D orothy slept little and ill on Friday night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Artie telling her good-bye or saw the look in Rumple’s eyes when he insisted that she keep her promise. It was amazing how swiftly she assigned the name to the image of the stranger.
She tried to redirect her thoughts, reassure herself, pray for help. At last, she sat up in sheer desperation. He didn’t say anything about hurting Artie. How is a secret meeting any kind of payment for gold? Why am I so certain that he plans to do Artie harm? Why can’t I get away from it?
The only answer came in the memory of Rumple’s eyes when he demanded the interview and his words the first time that he gave her any gold. “It should cost you something you hold dear.”
She shivered. If anything happens to Artie, it will be my fault. I should never have agreed to promise that man anything.
She went back and forth until the wee hours, when she jumped out of bed. She couldn’t lie still, and she couldn’t wait until nightfall to know the outcome.
If I follow them to Weaver’s Needle, Rumple will see me. But…If I get up there before either of them, I can conceal myself and see what happens. He always meets me in the same area. He will likely meet Artie there as well.
Later, she did wonder why she thought it a good idea to climb the Superstition Mountains in the dark, but in those early hours, she didn’t consider it. The rocks felt cool to the touch, waiting for the rising sun to warm them. She pushed on, imagining what she could not see and praying that she would keep a straight course. By the time sunlight bathed the desert golden, Dorothy had reached Weaver’s Needle, secreting herself in a hidden spot near where she usually met with Rumple.
She saw the man appear after what felt like a tremendous amount of time. Then, she realized that he may have been there far longer without her noticing. He only allowed himself to be seen when he wanted to, after all. He wanted Artie to see him.
Still, Artie didn’t join him for some time. When he did, the man looked askance at Rumple, who had stood on his approach. Artie kept a measured distance and seemed cautious. Dorothy wondered if she would be able to hear them, but she needn’t have worried. The light breeze carried their voices to her quite clearly.
“Arthur Sinclair. I did wonder if you would come.”
Artie gave the man a clearly distrustful look. “What is it that you wanted to see me about, that you couldn’t have come to me in the ordinary way?”
“You told no one where you were going?”
Artie pulled back his shoulders. “I did not.”
“Impressive.” Rumple leaned against a rock. “I believed that you would trust our Miss Dorothy enough to come, but I couldn’t be absolutely assured on that point.”
Artie raised his eyebrows. “Her message said that you have important information regarding my father.”
Rumple crossed his arms, still leaning on the rock. “So, I do.”
Dorothy fidgeted. He wants something. He won’t give information for free any more than he will gold, will he?
Artie broke the silence. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”
Rumple seemed to grin, though Dorothy couldn’t quite see his full face. Pulling an object out of his pocket, he tossed it to Artie, who caught it mid-air. “Do you recognize that compass?”
Artie peered down at the object before shaking his head. “No. I imagine though, by the initials CS on the back, that you’ll tell me it belonged to my father.”
“Astute observation.”
“Should…” Artie turned over the compass once more. “Should this mean something to me?”
“It is a reminder.”
Artie looked up at him. “A reminder?”
“Yes. For me.” Rumple shrugged against his rock. “For the rest, you will have to come closer instead of treating me like a diseased coyote.”
Artie surveyed him up and down.
“You don’t want to know the rest about your father? Most sons would.”
“I have already learned an awful lot about him of late.”
Rumple nodded slowly. “I’m sure that you have. I doubt you know what I know, however.”
Artie didn’t move. “Tell me first why Dorothy Hodges is so afraid of you? What did you do to her?”
Rumple actually chuckled. “She told you that she is afraid of me?”
“She didn’t have to.” Artie rolled the compass about in his hand. “I could see she was terrified.”
“Don’t worry.” Rumple kicked at something on the ground. “Since you are here, dear Miss Dorothy is perfectly safe. I certainly won’t touch her.”
Artie didn’t look as if he entirely believed the man.
“Come now. You really will have to come closer.” Rumple stood away from the rock, dropping his arms. “I have to show you and I can’t toss it.”
Dorothy’s heart hammered ever faster when Artie finally took the steps forward. Rumple pulled something from his pocket, holding the closed hand out toward Artie. He waited for the other man to come quite close before he opened his fingers.
“Gold?” Artie looked up at Rumple’s face.
“Very good.” Rumple’s voice changed to a bone chilling tone. “This is what you’re paying for.”
