s car the next day and -headed in the direction of Kitty’s school. The going was rough, as -usual, but the machine was equipped with a heavy-duty transmission and -rear axle, double shock absorbers, an oversized gasoline tank and other -features which defied the chuckholes. He made good time and found the -school trailer during the noon recess. - -Twenty Navajo children of all ages were playing what looked like a fast -game of baseball as he drove up. They flew into the trailer like a flock -of frightened chickens, and came out trying to hide behind their -teacher’s skirts. - -Kitty greeted her visitor with considerable reserve, but when he told -her that Ralph had asked him to come, she became much more friendly and -invited him to share her lunch. - -He found that the roomy trailer was well equipped for its purpose, with -plenty of desks, books, a blackboard and other facilities. It was parked -under tall pine trees near the first brook that he had found since he -left the well. - -“A good place to study,” he said to make conversation as he looked out -of the big windows at the nearby Chuska Mountains. - -“But it’s the shower that attracts the children at first,” she admitted. -“I have a little pump in the creek, you see, so we have all the water in -the world. They’ve never seen anything like it. Most of them live in -gloomy hogans where the only light comes through the door and the smoke -hole in the center of the room, and where water has to be brought in in -buckets. _Hot_ water is the greatest luxury they’ve ever known. They’d -stay under the shower all day long, except that they are so eager to -learn their lessons.” - -“Navajos really like to study?” He tried to keep the surprise out of his -voice. - -“Of course they do. They’re bright as silver dollars. Now that they have -schools, they’re going to surprise everybody with the speed at which -they learn.” - -“Do you ever teach them about Kit Carson?” he took the plunge. - -“Why ...” she stared at him uncertainly. “I mention his name when I have -to.” - -“I think you’re being prejudiced.” Sandy smoothed his cowlick -desperately. Would she throw him out of the trailer for being so bold? - -“So that’s why you came!” She startled him by bursting into a merry peal -of laughter. “That was brave, after the—after the nasty way I treated -you at Farmington. Very well, teacher. Tell me why you think Great-uncle -Kit was a friend of the Navajos.” - -Sandy began haltingly, but soon warmed to his subject while the Navajo -children came in from their play, gathered around him, and listened -intently. Remembering old stories his mother had told him, Sandy related -how Kit, an undersized, sickly boy of fifteen, had learned to make -saddles so he could get a job with a wagon train that was heading west -from his home town in Missouri. - -He went on to tell how his great-uncle had overcome endless hardships to -become famous as a hunter, trapper and scout with Frémont’s expedition. -He described how Kit had driven a flock of 6,500 sheep across the -Rockies to prevent a famine that threatened the early settlers in -California. He explained the happy ending to the blockade of the Navajos -in the Canyon de Chelly, and wound up by telling how Carson had left his -deathbed to go to Washington and make one more plea for government help -for “his Indians.” - -“That’s about all,” he concluded, “except that a town and a river in -Nevada, and an oil field in New Mexico are named after Kit Carson. He -_must_ have been a good man.” - -“Perhaps he was,” the girl said softly while her pupils smiled and -nodded their dark heads. “I’ll be kinder to him when I teach a history -lesson after this. He sounds a lot nicer than some of the people I have -met recently. That Mr. Cavanaugh, for instance....” She turned up her -snub nose and let her voice trail off. - -“Cavanaugh!” Sandy cried. “Has he been prowling around here too?” - -“Yes. He drove through here this morning in a truck. Said he was making -some sort of ax minerals survey of school lands. Also said he’d stop by -again after school. Will you stay here until he has gone, Mr. Cars—Mr. -Steele? I can’t bear him.” - -“I will if you’ll call me Sandy,” the boy said bashfully. - -“All right, Sandy. And you may call me Kitty.” - -“Cavanaugh certainly gets around,” Sandy said. “Did he have anyone with -him?” - -“Yes, a young man who seemed to worship the ground he walked on. _He_ -was nice enough, but, well, sort of dewy-eyed, if you know what I mean.” - -“I know,” Sandy grunted, “and not quite dry behind the ears, either. -That was Pepper March.” - -“Well, time to get classes started.” Kitty jumped up with a flutter of -skirts and shooed her children to their desks. For the next two hours, -while Sandy listened admiringly, she was an efficient, understanding -schoolma’am. As he followed the recitation he had to admit that, as she -had said, the Navajo children were “bright as silver dollars.” They -displayed an eagerness to learn that almost frightened him. Very few -youngsters showed that hunger for knowledge back at Valley View High. - -That got him to thinking about poor old Quiz. How he would have enjoyed -this visit. What tough luck! But maybe he’d have a chance to get some -sort of line on Cavanaugh, the big lug. - -The roar of an approaching truck jerked him out of his reverie. Kitty -quickly dismissed her pupils and she and Sandy were alone in the trailer -when Cavanaugh strode in, closely pursued by Pepper. - -“Oh!” The big man frowned at the unexpected visitor until Pepper rushed -forward, shouting Sandy’s name, and shook hands as though his school -rival were the best friend he had in the world. - -Then Cavanaugh turned on a smile as bright as a neon sign and insisted -on shaking hands too. - -“I’ve heard a lot about you from Pepper,” he boomed. “Wish you were on -my team instead of John Hall’s. Say! I heard you had a bit of luck at -your well. Is that right?” - -“Luck?” Sandy stammered, wondering how on earth he was going to get out -of this one. - -“Oh, sure. Everybody knows about the telegram that brought you all -tearing back from Chinle. Did the well come in?” - -“It.... We....” Sandy almost swallowed his Adam’s apple and his face -went white under its tan. What on earth could he say? - -Cavanaugh misunderstood the reason for his hesitation and lost his -momentary advantage by rushing on. - -“Oh, come on, son.” He pounded the boy’s shoulder with a great show of -affection. “You don’t owe a thing to that old skinflint Hall. Give me -the real lowdown on the well and I’ll make it very much worth your -while.” - -Sandy jerked away, his fists clenched in fury, but Kitty stepped quickly -between him and his tormentor. - -“Mr. Cavanaugh,” she said in a voice that dripped ice water, “you’re new -around the oil regions, aren’t you?” - -“What do you mean?” The electronics man pulled in his dimpled chin as -though the girl had slapped him. - -“Out here in the Southwest,” she said slowly, “folks don’t pry into -other folks’ business if they know what’s good for them.” - -“Well.... I.... You....” His face turned scarlet. “You can’t talk to -me....” - -“I can, and will.” Her black eyes flashed fire. “Your truck is -trespassing on school property belonging to the state of Utah. Remove it -at once!” - -Cavanaugh opened and closed his mouth several times, like a fish out of -water. - -“You’ll both be sorry for this,” he gritted like a stage villain. “Come -along, Pepper.” - -“Do you....” Sandy spoke through a dry throat after Cavanaugh’s truck -had thundered away. “Kitty, do you live here in the trailer?” - -“Why, of course.” She looked at him oddly. “There’s not the slightest -danger.” - -“I’m not so sure, now. Couldn’t you stay with one of the Navajo families -in the neighborhood for a while?” - -“Then who would protect the school? It’s more important than I am.” - -“But....” - -“Don’t you worry, Sandy Carson Steele.” She patted his arm. “The Navajos -are my friends, and they’re no friends of Cavanaugh. I’ll tell them -what’s happened and they’ll take good care of me. Now you had better get -back to the well as fast as you can. The roads are completely impossible -after dark.” - - - - - CHAPTER NINE - Fighting Fire with Fire - - -When he got back to the well Sandy found that Hall had already set out -on his fund-raising campaign while Donovan had locked himself in his -trailer laboratory and was running analyses on oil samples he had taken -before the cement was poured. Ralph had just finished welding a heavy -cap to the top of the casing. - -“I defy anybody to find out what’s down there until we’re ready to let -them know,” he said as he grinned at the tired and dirty boy. The grin -changed to a frown. “What have you been up to this time, Sandy? You look -like something the cat refused to drag in!” - -When he learned about the events at Kitty’s school, the driller nodded -grimly. - -“I warned you about the curly wolves,” he said. “Go get cleaned up and -have some supper. Then come over to the lab. We’ll talk to Don about -this.” - -The geologist smoked thoughtfully while Sandy reported. Then he knocked -out his pipe and said, “He’s impossible.” - -“Who’s impossible?” Ralph asked. - -“This man Cavanaugh. No man can spread himself as thin as he has been -doing. Look at it this way.” He held up a long finger stained with -chemicals. “First, he’s bidding for helium leases on land where he -wouldn’t be allowed to drill. Second—” another finger went up—“he’s -bidding for uranium leases although the government isn’t buying ore from -companies that don’t have mills. Third, he’s spying on our well. Fourth, -he’s trying to lease land in the disputed San Juan River bed. Fifth, -he’s prospecting on school lands without asking anyone’s permission. -Hmmm! I’ll run out of fingers pretty soon. Sixth, he’s peddling -electronic exploration equipment that isn’t worth a hoot when used by -itself. Seventh, he’s operating an unlicensed light beam communications -network. Eighth—and here’s something I learned when I drove over to -Farmington with John and we called Lukachukai to find out how Chief -Ponytooth is getting on—Cavanaugh flew down there yesterday and almost -pulled the hospital apart trying to get permission to talk to the old -man.” - -“That means he hopes to get in on the ground floor if the Navajos and -Hopis settle their dispute,” said Ralph. - -“Either that or he wants to hurt John by convincing the Chief that the -tribes shouldn’t get together.” - -“How is the Chief feeling?” Sandy asked. - -“Just fine, the nurse told me. He’s tough as shoe leather. Now, is there -anything else about Cavanaugh’s activities that we should consider?” - -“Why does he work day and night to convince people that he’s a heel?” -Ralph contributed. - -“Quiz thinks there’s something wrong with the football stories he’s -always telling,” said Sandy. - -“All right,” Donovan went on thoughtfully. “I suggest that a lot of the -things Cavanaugh is doing are meant to be camouflage. He’s throwing up -some sort of smoke screen to get people confused about his true -intentions. And, since we’re the ones most likely to get hurt by -whatever he’s really up to, I also think we had better do a little -investigating. Does either of you have any suggestions?” - -“If he were sending up smoke signals instead of talking on a light beam, -I’ll bet I could soon find out,” the Indian said. - -“That’s an excellent idea, Ralph.” The geologist fired up his pipe and -sent clouds of smoke billowing through the crowded lab. “Eavesdroppers -never hear anything good about themselves, they say. Nevertheless, I -think we should fight fire with fire by listening in on him and learning -the worst.” - -“But how _can_ we listen in?” Sandy objected. “Even if we got high -enough to intercept his beam—in a helicopter, let’s say—he would know -something had gone wrong when his receiving station didn’t reply. He’d -stop talking.” - -“There’s another way to go about it,” Donovan replied. “I’m a pretty -good geophysicist as well as a geologist, Sandy. I have to be out here, -where I may go out looking for oil and find a uranium lode if I keep my -eyes peeled and my Geiger counter turned on. - -“Over on that table—” he nodded toward a small electric furnace and a -collection of retorts, chemicals and test tubes on one corner of his -work bench—“I have equipment