Artie took a rapid step back, but the other man seemed to unfold himself in an instant. He raised a long arm, striking Artie heavily on the side of the neck. To Dorothy’s horror, he crumpled. Artie tried to push himself up seconds after he hit the ground, but his attempts proved weak, and he moaned as Rumple shoved him down flat with his foot.
“The price must be paid.” The cold chill continued in Rumple’s voice. “One way or another.”
Dorothy watched with mounting horror as the man pulled a knife from beneath his shirt, the polished blade gleaming in the sunlight.
“Your father’s death makes this inevitable, but his debt must be paid.”
Terrified, yet desperate, Dorothy jumped from her hiding place with an urgent and single worded prayer for help.
“Stop! Please, stop!”
Rumple started at the sound of her voice. Keeping his foot on Artie’s back, he looked about until he saw her. Indignation and astonishment flooded his face.
“Please, d-don’t kill him!” Dorothy clasped her hands together so tightly it pained her. “I-if I had known, I would never have agreed to your terms!”
“You cannot go back on our agreement.” He pushed Artie back into the dirt when he tried to rise again, leaving his foot in the middle of his back. Artie moaned again. “This does not concern you. Go home.”
Dorothy could hear her heart in her ears, and she shook so much she could scarcely stand. Yet, she forced a step forward.
“It does concern me. Please. I’m begging you.” Her voice shook with every other part of her. She couldn’t fight him, even with her knife. She would never be a match. She had to change his mind. Oh God in Heaven, lend me aide! “I-I’ll find a way to repay you in another way myself. However much you ask!”
The man shook his head. “You do not know what you are asking.”
“I do!” She blinked to see through the threatening tears. “I am asking you to spare his life!” She wondered that her stutter disappeared. She also wondered that she didn’t fall down as much as she trembled.
Rumple hesitated.
God Almighty, grant that he will listen. I pray Thee to spare Artie’s life and stay this man’s hand!
Artie began to struggle. He tried to say something, but Dorothy couldn’t understand what he said. Rumple kicked him and he lay still. Dorothy flinched. Rumple saw it, narrowing his eyes.
“You really care for him?”
Dorothy couldn’t decide whether he meant the question rhetorical or not. She nodded slightly.
“I’ll give you a single chance, Miss Dorothy.” He looked down at Artie, still pinned to the ground beneath his foot. “I will give you a single chance to save his life.”
Dorothy waited, holding her breath.
Rumple slowly raised his head toward her, his eyes glinting dangerously. “You don’t know who I am.”
“I know that you’re called Rumple.”
“‘Called’ is the defining word, my dear.” He shook his head. “And only by those who don’t know me.” He bent, pulling rope from his sack that lay on the ground. “I will give you three days. Until this time on Tuesday.”
Dorothy watched him tie Artie’s hands roughly behind his back, then his feet. Artie didn’t seem to be conscious, as he made no attempt at fighting.
“What exactly do I have three days to do?”
“Find out who I am. My real name. And,” he straightened with a wicked grin, “discover where my gold comes from. Find the place and meet me there. Without the sheriff, of course.”
Dorothy’s heart dropped. “How can I possibly find all that out?”
“That is for you to work out.” He shrugged. “If you succeed, I will release Arthur Sinclair with a promise that I shall consider the price paid and I shall require nothing else for this deed.”
Artie seemed to be regaining consciousness, but Dorothy still couldn’t understand what he said.
“H-how do I know that you’ll keep him alive for that long?”
Rumple looked directly at her. “I am a man of my word.”
Artie managed to turn his head around enough to look across at her. Rumple didn’t stop him. Artie winced in pain but managed to speak in a voice she could just hear. “Dorothy, go. Just… go.”
She blinked rapidly, looking at Rumple’s impassive face once more. She didn’t trust him. She disliked the idea of leaving Artie more than she could say. Yet, she had no idea for any other course of action.
God Almighty, keep him safe, I pray Thee. Grant me Thine assistance.
“Off with you now!” Rumple lifted Artie with an ease that astonished Dorothy, then turned to face her. “Three days. Unless you would prefer to watch me kill him right now.”
“N-no, sir.”
“Go, then.”
Dorothy didn’t know how to do anything else besides obey. With a last glance toward what she could see of Artie, she turned her back.
Never in her life had Dorothy Hodges escaped the Superstition Mountains in so short a time. Never had she prayed so much while she did so.
Dear Jesus, what have I done? The fault of all this lies at my door. I never should have taken the gold on the terms that he gave me when I didn’t trust his reasoning. Grant to me the wisdom to know whence I should go and what I should do. Grant mercy, I pray Thee, and spare Artie’s life. Oh, spare his life, oh God.