so sensitive that I can burn the branch of -a pine tree, or even a bunch of loco weed and find out whether the roots -of that tree or weed reach down into a uranium ore deposit. With it, I -can detect in the ash as little as one part in a million of any -radioactive ore the plant has sucked up from underground in its sap. -Which reminds me that any time you run across a patch of loco weed, let -me know immediately. The poisonous stuff seems to like to grow on ground -in the vicinity of uranium. - -“All right. Any physicist understands the principles of electronics, the -properties of light, and so on, doesn’t he?” - -Sandy nodded with growing excitement. - -“Also, you may have heard that the FBI has an electronic gadget so -sensitive that it can eavesdrop on the conversations of crooks, even -though they may be sitting in a boat half a mile from shore.” - -“I’ll bet the Shoshonean water spirits take a dim view of that,” said -Ralph, grinning. - -Donovan waved him to silence with his pipe and continued. - -“Now my guess is that Cavanaugh is using a lot of power from a portable -generator to produce a beam bright enough to be seen a hundred or so -miles away. And it’s a lot easier for him to modulate that current so it -will modulate the beam than to use revolving mirrors or some other -mechanical means to do the job. There is bound to be considerable -leakage in a circuit of that kind. I think I can go to one of the radio -supply stores in Farmington tomorrow and pick up enough parts to make an -electronic ‘ear’ that can tune in on that leakage if we get it within a -hundred feet of Cavanaugh’s transmitter.” - -“Sherlock Donovan,” said Ralph, “I take off my hat to you.” - - -The haywire “ear” that Donovan built during the next several days with -what little assistance Sandy was able to supply didn’t look like much. -It was just a collection of transistors, fixed and variable condensers, -coils and verniers mounted on an old breadboard. But it had the -advantage of being light and portable. And, when they tried it out with -the help of their radio receiving set, it worked! - -They found that, with the set’s loudspeaker disconnected, they could -place their gadget several hundred feet away and hear the programs -perfectly, either on the short-wave or regular broadcasting channels. - -“That does it,” Donovan finally said after a careful series of night -tests. “We don’t know the frequency that Cavanaugh is using as a -modulator, but this thing is flexible enough to tune in on practically -any wave band. Now the question becomes, when do we try it out?” - -“Why not right now?” Ralph asked. - -“Boyd has gone in to town, so I’m in charge of keeping an eye on the -well,” said the geologist. “I can’t go with you tonight.” - -“Sandy and I can handle it,” said the driller. “We’ll take the jeep. If -we get in a jam we’ll send up a rocket or something.” - -On the slow, twenty-mile drive to Elbow Rock, Ralph spun old tales about -Ute scouting expeditions and buffalo hunts, but Sandy scarcely listened. -He was feeling miserable, and wished for the first time that he was back -home in Valley View. - -“You don’t like what we’re doing, do you?” Ralph said at last. - -“Well, gee. Eavesdropping seems sort of sneaking.” - -“I know it does, but don’t forget that we’re dealing with a sneak. Tell -you what: you stay in the car. I’ll take the ear in.” - -“No,” Sandy said firmly. “I’ll do anything I can to help Mr. Hall. -Besides, I helped build the ear and know just how it works. I’ll carry -it.” - -They parked as close to Cavanaugh’s brightly lighted trailer as they -dared. Then Sandy strapped the detector on his chest and walked slowly -up the mountain in darkness so intense and silent that it could almost -be felt. Remembering the lay of the land from the time that he and Quiz -had visited the spot with Pepper, he managed to stay mostly on the -trail. - -He was still several hundred yards from the trailer when the night -exploded in a blare of savage noise. Several large dogs had started -baying furiously near the trailer. A door opened. Cavanaugh shouted -angrily at a pack of long-legged animals that leaped and whined in the -shaft of light. - -When quiet had been restored, Sandy inched forward once more. But it was -no use. The chorus of barks rose louder than before and several of the -dogs started in his direction. With mixed emotions of annoyance and -relief, he returned to the jeep and reported. - -“Dogs!” Ralph growled. “That means Cavanaugh really has something to -hide. What did they look like?” - -“They had long legs, sharp noses and big white teeth.” - -“Doberman pinschers, I’ll bet. Say! Tim Robbins breeds Dobermans over in -Bluff. They make better sheep tenders than shepherds, he claims. Let’s -pay him a visit, even if it is late.” He started the jeep. - -“What are you planning to do?” Sandy asked sharply. - -“If Utes could behave like buffalo, there’s no reason why I can’t be a -dog,” Ralph answered. - -“But you don’t have a dog skin,” Sandy objected. - -“I’m going to get one.” - -Old man Robbins was in bed when they arrived at his home on the -outskirts of the little mining town. He came downstairs in his -nightshirt when he recognized Ralph’s voice, made coffee for his -visitors, and listened to their request without surprise. - -“Why, sure, I’ve got a few skins,” he said. “Here’s one that belonged to -poor Maisie. She died of distemper last year. I was going to upholster a -chair with her, but you can have her for a dollar.” - -“Mind if I take a look around your runways and kennels, Dad?” Ralph -asked. - -“Go ahead, but don’t get yourself bit, young feller.” The old man shook -his head at the strange ways of all Indians. - -Five minutes later they were headed back toward Elbow Rock. - -“Phooey!” said Sandy. “You smell like dog, all right.” - -“I rolled around a bit in the kennels.” Ralph’s grin was just visible in -the light from the dash bulb. “Now I’ve got to start thinking like a -dog. Don’t bother me, human!” - -When they arrived at their destination the driller took a brief lesson -in the operation of the ear, slipped its harness over his shoulders, and -draped Maisie’s hide around his hips. - -“Keep your fingers crossed and say a prayer to the water spirits,” he -whispered just before he faded into the velvety darkness. - -For long moments Sandy held his breath, expecting a renewal of that wild -barking. But it didn’t come. High on the Elbow Rock the aluminum trailer -glowed undisturbed in the soft light pouring from its picture windows. - -A trout, leaping in the stream nearby, caused the boy to start -violently. He tried to relax but that only made him listen harder. Once -he thought he heard a strain of music coming from the trailer. Hours -later, it seemed, an owl’s hoot made his hair stir on his scalp. He -smoothed down his cowlick and then gripped the wheel of the car with -both hands to stop their trembling. What if Dobermans didn’t always bark -before they attacked? What if Ralph was up there.... - -“I’m back.” - -Sandy almost yelled with relief as his friend materialized out of -nowhere and climbed nonchalantly into the car. “Wha ... what happened?” -gasped the boy, gripping the Indian’s arm to see if he really was real. -“You fooled the dogs?” - -“Nothing happened. And your little friends never batted an eyelash. I’m -good, I guess.” He removed the skin and tossed it into the rear of the -jeep. - -“What do you mean, nothing happened? Didn’t the ear work?” - -“It worked perfectly.” He started the motor and jammed the car into -gear. - -“What did you hear?” - -“Music,” said the Ute disgustedly. “Highbrow music. Bach and stuff.” - -“Was it code of some kind?” - -“Nah!” Ralph spat into the night. “Your friend Pepper would say, ‘Come -in, Gallup. I’ve got something here that you’d like: the umpteenth -symphony by so-and-so.’ Then he’d play a record and say, ‘How did that -sound, Gallup?’ And Gallup would answer, ‘Clear as a bell, kid. Keep it -up.’ Or Window Rock trailer would come in, ask for a Belafonte number, -and then say it was fuzzy and to sharpen up the beam. Craziest -performance I ever heard.” - -“Maybe they’re just lonesome, way up here,” Sandy said with great -relief. - -“Maybe. But it’s a mighty expensive way to be lonesome.” - -“Or they could be testing,” the boy went on with less assurance. - -“That sounds more like it.” - -“Or they’re killing time while they wait for a message of some kind?” - -“Now you’re cooking with LP gas. The question remains: where is that -message going to come from? I don’t like this business, Sandy. It gets -screwier. I wish we could monitor his station every night, but that’s -impossible, of course. Well, at least we know our ear works and that -Cavanaugh keeps a kennel. I wonder what John and Don will make of this -one.” - -“When will Mr. Hall be back?” Sandy was glad for a chance to change the -subject. - -“Next week, I think. Keep this under your hat, but he has got his loan, -and has flown down to Houston to put some more rigs under contract. -Also, I wangled a portable drill rig when I was in Farmington today. -That means we’ll soon be heading for the other lease to run some -surveys. And _that’s_ a job that separates the men from the boys, I can -tell you.” - -“After what happened tonight I feel as if I’d already been separated.” -Sandy yawned. “Gee, don’t oilmen ever get any sleep?” - - - - - CHAPTER TEN - Pepper Makes a Play - - -A huge truck carrying a light folding drill rig and motor rumbled into -camp from Farmington two days after the Elbow Rock episode. Donovan then -set about organizing an exploration crew. Since the need for secrecy had -lessened, only five of the older men were selected to act as a token -guard for the property. Ten others, who had had experience in survey -work, were directed to take tarpaulins off the long-unused instrument -and “shooting” trucks, tune up their motors, and get the trailers set -for travel. After Ralph had checked every item on the rented truck and -Donovan had made sure that his seismograph, magnetometer, gravimeter and -other scientific apparatus were all in perfect working order, the little -caravan rolled westward toward Hall’s other San Juan River lease. - -“We may be going on a wild-goose chase,” the geologist told Sandy, who -was riding with him in the jeep that now had the laboratory in tow. “I -had an aerial survey run on the property last fall. It shows one -anticline that _may_ contain oil, but I’ll have to do a lot of surface -work before I recommend that John spends money on a wildcat well.” - -“How do you make an aerial survey, Mr. Donovan?” - -“I’d like you to call me Don, if you will, Sandy,” the geologist said. -“And you ought to call John by his first name, too. Oilmen don’t go in -for formality after they get acquainted.” - -“Yes, sir ... Mr.—Don, I mean.” Sandy felt a warm glow at this mark of -friendship. - -“One method of making an aerial survey is by means of photographs taken -from a plane or helicopter,” the geologist explained. “A stereoscopic -color camera is used to provide a true three-dimensional picture of the -area in which you are interested. Such photographs show the pitch and -strike of surface rock strata and give you some idea of what formations -lie beneath them. In addition, prospectors use an airborne magnetometer. -You know what a magnetometer is, don’t you?” - -“It measures small differences in the earth’s magnetic field.” - -“Right! I see that you listened when your dad talked about geology. -Well, you fly a magnetometer back and forth in a checkerboard pattern -over any area where photographs have shown rock formations favorable for -oil deposits. Heavy basement strata are more magnetic than the -sedimentary rocks that cover them. So, when those igneous basement rocks -bulge toward the surface of the earth, your magnetometer reading goes -up. That gives you a double check because, if the basement bulges, the -sedimentary rocks that may contain oil have to bulge too. And such a -bulge, or anticline, may trap that oil in big enough quantities to make -it worth your while to drill for it. - -“Then, if your money holds out—aerial surveys cost a young fortune—you -may run a triple check with a scintillation counter to see whether -there’s a radiation halo around the anticline. One complication with -that is that you have to remove the radium dials from the instrument -panel of your plane to keep leakage from interfering with your -scintillation readings.” - -A loud honking from the rear of the column caused Donovan to stop the -jeep. Going back, they found that the new drill truck had slipped into a -ditch and was teetering dangerously. - -Although they had been traveling through such wild and arid country that -it seemed impossible that even prairie dogs could live there, quite a -crowd collected while they struggled and sweated for half an hour to get -the machine back on what passed for a road. First came a wagon pulled by -two scrawny horses and carrying a whole Navajo family—father, mother, -two children and a goat. An ancient truck with three more Indians aboard -pulled up in a cloud of dust. Then came two Navajos on horseback. - -Ralph recognized one of the riders and gravely offered him a cigarette -which he held crosswise between his first and second fingers. - -“Hosteen Buray, we need your help,” said the driller after his gift had -been accepted. - -The rider said a few words to the other bystanders and things began to -happen. The riders galloped away and came back dragging a small tree -trunk that could be used to raise the truck axle. The children gathered -sagebrush to stuff under the wheels. The woman milked her goat into a -pan and presented the steaming drink to the thirsty oilmen. Finally, -everyone got behind the machine and pushed with many shouts and grunts. - -With Ralph’s expert hand at the wheel, the truck struggled back onto the -trail. - -After receiving “thank yous” from all concerned, the Navajos stood aside -and waved in silence as the column drove away. - -This time, Sandy asked to ride with the driller because, as he -explained, “I’ve got a lot of questions about things.” - -“Shoot,” said Ralph. - -“Why didn’t anyone offer to pay those people for helping us?” - -“They would have been insulted. That’s how Cavanaugh got in bad with -them in the first place—by insisting that they take money for -everything. Navajos are proud. Next question.” - -“Why did you hand out cigarettes in that funny way, instead of just -offering your pack?” - -“You never point anything at an Indian. It might be a gun.” - -“Oh....” - -“Anything else on your mind, Sandy?” - -“Are all Navajos named Hosteen something-or-other?” - -“Hosteen means ‘Mister.’ Most white men don’t use the term. The Navajos -resent that, too.” - -“I guess I’ve got a lot to learn,” the boy sighed. - -“You’re doing all right.” Ralph slapped him on the knee. - - -They made camp in a forest of pines not far from a dry wash that ran -into the San Juan River gorge, and started work at once. Donovan split -the party into two groups. One, which he headed, loaded the heavy -magnetometer and gravimeter equipment into a truck and set out to check -formations revealed by the aerial studies. Ralph and Sam Stack, a burly -surveyor who had arrived with the portable drill rig, took charge of a -transit, plane table and Brunton compass. They named Sandy and three -others to carry stadia rods and help them make a careful surface survey -of the vicinity where the oil anticline was believed to be. - -Then began one of the hardest weeks of grinding labor that Sandy had -ever put in. All day long he climbed over rocks and fought briary -thickets while moving his rod to spots where it could be seen from the -various transit positions. His experience on Boy Scout geology field -trips kept him from getting lost and enabled him to chip a number of -rock formations for analysis. But it was only after he returned to camp -at night and propped his tired eyes open with his fingers while watching -Don, Ralph and Stack plot lines on a topographical map of the region, -that he could form any idea of what was being done. - -Hall joined them on the third evening and watched without comment as the -work went on. He looked gray and tired. - -“You seem bushed, John,” said Donovan after they had added the day’s -data to the map. “Any trouble?” - -“Plenty, Don. At the last minute the bank refused a loan. It said that -two wells didn’t make a profitable field, out here in the middle of -nowhere. I had to trade a two-thirds interest in the other lease to -Midray before I got my money!” - -“That’s the way the oil squirts,” Ralph said philosophically. “So we’re -in partnership with a big company.” - -“I’m solvent, anyway.” Hall shrugged. “But we won’t make our fortunes -unless that first lease turns out to have the largest field in San Juan -County. Of course, if this one pays off, too....” His voice trailed -away. - -“I don’t know about that, John.” Donovan bit his thin lips. “We’re -finding some underground anomalies, but, confound it, I don’t feel right -about the situation. For one thing, the plants that usually grow in the -neighborhood of a deposit just aren’t in evidence. We’ve found an -anticline, all right, but I have a hunch there’s mighty little oil in -it.” - -“Excuse me,” Sandy interrupted from his seat at the end of the map -table, “but if you find a dome, or anticline, doesn’t it just have to -hold oil?” - -“Not at all,” the geologist answered with a wave of his pipe. “The oil -might have escaped before the bulge was formed by movements of the -earth’s crust. Or perhaps the top of the anticline had a crack, or -fault, through which the oil seeped to the surface ages ago.” - -“You are going to run a seismic survey, aren’t you?” Hall asked. - -“Yes, we’ll start tomorrow if the weather holds out. The radio says -thunderstorms are brewing, though.” - -“Do the best you can.” Hall rose and stretched. “I’m going to turn in -now. I feel lousy.” - - -Sandy didn’t sleep well, although he, too, was so tired that his bones -ached. He was up at sunrise—except that there was no sunrise. The sky -looked like a bowl of brass and the heat was the worst he had met with -since his arrival in the Southwest. - -After a hurried breakfast they drove the portable drill rig, instrument -truck and shooting truck to the anticline which lay, circled by tall -yellow buttes, about three miles from the camp site. - -Once there, Ralph used a small diamond drill to make a hole through -surface dirt and rubble. The rest of the crew dug a line of shallow pits -with their spades. These were evenly spaced from “ground zero” near the -hole Ralph had drilled to a distance from it of about 2,000 feet. While -two men tamped a dynamite charge into the “shot hole,” other crew -members buried small electronic detectors called geophones in the pits, -and connected them, with long insulated wires, to the seismograph in the -instrument truck. - -Just as the job was finished, a roaring squall sent everyone dashing for -cover. - -“We’re going to set off a man-made earthquake in a moment, Sandy,” -Donovan said when the dripping boy climbed into the instrument truck. -“Watch carefully. When I give the word, Ralph will explode the dynamite. -The shock will send vibrations down to the rock layers beneath us. Those -vibrations will bounce back to the line of geophones and be relayed to -the seismograph here. Since shock waves travel through the ground at -different speeds and on different paths, depending on the strata that -they strike, they will trace different kinds of lines on this strip of -sensitized paper. I can interpret those lines and get a pretty good -picture of what the situation is down below.” - -“You mean you can make an earthquake with dynamite?” Sandy cried. - -“A mighty little one. But it will be big enough for our purposes. This -seismograph measures changes of one millionth of an inch in the position -of the earth’s surface.” He started the wide tape rolling, and picked up -a field telephone that connected the three trucks. - -“All ready, Ralph?” he asked. “Fine! I’ll give you a ten-second -countdown. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. -Shoot!” - -There was a subdued roar deep underground. A geyser of earth and -splintered rock spouted from the shot hole. The seismograph pens, which -had been tracing steady parallel lines on the paper, began tracing -jagged lines instead. - -“All right, Ralph,” Donovan spoke into the phone. “If the rain lets up, -have the boys string another line of geophones and we’ll cross-check.” - -They got in one more shot before the increasing thunderstorm made -further work impossible. Then Ralph and Hall sprinted over from the -shooting truck and spent the next hour listening while Donovan explained -the squiggles on the graph. - -“So you’re not too happy about the situation, Don?” the producer asked -at last. - -“I hate to say so, John,” the geologist answered, “but things don’t look -too good. We’ve found a dome, all right, but I’m afraid it has a crack -in its top. Look at this.” He put away his magnifying glass, lighted up, -and pointed his pipe stem at a sharp break in the inked lines. “I can’t -take the responsibility for telling you to spend a hundred thousand -dollars or so drilling five thousand feet into a cockeyed formation like -that.” - -“Once a poor boy, always a poor boy, I guess.” Hall shrugged. - -“Oh, I haven’t given up yet,” said Donovan grimly. “The aerial survey -shows another possible anomaly about three miles west of here. I’ll do -some work on that before we call it quits.” - -“Take your time,” said his employer. - -“Hey!” Ralph, who had been standing at the trailer window, staring -glumly into the sheets of rain that swept toward them across the San -Juan gorge, spoke up sharply. “Take a look at that river, will you?” - -They joined him at the window and found that the stream had doubled in -size since the rain had started. Now it was a raging yellow torrent that -filled the gorge from border to border. - -“It beats me,” said Hall, “how it can rain cats and dogs in this country -one day and flood everything, but be dry as dust the next. When the -government finishes building its series of dams around here and all this -water is impounded for irrigation, you’ll see the desert blossom like -the rose, I’ll bet.” - -“The rain all runs off and does no good now, that’s a sure thing,” -Donovan agreed. - -“Look,” Ralph interrupted. “There’s a boat or barge or something coming -down the river.” - -“You’re crazy,” said Donovan. “Nothing could live in that—Say!” He -rubbed mist off the window and peered out into the downpour. “Something -_is_ coming down. You’re right!” - -They stood shoulder to shoulder and stared in horror. Around a bend in -the stream a heavily laden homemade barge had plunged into view. A vivid -flash of lightning showed one man standing upright in the stern. Blond -hair flying, he was struggling to steer the bucking craft with a long -sweep. - -“That’s Pepper March!” Sandy shouted as another flash spotlighted the -craft. “He must be trying to prove that the San Juan is navigable.” - -“He won’t last five miles,” Ralph snapped. “I’ve got to go after the -young fool. Grab some rope, Sandy, and come along.” - -There was no rope in the truck, so Sandy snatched up a coil of heavy -wire cable used to lower electric logs into test wells. With it over his -shoulder, he tore out into the storm after the driller. - -They got the jeep going after considerable cranking and headed -downstream. It was a nip and tuck race since there was no trail along -the gorge. But Ralph put the car in four-wheel drive and tore along over -rocks and through flooded washes while Sandy hung onto the windshield -frame for dear life. Finally they managed to pull ahead of the tossing -barge. - -“There’s a rapids about five miles downstream,” Ralph shouted above the -thunder that rolled back and forth like cannon shots among the buttes -and cliffs. “He’ll never go farther than that. The only thing I can do -is to stand by there and try to throw him a line. It’s a long chance. -Thank heaven and the water spirits that I learned to rope horses when I -was a kid.” - -They reached the rapids with only seconds to spare. The Indian fastened -one end of the cable to the power takeoff at the rear of the jeep and -coiled the rest of it with great care at the edge of the gorge. Then he -stood, braced against the howling wind, swinging the heavy log in his -right hand. - -“Here he comes,” Ralph said. “What a shame that damned fools often look -like heroes. Your friend is probably thinking he’s Lewis, Clark and Paul -Revere rolled into one. Stand by to start the takeoff and reel him in if -I hook him, Sandy.... There he goes. There he goes! Stand by!” - -Pepper was fighting the rapids now, like some yellow-haired Viking out -of the past. It was no use. Halfway through, the awkward barge hit a -submerged rock. Slowly its bow reared into the air. The heavy pipe with -which it had been loaded started cascading into the boiling water. - -Pepper had enough presence of mind to drop the useless sweep, and -scramble out of the path of the lengths of pipe as they flew like -jackstraws. As he managed to grab the uptilting rail, Ralph’s mighty arm -swung back and forward. The end of the cable carrying the log paid out -smoothly. Out and down it sped in a long arc. - -It struck the boat and slid slowly along the rapidly sinking rail. After -one wild look upward, Pepper understood what had happened. He snatched -the wire as it went by and looped it twice around his waist. - -“Haul away,” Ralph whooped to Sandy. “We’ve caught our fish.” - -As the jeep’s motor roared and the takeoff spun, Pepper was snatched -from his perch and dragged helter-skelter through the wild waters. -Minutes later Ralph dragged him over the edge of the cliff, choking and -half drowned. - -“No real damage except a few nasty bruises,” the driller grunted after -he had applied artificial respiration with more vigor than was really -needed. “How do you feel, bud?” - -“Awful!” Pepper groaned. Then he amazed them by sitting up and glaring -at them. - -“That was ... a stinking trick,” he croaked after he had spat out a -mouthful of dirty water. “Stringing cable ... capsizing my barge ... I’d -have made it.” - -“Whaaat?” Sandy hardly believed his ears. - -“I’d have made it, I tell you! I would have!” Pepper wailed -hysterically. “Then you ... then you ...” He retched miserably. - -“Listen, kid,” Ralph snapped as he half-carried the boy to the jeep. -“Your Red Cavanaugh ought to be strung up for egging you on to try a -stunt like that.” - -“No!” Tears dripped down Pepper’s dirty cheeks. “My idea. He didn’t -know.” - -“Bunk! You mean he didn’t know you had built a barge and loaded it with -pipe? Don’t lie! Your boss is a stinking, no-good, lowdown louse.” - -“Oh, no!” Pepper tried to pull free, then leaned against the side of the -car and clung there like a half-drowned monkey. “Red’s best boss a man -ever had. He’s ... he’s wonderful.... Likes good music ... dogs ... -Indians. I’d die for Red.” - -“That’s the point.” Ralph rummaged in the back of the jeep, found -Maisie’s mangy hide, and wrapped it around the shivering boy. “You -almost did die. Cavanaugh’s next door to a murderer.” - -Pepper stared at them as if he were waking from a dream. - -“You really believe that, Sandy?” he gulped weakly. - -“I know it, Pepper.” Torn between pity and anger, Sandy gripped the -blond boy’s arm. “Cavanaugh’s a crook!” - -“Crook?” Pepper babbled. “No, no!” His knees sagged and they just -managed to catch him as he fell. - -“A strange boy,” said Ralph as they drove back to camp with the would-be -Viking sleeping the sleep of exhaustion between them. “He’s in trouble, -some way. Maybe he was trying to prove himself, like young Indians once -did before they could become braves.” - - - - - CHAPTER ELEVEN - Serendipity - - -Pepper was black, blue, stiff and somewhat chastened when he ate -breakfast with Ralph and Sandy the next morning. Also, he was disturbed -by the fact that Cavanaugh’s plane had come over at dawn, circled the -wrecked barge in the rapids for several minutes, and then scooted -eastward without landing. - -“He must have known I planned to run the river,” the blond boy admitted. -“But why do you suppose he didn’t stop to ask whether you folks had seen -me?” - -“Probably was afraid to.” Ralph attacked a big plate of ham and -scrambled eggs. “Figures he may be blamed for letting you drown, so he’s -gone home to frame an alibi. Won’t he be surprised when you show up in -one of our supply trucks!” - -“Gee whiz! Do you really think he’s that bad, Mr. Salmon?” - -“I think he’s worse. See here, kid. Why don’t you stop working for that -heel and come over here? I’m sure John will give you a roustabout job.” - -“No.” Pepper shook his head stubbornly. “I signed a contract and I can’t -go back on my word. Besides, I haven’t seen him do anything really bad. -I’ll admit that some of the things he does seem, well, sort of queer. -But maybe you’re just too suspicious.” - -“Maybe.” Ralph washed down a hunk of Ching Chao’s good apple pie with -half a cup of steaming coffee. “Well, it’s your funeral.” - -“I’ll keep my eyes open after this.” Pepper rose as a honk from the -truck told him it was time to get going. “Thanks for everything. And I -really do mean for everything.” - -The Indian stood up and stretched like a lazy panther as he watched -their visitor depart. “Crazy kid,” he said. “Well, it’s time for us to -be getting back to the mines, Sandy. Don’s staying here for a few days -to run some final tests. He has assigned our group to start surveying -the other structure. So pick up your rock hammer and stadia rod. Hike!” - -The new location proved to be several miles north of the river in a -tumbled and desolate region of weathered buttes and washes that already -were dry as bone. - -“Geologists call those buttes ‘diatremes,’” Stack, the surveyor, -explained to the crew as they unloaded equipment at a central spot. -“They stick up like sore thumbs because they’re really vents from -ancient volcanoes. The lava they’re made of doesn’t erode much although -the surrounding sedimentary rocks have been worn away in the course of -ages. There are at least 250 diatremes scattered through this Colorado -Plateau area, and some of them are rich in minerals. So keep your eyes -open while you’re prowling.” - -“Prowling” was exactly the word for what the crew did, Sandy decided -after a few days in the broiling sun. He had to admit that the territory -was beautiful, in its wild way, but he decided that it was more fit for -mountain goats than human beings. More and more, as he slowly worked his -way from one rod location to another, measured the slope of exposed -strata with his Brunton compass, or chipped rock samples for analysis -back at camp, he began to dream of the soft green hills and winding -streams near Valley View. - -His homesickness grew worse when Hall brought him a letter from Quiz. - - Dear Sandy, - - I sure do envy you, out there in God’s country. Things are mighty dull - around here, although I do get some time for swimming and tennis, now - that Dad is able to hobble around in his cast and help out at the - restaurant. - - Last Sunday we had a picnic out by the lake. The fishing was swell. - And there was a dance at the pavilion afterward. I’m not much for - dancing, but I know you like to. Still, you must be having plenty of - fun out at the well. - -“Fun!” Sandy exploded as he reread that paragraph. He was bathing his -blistered feet in the first spring he had found that day and batting at -deer flies that seemed determined to eat him alive. Then he read on: - - I haven’t forgotten about Cavanaugh. Dad says he’s a lone wolf and - that nobody knows much about him. He came here about two years ago, - flashed a lot of money around, and built his lab. Joined the Country - Club, Rotary, and so on. Impressed a lot of people with his football - talk. Makes good equipment and has several research contracts that - take him to Washington quite frequently. His employees think he’s a - stuffed shirt, too. - - I tried to look up his sports record at the library, but the - newspapers that should tell about his big game are missing from the - files. When Dad gets better, he says I can take a day or two off and - see what I can find in the San Francisco library. I’ll let you know. - Funny about those newspapers, isn’t it? - - Give my regards to the gang. I sure do wish I was there instead of - here. - As ever, - Quiz - -After he had finished reading Sandy sat for a long time with his chin in -his hands, thinking. The survey wasn’t going well, he knew. Yesterday, -Hall and Donovan had paid them a visit and shaken their heads at the map -that Ralph and Stack were drawing. - -“This isn’t an anticline, John,” the geologist had said. “What we have -here is fault that has caused a stratigraphic trap. That is, layers of -rock on one side of the fault line have been lifted above those on the -other side of the crack by some old earthquake. The slip sealed off the -upper end of what may be an oil-bearing layer with the edge of a layer -of hard, impervious rock. If you drill here—” he pointed with his pipe -stem—“you may hit a small pool. Nothing spectacular, you understand, but -it ought to more than pay expenses.” - -“I don’t know whether I should take the chance.” Hall had shaken his -gray head. “I need something better than this to gamble on, the way -things are. Tell you what, Don. There’s going to be a bid session at -Window Rock next Monday. Keep the crew working here for a few days -longer while I drive down and see if I can shake loose a better lease. -Ralph, you’d better come along. I hear that the Navajo and Hopi Councils -will have some sort of joint powwow at the Rock and I’ll want you to -keep an eye on it. You come along too, Sandy, and bring the ‘ear.’ I -have a hunch that a lot of things are about to pop.” - -“Will we have room for Kitty?” Ralph asked. “I dropped over to see her -after work yesterday and she told me the school is closing Monday and -Tuesday because there’s going to be a big Squaw Dance in the -neighborhood. She wants to go home and get her best clothes to wear to -it. She could drive her own car, of course....” - -“Kitty’s good company,” Hall had replied. “I’d be glad to have her -along.” - -A distant hail jerked Sandy out of his reverie. He put on his shoes, -picked up his rod, hammer and compass, and started climbing over jagged -rocks to the top of a crumbling low butte that was to be the next survey -location. The going wasn’t too bad because one side of the cone had -collapsed, thus providing a slope of debris up which he could clamber -with fair speed. - -When Stack’s transit came in sight, Sandy placed the stadia rod upright -so that it could be seen against the skyline and started the slow -business of moving it about in response to the surveyor’s hand signals. - -Several times he stopped and listened intently. Off to his right, hidden -in the underbrush that choked the crater, he thought he heard some large -animal moving. A deer, probably, he tried to reassure himself, although -he remembered that one of the other crewmen had had a nasty brush with a -bobcat several days previously. - -“That’s it, Sandy,” the surveyor in the valley bellowed through cupped -hands at last. “Call it a day.” - -The boy was beating a quiet retreat down the slope when a tired bleat -stopped him in his tracks. The animal in there was either a sheep or a -calf, and it seemed to be in trouble. - -“Better take a look,” said Sandy. (He had got into the habit of talking -to himself these last few lonely weeks. The noise seemed to keep the -homesickness away.) - -It was a calf, he found, when he had fought his way into the thicket. -And it seemed to be sick. First it would nibble at some plants where it -stood, then, lifting its feet high and putting them down gingerly, it -would move slowly to another location and repeat the performance. Every -so often it let out that piteous bleat. - -“Poor thing,” Sandy murmured. “Maybe I ought to take it back to camp.” - -He fished a length of cord out of his knapsack, looped it around the -calf’s neck and tugged. The animal gave him a glassy stare and wobbled -forward. - -“Probably a Navajo stray,” he said. “Its owners will be looking for it.” - -When he reached the temporary camp half an hour later, Ralph took one -look at the calf and let out an astonished whoop. - -“Loco,” he shouted. “Hey, gang! Come look what Sandy found.” - -Men came running from all directions. - -“Where did you find it?” Stack demanded. - -“Up there. On top of that butte.” Sandy pointed. - -“Was it eating anything at the time?” Ralph snapped. - -“Yes. Some plants that looked sort of like ferns, only they had little -bell-like blossoms hanging from stalks in their centers.” - -“Locoweed,” the Indian crowed. “_Astragalus Pattersoni_, Donovan calls -it. Sandy, you may have found just what the doctor ordered to get John -out of his pinch. I’ll get a Geiger counter. The rest of you round up -some flashlights, sacks and spades. We’d better take a look at this -right away.” - -“What about my calf?” Sandy objected. - -“Oh, stake it out somewhere and give it some water. It may recover. It’s -just drugged. Indians used to chew locoweed when they went down in their -kivas, you know. They said it made them see visions in which they talked -to the spirits. Eat too much of the stuff, though, and you’re a goner.” - - -Two hours later, after having dug up most of the crater, the men tramped -wearily back to camp in the light of the rising moon. The sacks they -carried on their backs bulged with loads of black earth mixed with -yellow carnotite crystals that made the Geiger chatter madly. - -Hall was just driving into camp as they arrived. - -“We’ve found a rich uranium lode or lens, I think, John,” Ralph shouted -to him. For once he had lost his Indian calm and was almost dancing with -excitement. - -“You don’t say,” yawned the producer as he dragged himself out of the -car. - -“Well!” Ralph stared, openmouthed, at this cool reception. “What’s the -matter, boss? Don’t you care?” - -“Where are we going to sell the ore?” Hall asked gently. - -“Oh!” Ralph wilted. “I hadn’t thought of that. The government only buys -from people who have mills.” - -“Sure. A uranium strike these days is just like money in a safe for -which you have lost the combination.” - -“Excuse me, Mr. Hall,” Stack interrupted, “but doesn’t Midray own an -interest in a uranium mill?” - -“Oh, yes.” Hall smiled grimly at the surveyor. “Midray owns an interest -in most everything. It will be delighted to help me develop the lode—in -exchange for three-fourths of the profits. - -“That’s better than nothing, though.” He straightened his shoulders. “A -uranium strike will shorten the odds enough so I can take a chance on -drilling a well here. Why, what am I grousing about? This could be a -real stroke of luck. How did you happen to find it?” - -When he had heard the story, Hall slapped Sandy on the back. - -“That’s what’s called serendipity,” he said, chuckling. “You remember -the three Princes of Serendip in the fairy story: on their travels they -always found things they weren’t looking for. Congratulations, Sandy. -You have the makings of a real wildcatter.” - -But, as the boy went off to take care of his sick calf, he knew that his -employer had been putting on an act. Serendipity or no, John Hall was -still running a poor-boy outfit. - - - - - CHAPTER TWELVE - Cavanaugh Makes a Mistake - - -Hall had completely recovered his good spirits by the time that Ralph -brought Kitty to camp at dawn. Just as the sun rose the little party set -out for Window Rock in a holiday mood. Hall made one stop for a brief -conference with Donovan. Then he drove on to his base camp, arriving in -time for breakfast. - -Sandy could hardly recognize the place where he had worked such a short -time before. Number Two well had been opened and connected to the feeder -pipeline through a Christmas tree, while its derrick had been moved to a -new location. Three big new Midray rigs were being erected at other -spots on the property. Still more derricks were going up on surrounding -leases. This was rapidly becoming an important field. - -Hall had a short talk with the Midray superintendent, a big man who -reminded Sandy of Cavanaugh and who acted as if he owned the place. Then -they were on their way again. - -“The lease looks like Times Square,” Hall grunted as he headed the jeep -toward Shiprock. “Makes me uncomfortable. I like to work where there’s -plenty of room to swing a wildcat.” - -“I bet you still prefer to use a burro when you go prospecting, you old -sourdough,” Kitty teased him. - -“Well, a burro never runs out of gas or breaks a spring, and it has a -better horn than a jeep,” Hall said, grinning. “When a burro brays, even -the mountains have to listen. That’s why he’s called a Rocky Mountain -canary, I suppose.” - -They reached Route 666 in good time, turned south between Shiprock Peak -and Hogback Mountain, and sailed down through the picturesque Chuskas -past road signs that beckoned toward far-off, mysterious places like -Toadlena, Beautiful Mountain, Coyote Wash, Nakaibito, Pueblo Bonito -(Lovely Village) and Ojo Caliente (Hot Eye). - -Kitty made the time pass quickly by singing the praises of the desert, -pointing out spots of historic interest, and telling them Navajo -legends. - -“The Wind People, who ride the lightning, own all of these box canyons -and hilltops,” she said half seriously. “No Navajo will build his hogan -near such places, or where lightning has struck. If he did, he thinks -the Wind People would give him bad headaches.” - -“It gives me a bad headache trying to understand why your Navajos love a -godforsaken place like this,” Ralph said. - -“Your Utes live here too!” Kitty’s eyes flashed. - -“Only because white men drove us off our good land farther north,” Ralph -snapped. “We put up a good fight before they expelled us, too. My -grandfather was one of Chief Douglas’ warriors, back in 1879, when the -Utes surrounded and almost destroyed an entire U.S. Army detachment that -invaded our White River reservation.” - -“The Navajos got _their_ reservation back,” Kitty pointed out. - -“Don’t squabble, children,” Hall said and added, to break the tension, -“I heard a rumor that you’re going to the Squaw Dance together next -week. Is that right?” - -Kitty blushed and Ralph nodded. - -“That’s the same as becoming engaged, isn’t it?” - -“If our uncles approve,” Kitty admitted. - -“Well, here’s a tip from an old bachelor: Don’t bicker about things that -happened long ago, and don’t hold grudges. We’re all Americans today, no -matter how our skins are colored.” - -“I’ll be good,” Kitty promised. “And that reminds me. Will you all be -good and come to dinner with Mother and me tonight?” - -When they pulled up to the motel at Window Rock, an Indian wearing a -Hopi hairband rose from where he had been squatting near the entrance -and handed Ralph a message. The driller read it and turned to the others -with a frown. - -“It’s from Chief Ponytooth,” he explained. “He says the Hopis and -Navajos are having a session at the Council Hall tonight and he wants me -there as a representative of the Utes. Looks as if I’ll have to eat and -run.” - -“Dinner will be early,” Kitty promised. - -“Wait here till I make a quick visit to the Indian Agency,” Hall said. -“Then we’ll walk over to your house. I’m tired of riding.” - -Sandy had expected that Kitty might live in an eight-sided wooden hogan -such as he had seen in other parts of the reservation. Instead, she took -them to a neat white cottage surrounded by palo-verde trees. - -Mrs. Gonzales was an attractive widow who might have passed for Kitty’s -older sister, except that she was somewhat heavier and her skin was much -darker. She greeted the two older men as if they were members of the -family and made Sandy feel at home immediately. First, she showed them -around the tiny forge and workshop where she apparently earned a good -living by making lovely silver buckles and heavy medallions called -conchas which she sold to tourists. Then, after learning that Ralph had -to leave soon, she rushed dinner to the table. It featured several -highly spiced Mexican and Indian dishes and was delicious. - -After coffee, they stood under the stars for a few minutes on a patio -looking toward the great black hole in Window Rock. - -“What is the light that twinkles on the cliff these days?” Mrs. Gonzales -asked as she pointed upward with pursed lips. - -“Bad man!” she sniffed after Hall explained that it was Cavanaugh’s -light beam. - -“What do you know about him, Mother?” Ralph asked. - -“Nothing good.” She crossed her arms in the wide sleeves of her -embroidered blouse to keep the evening chill away. “He came here in the -early ’50s, looking for uranium. Pablo, my poor husband, was a -prospector too in those days, and knew every foot of this reservation. -Cavanaugh went into partnership with him, but somehow, he never got -round to signing a contract. - -“They made a strike too—one of the biggest. Cavanaugh sold the claim for -much money, just before the government stopped buying ore. He forgot all -his promises then, and went away. Pablo’s heart broke when the man he -thought was his friend betrayed him.” She sighed deeply. - -“Now Cavanaugh has returned,” she went on at last, “like the Spaniards -who used to descend on us Indians like locusts when they needed more -money. He is not good for this country.” - -“He certainly is riding a high horse today,” Hall agreed. “When I was at -the Agency he came stalking in with Pepper behind him, leading two of -his big dogs on leashes. He looked just like the cat that ate the canary -as he submitted a pile of sealed bids a foot high. I sure do wish I knew -what he was up to.” - -“If I didn’t have to attend the Council meeting,” Ralph said -regretfully, “I could take the ‘ear’ up to his camp and find out, -maybe.” - -Kitty insisted on walking them back to town. She and Ralph went -arm-in-arm until Hall met another oilman, got into a business -discussion, and called his driller back to take part in it. Sandy and -the girl continued on together. - -Cavanaugh came out of the motel as they approached. Quite evidently, the -redhaired man had had a few drinks. - -“Well!” he said as he recognized them. “If it isn’t the squaw who kicked -me out of school, with her little squaw man!” He stood in their path, -swaying ever so slightly. - -“Get out of our way, please,” Sandy said, fighting down his fury at the -words. - -For answer, Cavanaugh swung a brawny arm and struck the boy across the -mouth with the back of a hairy hand. - -Sandy staggered from the unexpected blow, then charged, fists flying. He -connected several times, but he might as well have hit a brick wall. His -155 pounds made no impression on Cavanaugh’s 200-plus. - -“So you think you can fight the man who made three touchdowns against -California,” Cavanaugh bawled drunkenly. “Well, take this for being an -Injun lover!” He swung a short right to the jaw that snapped Sandy’s -head back. “And this for your Injun-loving boss!” He followed with a -stunning left. “And this for your snooty Ute!” He swung a haymaker that -smashed through the boy’s weakened guard and hit his solar plexus like a -bolt of lightning. - -As he lay in the gutter, gasping desperately for breath, Sandy thought -he heard the sound of running feet. - -“And this,” Cavanaugh said deliberately, “is just part of what I owe -Donovan for calling me a liar. Won’t he look like a fool tomorrow if my -high sign comes through?” - -Through bleared eyes, Sandy saw his enemy push Kitty aside and swing a -heavy boot at his ribs. - -At that moment, Ralph plunged into the little circle of lamplight. The -Indian gripped Cavanaugh by one beefy shoulder and spun him around. - -“This,” he raged, “is for a skunk who picks on people half his size and -kicks them when they’re down!” - -He dealt the bully a smashing blow under the ear. - -“Fight! Fight!” somebody in the motel yelled. In an instant the building -poured forth a mob of oilmen. They gathered in a circle around the -combatants and shouted encouragement. A few of them egged Cavanaugh on, -but the majority were rooting for his opponent. - -Sandy sat up groggily, dabbed at his bleeding lips, and watched the -battle with growing excitement. Ralph was many pounds lighter than the -redhead, but he made up for that by being fast as a rattler. He avoided -the big man’s efforts to go into a clinch that would give him time to -clear his head of that first murderous punch. He danced about as his -ancestors must have done at their buffalo ceremonials. He struck again -and again—short, stabbing blows that soon cut Cavanaugh’s face to -ribbons and closed his right eye. - -The bully was no coward though, Sandy was surprised to discover. He -fought doggedly, and managed to get in some damaging blows to the body -that made his supporters cheer. But Ralph’s long reach held him too far -away. He could not use his great strength to advantage. And it was plain -that he was badly out of condition. Before three minutes had passed he -was becoming winded. - -“Kill the big bum, Fisheater,” a Navajo whooped from the edge of the -crowd. “He asked for it. Kill ’im.” - -“With pleasure,” Ralph answered. “Watch this, benighted Navajo. I -learned it in Uncle Sam’s Navy.” - -He started a right, almost from the pavement. Up and up it came, -completely under Cavanaugh’s guard. It landed on the point of his chin -with a crack like that of a whip! - -The big man threw out his arms wildly, rocked back on his heels, and -came crashing down, as a tree falls, into the gutter beside Sandy. He -scrabbled about there for a moment, managed to get halfway to his knees, -then slid forward on his face. Out! - -The Navajo threw his big black cowboy hat on the street, jumped up and -down on it in utter joy, and sent warwhoop after warwhoop echoing -through the little town. - -“Hand me my coat, John,” Ralph said to the producer, who had been -coaching him from the sidelines. “If I don’t hurry, I’ll be late for -that meeting.” - -Kitty, who had stood close beside Sandy throughout the battle, -alternately wringing her hands and jumping up and down with excitement -as Ralph seemed to be getting the worst or best of it, now ran forward. -As the crowd cheered again, she hugged her man until he had to beg her -to spare his bruised ribs. - -“Kitty,” said Hall, when Ralph had been carried away on the shoulders of -admiring Navajos and Hopis who had run over from the Council Hall to -witness the fracas, “will you take Sandy home and patch him up? He has a -pretty deep cut on his cheekbone. Better drive him over in the jeep, if -he feels like he looks. - -“I’ve got to talk to Ken White about Cavanaugh. This situation is -getting out of hand. I’ll come over as soon as I can.” - -Half an hour later, Sandy pushed aside the cold compresses that Mrs. -Gonzales had been applying to his face and sat bolt upright on the couch -where he had been lying. - -“Kitty,” he gasped. “I just thought! What was it Cavanaugh said about a -high sign or something?” - -“When he was getting ready to kick you, you mean?” she frowned. - -“Yes. It had to do with Donovan, I think. I was pretty groggy at the -time.” - -“Oh! He said something like ‘Won’t Donovan feel like a fool tomorrow if -my high sign comes through!’” - -“That’s it! That’s it!” Sandy yelled as he pushed Mrs. Gonzales’ -fluttering hands away and scrambled to his feet. “It could only mean -that he’s expecting some sort of message tonight over his light beam. -Ralph’s tied up, so I’ve got to go up there and try to find out what it -is.” - -“Don’t be silly,” said Kitty. “You’ve taken a bad beating. You’re in no -condition to go anywhere.” - -“But I’ve got to go,” he pleaded. “This may mean everything to John, and -Don, and, yes, to you and Ralph too. I’m the only one who knows how to -operate the ‘ear.’ I’m going right now. And you’re going to help me!” - - - - - CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Think Like a Dog - - -“But _how_ do I go about feeling like a dog?” Sandy groaned after he had -explained his plan of action. - -“You shouldn’t have any trouble about that.” Kitty smiled tenderly as -she patted the last strip of bandage in place on his cheek. “You must -feel awful.” - -“That’s not what I mean. When Ralph went into Cavanaugh’s camp at Elbow -Rock he wore a dog skin and made himself smell like a dog. But he said -that wasn’t enough. He also had to feel and think like one. There’s a -skin in the jeep. And you must know a kennel where I can roll around and -get the smell. But how about the rest of it? - -“Of course I’ve read _The Call of the Wild_, but that’s only Jack -London’s _idea_ of how dogs think. What I’ve got to find out quick is -how they really feel.” - -“I am an Indian,” Mrs. Gonzales spoke up suddenly. “Indians are wise in -the ways of animals. You have heard that Indians of the old days were -the world’s best horsemen, although they used no saddles, and sometimes -no bridles. Why? I say it was because they could talk with their horses. -Yes, and they honored their mounts as no other people have ever done by -printing what was called a pat hand on the rumps of those who helped -them win battles.” She held up the palm of her hand to show what she -meant. - -“Then there are our totems. Animals, all of them. To be a member of the -buffalo clan, a young brave had to study the wild herds until he knew -their every thought—what frightened them, what pastures they preferred, -their mating habits. All that. - -“What of the great cattle and sheep herds in which modern Navajos take -such pride? They thrive where it seems only jack rabbits could live -because their herdsmen understand their every need, care for them as if -they were children, and weep, as for children, when they are injured or -die. - -“And consider the Hopi snake dances. Why should the rattlers not bite -the dancers, except that they are friends? You do not believe me, -Sandy?” - -“Well,” he gulped, “it’s just that I am not an Indian....” - -“But white men have been the friends of dogs since time began. You can -learn to remember how a cave man felt when he and his dog slept back to -back to protect themselves against the howling things outside in the -night. You want to be among dogs, Sandy? Very well, I will call them -here.” - -She closed her black eyes and sat swaying slowly from side to side, -making an almost inaudible whining, snuffling noise through her nose. - -A dog barked questioningly in the distance. Another answered, nearer. -Within minutes, three scrawny mutts were scratching at the screen door -of the cottage. - -“You must remember that dogs are always hungry,” Mrs. Gonzales said as -she let the animals in and went to the kitchen to find scraps for them, -“so you must think of food at all times. You must remember that they are -loyal, even though their master beats them, so you must not let your -hatred or distrust of Cavanaugh into your mind when you approach his -camp. You must be sleepy ... oh so sleepy ... so that you do not wake -them from their dreams of chasing rabbits, or bigger game. - -“Also,” she said thoughtfully, “it would be wise to remove all your -clothing except the dog skin before you approach. There will not be so -much man smell to overcome. Now play with these dogs for a time to get -their scent on you. Then Kitty will drive you as near the camp as she -dares. And may the blessings of the good Jesus and Mary, and the water -and wind people, ride with you.” - - -Kitty was at the wheel as the jeep skirted the town and headed up a -steep trail that had been chopped through the mesquite for the benefit -of tourists who liked to snap their everlasting cameras from the top of -the Rock. It was much too late for tourists to be out, however, so they -had the road to themselves. This was a good thing, since they dared not -use the car lights and had to depend on what little illumination was -provided by a half-moon. - -Sandy sat fingering Maisie’s hide nervously and holding the “ear” on his -lap to protect it from bumps. From time to time, as they twisted and -turned, he got glimpses of Cavanaugh’s beam far above. It twinkled -without interruption and was hard to distinguish among the stars. - -“Pepper must be playing music,” he said softly at last. “Ralph says the -beam fades up and down when a two-way conversation is going on. We’re -still in time.” - -“Are you sure you ought to be doing this?” Kitty asked unhappily. “John -wouldn’t have let you go if he had known about it, I’m certain.” - -“That’s why I was in such a hurry to start before he returned from the -Agency. Ralph isn’t here, so I’m the only person who knows how to -operate this gadget. I have to go through with it.” - -“But why do you have to?” she demanded. “Why not leave it up to the -Agency and the Navajo police?” - -“Because I have only a hunch to go on—the kind of hunch that Mother says -Kit Carson used to have. I haven’t any proof that Cavanaugh is planning -to play some sort of dirty trick on the Indians tomorrow, or that his -plans may depend on what comes over the beam. The police would laugh at -me. I’ve _got_ to do it my way.” - -“I guess you do,” the girl agreed. “You’ll have to walk the rest of the -way,” she added, driving the car off the trail and into a thicket as the -lights shining from Cavanaugh’s trailer showed up on the skyline ahead. - -When Sandy climbed out, strapped the “ear” to his chest and started -away, she called him back sharply. - -“Take your clothes off here and put them in the back of the jeep,” she -commanded. “You’d never find them on the trail.” - -“But....” - -“Do as I say, silly. And hurry. I’m scared.” - -“I’m scareder than you are, I’ll bet,” Sandy said grumpily as he obeyed. - -The cold night wind hit his bare skin and he started shivering. - -Well, he thought as he started away through the darkness, that was all -to the good. Dogs shivered all the time, didn’t they? And the hide -offered some protection. - -It seemed to take him an age to reach the vicinity of the trailer. Once -he stubbed his toe badly, and once he cut his foot on a sharp rock. -Confound that Kitty! He needed his shoes. Still, shoes did smell pretty -strong sometimes. He grinned in spite of himself. - -A hundred yards from the trailer he got down on hands and knees, started -to crawl forward, then stopped with a jerk. - -Dogs usually didn’t take kindly to strangers of their own kind! How many -times had he seen them set upon an outsider and send him yipping for his -life. Maybe the foreigner had come looking for a fight, though! He, -Sandy, would be the friendliest doggy in seven states! He did his best -to imitate the low whimpering that Mrs. Gonzales had used as he crept -forward. If Ralph could get away with this, there was no reason why -Sandy Carson Steele couldn’t! - -He was only a few feet from the trailer when three big brutes, who had -been sleeping under its wheels, rose and advanced toward him, -stiff-legged. This was it! - -Desperately, Sandy tried to project the idea through his soft whining -that he was hungry, and cold, and wet with dew, and only wanted a quiet -place where he could spend the night under the protection of those -splendid humans, Cavanaugh and Pepper March. - -For a moment, he thought he had got the idea across. The dogs hesitated. -They seemed to confer among themselves. But they were not quite -satisfied. The lead animal bared his long white teeth and barked a -tentative challenge. The others followed his example as they sidled -toward this strange creature who certainly smelled like a dog but who -looked—well, looked somewhat queer, to say the least. - -A quotation his father once had repeated flashed through Sandy’s mind: -_The minds of dogs do not benefit by being treated as though they were -the minds of men._ As the barking grew louder, he gathered himself and -prepared to go away from that place as fast as his bare feet could carry -him. - -The trailer door banged open. A shaft of light illuminated the yard but -mercifully did not reach to the spot where Sandy crouched. - -“Shut up, you idiotic mutts!” Cavanaugh yelled. Then to Pepper, who -appeared in the doorway behind him, “Can’t you make those confounded -dogs keep quiet? They’re driving me insane.” - -“I’m sorry, Red,” Pepper answered. “You brought the dogs here to guard -the trailer.” - -“‘Red. Red. Red,’” snarled the big man, who plainly was feeling the -effects of the beating Ralph had given him. “I’m sick of your crawling -and fawning. Why weren’t you at Window Rock tonight when the whole town -ganged up on me?” - -“When Andy quit today, you told me to stay here and take care of the -beam, Red,” Pepper answered patiently. “I’m sorry, Red.” - -“From now on, call me Mister Cavanaugh,” his boss raged. - -“Yes, _Mister_ Cavanaugh ... sir.” Pepper’s voice still was soft but -Sandy could see his fists clench. - -“And stop that confounded record. Highbrow music gives me the willies. -Always has! Call Elbow Rock and see if the message has come through.” - -“Yes, sir. At once, sir.” The door slammed and the voices became a -mumble. - -Sandy tried to still the beating of his heart as he whined canine terror -at this outburst. The “other” dogs whimpered uncertainly. Finally they -crept back to their sleeping places. Evidently their master didn’t -approve of their warning. In that case.... Sandy could almost feel them -relax as they turned round and round in their nests, trying to find the -most comfortable spots for slumber. - -Carefully he edged forward until he was lying among them. Then he turned -the switch that fed power from a series of flashlight batteries into the -transistors mounted on the “ear,” adjusted the headphones, and listened. - -“Calling Elbow Rock. Calling Elbow Rock. Over,” he heard Pepper say. - -There was no answer. - -“Calling Elbow Rock. Window Rock calling Elbow Rock. Over,” Pepper -repeated. - -Still no answer. - -“Come in, Elbow Rock!” Cavanaugh’s voice barked through the phones. “Why -don’t you answer, Elbow Rock?” - -“I read you, Window Rock,” a faraway voice answered at last. -“Something’s coming in from Gallup. Stand by.” - -“This is it!” Cavanaugh’s yell almost split Sandy’s ears. “Get out of -the way, can’t you, Pepper? I’ll take this. Go to bed or something. It -makes me sick just to look at your silly face.... All right, Elbow Rock. -I’m ready when you are.” - -The minutes slid by while only the mutter of static filled Sandy’s -earphones. Beside him, he felt the Dobermans flinch and shiver in their -restless sleep. The cold night wind seeped under the bottom of the -trailer and set his teeth to chattering uncontrollably. Now he knew what -the phrase “a dog’s life” really meant. - -“Elbow Rock calling Window Rock.” The phones clattered into life. -“Over.” - -“I read you loud and clear, Elbow Rock,” Cavanaugh’s voice replied. -“What is the message from Gallup?” - -“You want it coded, like it was relayed from Washington, or straight?” -the distant voice inquired. - -“Straight, you fool. Nobody listens in on a light beam.” - -“You never know,” said the man at Elbow Rock. “Well, here’s your -message, as well as I can dope it out. It’s from your ‘keyhole man,’ Mr. -—” - -“Never mind his name,” Cavanaugh snapped. “Just give me the message.” - -“O.K.! O.K.! Take it easy, will you, boss? Here ’tis: Quote: Have picked -up leak from strictly official source. Next month U.S. government starts -buying uranium ore from all comers again. Expanding space ship and power -reactor program has increased demand for atomic fuels to such an extent -that existing mills no longer can supply it—Are you reading me all -right, boss?” - -“Clear as a bell,” Cavanaugh crooned. “This is wonderful. Go on. Go on.” - -“Here’s the rest of it: Quote: Announcement of policy change withheld -until middle of next month so it won’t upset bids to be opened tomorrow -at Window Rock and similar places. Happy hunting. Unquote. Over.” - -“Whoopee!” Cavanaugh yelled the word into the microphone so loudly that -Sandy’s earphones rattled. “Boy! This came through just in time. -Otherwise, I’d have had to cancel all of those high bids I made today or -go bankrupt tomorrow. Now I’ll be in clover with most of the good leases -sewed up at rock-bottom prices before the boom starts. Thank you, Elbow -Rock. There’s a bonus for you in this. Over and out.” - -“Roger!” came the delighted answer. - -“Did you hear all of that, Pepper?” Cavanaugh asked. - -“Was I supposed to, Mister Cavanaugh ... sir?” Pepper answered off-mike. -His voice was bitter. - -“Oh, don’t be sore, boy.” Cavanaugh roared with laughter. “If you’d -taken the beating I took tonight from Hall’s gang of toughs, you’d have -been grouchy, too. And no more of that ‘Mister Cavanaugh’ stuff. Just -call me ‘Red.’ We’re pals.” - -“Are we?” - -“Sure we are. We’ll both get rich out of this. And even better, we’ll do -the Indian Agency and the whole Navajo nation in the eye. If they accept -my bids—and they’ll have to, because they’re higher than those of anyone -else—we’ll get those leases for a half, or even a third, of what’d -they’d sell for next month when the policy change is announced.” - -In his hiding place under the trailer floor, Sandy was boiling with -fury. Momentarily he had forgotten all about being a dog. The Dobermans -sensed the difference instantly. Perhaps they caught a subtle change in -his body odor. His anger was making him perspire despite the cold. - -The lead dog barked sharply and scrambled to its feet. The others -followed suit. Sandy tried to croon reassurance to them, but failed. -They were becoming thoroughly aroused and making an awful racket. He had -to get out of there—and quickly—before Cavanaugh came to investigate. - -He scrambled from under the trailer and sprinted for the jeep. The dogs -broke into full cry now, and streaked after him. This was a human! And -an enemy human too! They were out to make him pay dearly for his deceit. - -The trailer door banged open as the bedlam rose. Moments later, a -spotlight picked up the running boy and the dogs that leaped and snapped -at his bare heels. - -“Stop, thief!” Cavanaugh yelled. “Stop or I’ll fire!” - - - - - CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Showdown - - -At that moment, Sandy tripped over a branch, flung up his arms as he -fell headlong. The rifle bullet meant for his head merely creased him -instead, from shoulder to elbow. - -He scrambled behind a large rock, managed to get to his feet, and faced -the gleaming eyes of the oncoming dogs. Something that Quiz once had -read to him out of a sports magazine flashed through his mind: “If -attacked by vicious dogs, hold out some object, such as your hat, at -waist height. They will hesitate while they decide whether to leap over -it or under it, thus giving you an advantage.” - -His left arm was numb from the shock of the bullet, but he managed to -use it to rip the dog skin from around his waist and hold it forward. As -the dogs whined and tried to make up their minds as to the best method -of attack, he tore the board on which the “ear” was mounted from his -chest with his good hand. Thank heaven, one end of the plank had been -whittled down into a sort of handle, for easier carrying. - -Then he charged, swinging the improvised club like a demon. - -Luckily, his first blow landed squarely on the snout of a leaping dog! - -Sparks flashed. Pieces of equipment flew in all directions. The animal -howled and rolled on the ground, holding its nose with both paws. Its -companions backed away. - -Sandy followed up his advantage. He struck again and again. The dogs -fled, howling, to a safe distance. - -To the right of him, the boy now heard the pounding of human feet. -Cavanaugh had abandoned a frontal attack for the moment and was -sprinting to cut him off from the road leading back to the village. - -“Don’t kill him, Red,” Pepper was shouting. “It would be murder.” - -“Nobody’s going to kill anybody—yet,” Cavanaugh yelled as he ran. “But -we can’t let him get away, after what he may have heard. Rig another -floodlight. Then come over here and help me.” - -Forgetful of the thorns that tore his skin and the rocks that cut his -knees, Sandy wriggled, Indian fashion, into a darker spot. In his bare -feet, he had no chance of reaching the road ahead of Cavanaugh, or even -of staying out of his way. Keeping a wary eye on the dogs that still -followed, whining with uncertainty, he ripped Maisie’s hide into pieces -and bound them under his feet. There. That would be better! - -He made a feint for the road now—and ducked as another bullet whispered -overhead and smacked into a nearby tree. - -He was in a real spot! If he tried to cross the bare top of the natural -bridge that arched over the hole in Window Rock, he would make an ideal -target, silhouetted against the moon. (Thank all the little Navajo gods -and demons that Cavanaugh’s right eye must be swollen shut from the -beating Ralph had given him. He was in no condition to shoot accurately -even if he disregarded Pepper’s warning.) - -Sandy decided that his best strategy lay in hiding among the mesquite -and sagebrush thickets under the pine trees that covered the side of the -rock nearest the village. Kitty must have heard the racket. Perhaps she -would understand what was happening and head for town to get help. - -A whoop of delight, followed by several quick shots, made his heart -sink. - -“That jeep will never move again,” he heard Cavanaugh yell. The next -words made him feel much better. “Come on out of the woods, driver, and -give yourself up. I’ve got you cut off from the road.” - -Sandy dithered in his hiding place. He was feeling decidedly queer all -of a sudden. The fact that his left hand felt wet and slippery brought -him up short. He was bleeding steadily from that wound in his shoulder. -He tried dabbing sand on the crease, but it didn’t stop the flow. -Another fifteen or twenty minutes and he would be so weak, that he would -fall easy prey to his pursuers. - -“Bring flashlights out here,” Cavanaugh was shouting to Pepper now. -“We’ll beat the woods for the driver first.” - -Sandy bit his cold lips. Time was running out. He had to act, and act -fast, before he keeled over from loss of blood. Should he throw himself -on Pepper’s mercy? But, even granted that his old rival wouldn’t betray -him, what good would that do? Cavanaugh had the gun! - -The sight of the blond boy walking reluctantly into the woods through -the floodlight glare, with a heavy flashlight in either hand, gave him -an idea. - -Or was it Quiz who told him what to do? He shook his head dazedly. -Almost, he could hear Quiz saying: “Where would Professor Moriarty least -expect to find you, Sherlock Holmes?” - -“Elementary, my dear Dr. Watson,” he whispered in reply. “In the -trailer, of course.” - -Gripping the breadboard in both hands, he made a last weak lunge at the -circling Dobermans. They fled, yelping, from this blood-spattered -terror. - -Then he crawled frantically toward the open trailer door. - -Safe inside, and with the door locked behind him, he hung onto a table -and stared about him with eyes that were beginning to go out of focus. - -He should find a cloth with which to bind up his wound, he knew. But he -had no time. - -The glittering light-beam mechanism caught his attention. That was the -key to the whole situation! It must project a million candle-power, at -least, to be seen at Elbow Rock. If he could turn it on Window Rock it -would light up the village as bright as day. - -There must be a wheel or something by which the light could be moved.... -There it was! On the control board to the right! - -He twisted the little chrome wheel frantically, watching through a -window as he did so. At first his aim was wild. Then, every street and -building in Window Rock leaped into view, as though outlined by a -lightning stroke. - -There! That would tell them something was wrong up here. - -He was sleepy and tired after all that effort. So sleepy! He sank into a -chair in front of the beam console and pillowed his head on his bloody -arms. - -But something nagged him. What he had done wasn’t enough. Kitty was out -there alone in the woods. Cavanaugh might come pounding on the trailer -door at any moment. He had to tell them ... tell them ... tell them -what? Why, where he was, and what was happening, naturally! - -He jerked himself upright and started tearing at the mass of wiring that -ran to the light beam modulator. Finally he got down to the heavy -insulated lead-in wires ... tore them loose. - -The beam illuminating the village died away. - -He slapped the leads together. The light blinked on. - -“SOS,” he heliographed in Morse code remembered from Scouting field -trips. “SOS. May Day. May Day.” - -Surely somebody at Window Rock would know the code. Certainly Ralph did. -He repeated the international distress calls again and again. - -“SOS. May Day!” he spelled out, his cold fingers making many mistakes. -“Sandy Steele and Kitty on the Rock. Cavanaugh trying to kill us. Send -help. SOS. May Day! Sandy Steele and Kitty on the Rock. Cavanaugh....” - -He fell forward across the console. - -The smash of some heavy object against the door brought him back to -semi-consciousness. - -“Stop that!” Cavanaugh was yelling. “Stop it or I will kill you. Stop -it. Stop it!” The man sounded completely insane now. - -The door bulged, then broke loose from its hinges under a rain of blows. - -Cavanaugh stood in the entrance, his good eye wild and rolling, his -rifle pointed. Behind him, Pepper appeared, still holding one of the -heavy flashlights. - -“An Injun,” Cavanaugh gloated without recognition as he took in Sandy’s -dirt-smeared, blood-caked body. “One of Hall’s dirty, stinking Injuns. -This will teach you!” - -His finger tightened on the trigger. - -“Pepper!” Sandy gasped with the last remnant of his strength. “Don’t let -him kill me, Pepper!” - -He slid to the floor as the gun went off. - - - - - CHAPTER FIFTEEN - The Fourth Touchdown - - -Sandy fought his way up from unconsciousness like a diver rising from -the bottom of a dark sea. For a long time he lay without moving as he -tried to sort out the sounds around him. He was dead, of course, he -reasoned. Nevertheless, some of the voices he seemed to hear sounded -familiar. - -He opened one eye experimentally, prepared to snap it shut if he didn’t -like what he saw. Mrs. Gonzales was bending over him with one of her -eternal compresses. So was a man with a goatee who had a stethoscope -clipped around his neck. - -Sandy opened the other eye and turned his head, which seemed to weigh a -ton. - -He found that he was in bed and bandaged right up to his chin. Kitty, -her pretty face badly scratched, was watching him too. So were John Hall -and ... yes, it was Pepper! - -“But I _ought_ to be dead,” Sandy whispered in great surprise. “What -happened?” - -“I conked Cavanaugh with his own flashlight,” Pepper said with pride. -“Knocked him out. His shot went wild.” - -“Thanks a lot, Pepper. Shake.” Sandy tried to hold out his hand but -found he couldn’t quite make it. - -“Easy,” said the doctor. - -“Am I badly hurt?” Sandy managed to say. - -“Nothing worse than loss of a lot of blood. I’ve pumped you full of -plasma. You’ll be all right in a few days, but you mustn’t exert -yourself for a while,” said the doctor as he started packing instruments -into his little black bag. - -“But I’ve _got_ to know what happened,” Sandy said fretfully. “For -Pete’s _sake_!” - -“I called Kitty out of the woods after I hit Cavanaugh,” Pepper -explained. “We got you into his car and brought you home as fast as we -could.” - -“And you’re all right, Kitty?” Sandy persisted. - -“Just a few scratches and bruises.” She came forward to prove it and -patted his bandaged shoulder. - -“And ... and Cavanaugh?” - -“The crazy fool is still up there,” Hall spoke up. “Look.” He pointed -through the bedroom window. - -Sandy worked his head around in that direction. The great hump of the -Window Rock was lit up as bright as day. - -“Floodlights,” Hall explained as he saw the boy’s surprise. “They’re set -up permanently to illuminate the Rock on Frontier Day and for other -tourist events.” - -“But....” - -“The Navajo police turned them on. The whole force, as well as most of -the Indians who attended the joint Council meeting, are up there trying -to flush Cavanaugh out of hiding.” - -“Ralph too?” Sandy’s eyes were shining. - -“Yes.” - -“Did the Council meeting come to anything, Mr.—John?” - -“It broke up before any formal agreement was signed when we got your -message, but....” - -“Gee, I’m sorry about that.” - -“Forget it. I only had the chance to say a few words to Ralph while they -were organizing the posse, but he told me the tribes understand each -other’s position now. It’s just a matter of ironing out details before -they agree to put those boundary-line leases up for bids.” - -“That’ll be great for you,” Sandy said, “but I sure wish I hadn’t had -to....” - -“Forget it, I said.” Hall patted his shoulder too. (Why did everybody -have to pat him as if he were a dog? Sandy wondered crossly. Then he -burst out laughing, although to do so hurt his face and chest. Why, he -almost _was_ a dog, wasn’t he?) - -“Young man, you’re getting much too excited,” the doctor warned as he -approached the bed, hypodermic needle in hand. “I’d better put you to -sleep for a while.” - -Sandy pushed him away. - -“There’s something else,” he cried. “John, did Pepper tell you about the -message Cavanaugh received from Washington?” - -“I told him there had been a message, and what Cavanaugh said to Elbow -Rock,” Pepper spoke up. “But I couldn’t hear the message itself. -Cavanaugh was wearing the earphones.” - -“Better forget all this for a while and go to sleep, Sandy,” said Hall. -His face was gaunt with worry. - -“No! You must listen now.” - -Sandy wanted desperately to go to sleep, but he wouldn’t let himself -give in. Slowly, forcing each word out of his mouth as though it weighed -several pounds, he repeated the message to Cavanaugh as well as he could -remember it. - -“Good Lord!” Hall gasped. “This changes the whole picture. I must call -Ken!” - -He rushed to the telephone while Sandy’s eyelids closed in spite of his -efforts to keep them open. He just _had_ to have a few minutes’ sleep. - -White’s arrival at the cottage jerked him awake again. The Agent was -wearing heavy boots and carried a pair of binoculars slung over his -pudgy shoulder. - -“What’s all this, John?” he demanded. “I was just leaving from the Rock -when you called. I sent off an inquiry to the Department of Interior -immediately, of course. Then this message came in from San Francisco. -That’s what took me so long getting here. The message is for you, -Sandy.” - -“Read it to me, please,” the boy said. “I’m too weak to lift a finger.” - -White ripped open the yellow envelope, got out his glasses, and read: - - FINALLY GOT HERE STOP NEWSPAPER FILES SHOW THERE WAS CAVANAUGH ON - STATE TEAM IN 1930 WHO MADE ALL-AMERICAN STOP BUT HE WAS CALLED BRICK - NOT RED STOP ALL SPORTS PAGE STORIES ON BIG GAME SAY HE MADE FOUR - TOUCHDOWNS REPEAT FOUR TOUCHDOWNS AGAINST CALIFORNIA STOP QUIZ TAYLOR - -“Aw shucks,” Pepper said disgustedly. “That proves our Cavanaugh isn’t -an impostor after all.” - -“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” Sandy dragged himself up on one elbow -despite Mrs. Gonzales’ efforts to make him lie still. “It proves no such -thing!” - -“But if he did make those three touchdowns he was always bragging -about....” Pepper started to protest. - -“_Four_ touchdowns, the telegram says,” Sandy panted. “Now look, all of -you. Maybe a real football player might _add_ a touchdown to his record -if he thought no one would catch him at it. But who would _subtract_ a -touchdown? Nobody. That’s who! - -“Cavanaugh is a phony, I tell you. Whoever he really is, he wanted to -impress people, and keep them from asking too many personal questions -when he went to Valley View and started building his lab with the money -he had stolen from Mr. Gonzales. He remembered that there was another -Cavanaugh on the State team, so he took his identity. But the game had -been played so many years ago that he got the details wrong, see? I’ll -bet that, if we start digging into his past, we’ll find lots of other -queer things.” - -“We’ll need to do a lot of digging, too, to make any charges stick -against him after we catch him,” White said grimly. - -“What do you mean?” Hall exploded. “He’s guilty of attempted homicide, -defrauding the Indians, disturbing the peace, and I don’t know what all -else.” - -“Oh, he’s guilty all right,” the Agent agreed, “but could you prove that -to a jury, particularly out here where so many people still think that -the only good Indian is a dead Indian?” - -“Oh, you’re being an old woman, Ken,” the oilman snapped. - -“Maybe so, John. Maybe so. But I’ve been in this business a long time. -If Cavanaugh or whoever he is hadn’t lost his head, he would have come -right down here and given himself up. Then his lawyers could have -claimed that he was only defending his property from a prowler. No. No. -Shut up and listen to me. People are awful touchy about property rights -out here. Remember what they used to do to cattle rustlers—still do, for -that matter, on occasion. - -“And now about this message that Sandy heard: Cavanaugh’s lawyers would -say ‘Prove it!’ And what real proof have we got? We’d be putting up the -word of a minor who _did_ prowl—I’m not blaming you, Sandy. You did the -only thing possible and your idea of using the light beam to call for -help was a stroke of pure genius—but, as I say, the word of a minor -against the word of an established businessman who has a lot of friends -in these parts.” - -“Then you don’t think....” Hall was really shocked. - -“I _think_ we have a chance of making our charges stick with the help of -the information Quiz has dug up, but I’m not even sure of that. Frankly, -if the government doesn’t act faster than it usually does, I’m afraid -all of Cavanaugh’s uranium lease bids may have to be accepted tomorrow. -He can claim, you see, that he put them in before the time that he is -even _accused_ of having received his illegal tip.” - -“Wow!” Sandy stared at his employer with round eyes. “Well anyway,” he -added, “the change in policy will give you a chance to develop your own -uranium strike on the San Juan.” - -“Fat lot of good that will do me if Cavanaugh ties us up with a libel -and defamation suit,” Hall grunted. “Well, Ken, it looks as if we’re all -in trouble unless ... what was that?” - -They all whirled toward the window. - -Far up near the top of Window Rock, pinpoints of light were flashing. -The clean, thin sound of rifle shots came down to them through the still -desert air. - -White snatched at his binoculars and trained them on the mountain. Long -moments passed as he fiddled with the focus. - -“The idiot!” he almost whispered at last. “The poor scared, hysterical -fool. He’s making a run for it across the top of the natural bridge!” - -Hall snapped off the room light. Somehow, Sandy managed, with Kitty’s -help, to sit up where he could get a view of the bare slab of rock where -he had almost been tempted to do what Cavanaugh was now trying. - -They all held their breath in the darkness as they strained their eyes. - -There he was! A tiny black shadow, bent nearly double as he raced madly -through the floodlight glare. - -“He’s going to make it. He’s going to make it!” Pepper shouted, his old -loyalty to his boss coming to the fore. “Run, Red. _Run!_” - -The fleeing man stumbled. He threw up his arms and reeled to the edge of -the narrow rock bridge. Almost, he recovered his balance.... - -Then he fell, turning over and over slowly, for a thousand miles, it -seemed. - -Kitty and her mother screamed together. - -“It’s better so,” White murmured at last as he put his glasses back in -their case. “A clean death. Cavanaugh made that fourth touchdown after -all.” - - - SANDY STEELE ADVENTURES - - 1. BLACK TREASURE - -Sandy Steele and Quiz spend an action-filled summer in the oil fields of -the Southwest. In their search for oil and uranium, they unmask a -dangerous masquerader. - - 2. DANGER AT MORMON CROSSING - -On a hunting trip in the Lost River section of Idaho, Sandy and Mike -ride the rapids, bag a mountain lion, and stumble onto the answer to a -hundred-year-old mystery. - - 3. STORMY VOYAGE - -Sandy and Jerry James ship as deck hands on one of the “long boats” of -the Great Lakes. They are plunged into a series of adventures and find -themselves involved in a treacherous plot. - - 4. FIRE AT RED LAKE - -Sandy and his friends pitch in to fight a forest fire in Minnesota. Only -they and Sandy’s uncle know that there is an unexploded A-bomb in the -area to add to the danger. - - 5. SECRET MISSION TO ALASKA - -A pleasant Christmas trip turns into a startling adventure. Sandy and -Jerry participate in a perilous dog-sled race, encounter a wounded bear, -and are taken as hostages by a ruthless enemy. - - 6. TROUBLED WATERS - -When Sandy and Jerry mistakenly sail off in a stranger’s sloop instead -of their own, they land in a sea of trouble. Their attempts to -outmaneuver a desperate crew are intertwined with fascinating sailing -lore. - - PUBLISHED BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes - - ---Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public - domain in the country of publication. - ---Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and - dialect unchanged. - ---In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the - HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.) - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Black Treasure, by Roger Barlow - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACK TREASURE *** - -***** This file should be named 50256-0.txt or 50256-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/2/5/50256/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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