D orothy found the canyon junction. She hoped and prayed it matched the sketch as well as she thought it did. After that point, between them, she and Theo did their best to follow the directions recorded by Charles Sinclair.
Twice, the directions had them double back. Twice, the duo questioned their own judgement, backtracked and tried again. An awful lot of rocks can resemble a horse’s ear if you look at them correctly. Especially when you’re on the trail with a life on the line.
As the path became rougher, they had to put extra care into their steps, unless they wanted to add injury to their adventure. Dorothy’s twisted ankle had healed well, she thought, but the level of rough terrain they encountered challenged that assertion.
“Dad did say,” Theo paused to take a drink from his canteen, “that the trail became ‘horrifying and dreadful,’ but I thought he exaggerated.”
Dorothy didn’t respond. According to the directions, they still had a good piece to go, and it would be dark before long.
“Dorothy?”
She looked up. Theo stood several paces ahead of her. She took a deep breath. “Tomorrow is Tuesday.”
“Which is why we have to keep going as long as possible, right?”
“What if…” She looked about them. “What if we took a wrong turn? What if we’re going in the wrong direction? Or we miss something? People have failed to find the Lost Dutchman for decades, you know.”
Theo sighed, looking up at the rim of rocks to one side. “I really can’t think about it. Not if I’m going to keep going.” He looked down at her. “Neither should you.”
“What if…?” She closed her eyes, attempting to steady her voice. The thought had been plaguing her with increasing frequency since the day before. “What if we find them, but it’s t-too late?”
She didn’t see the expression that crossed Theo’s face, but she did hear a change in his voice. He walked back to meet her, speaking in a tone that reminded her of the one she heard him using with his little sister a few days before. “Come on, Dorothy. Let’s keep moving.” He urged her forward. “We won’t find him by standing still.”
Night fell before either wanted it to. Neither wanted to stop again, but neither had confidence in their abilities to find their way in the dark either, even with a near full moon. Dorothy had never been to the area of the mountain they found themselves in and Theo certainly hadn’t either. Dorothy ate little and slept ill. She expected Theo fared about the same, though she didn’t ask him. She spent most of her night swinging between her worried imagination and prayer. By early dawn, the duo set out again.
Dorothy kept her eye on the sun as the terrain in the canyon grew worse. Walter had been specific about the time—“This time on Tuesday,” he’d said—and Dorothy couldn’t keep from constantly trying to figure out the time.
Theo halted without saying anything and Dorothy dropped her eyes from the position of the sun. He had the diary open again.
“What is it?”
“I’m just trying to understand the last bit.”
The brush around them had grown thicker and the cacti seemed more sparse, though Dorothy still spotted them growing out of the rock. The cliff to the right side of the canyon had grown steadily deeper for a while.
“The last instruction just refers to a cliff. He doesn’t make a specific mention of why.” Theo closed the diary, pushing it back into his pocket.
“He expected to use the directions himself. They weren’t written to guide anyone else.” Dorothy looked up at the sun again with a shudder despite the growing warmth. Time grew short.
For an hour, they searched the cliff, coming up empty. Dorothy’s hands shook as the rocks and brush seemed to blend together into one. “Lord above, I pray Thee assist us!”
She watched a lizard slither across the ground, past some brush, and disappear. She followed the lizard’s path until the wall of rock suddenly gave way for the width of a trail. Conferring with Theo, they decided to follow the break in the trail. The path led into another canyon, smaller, rough and dark. Sticking close together, the two moved forward, looking out for anything that might resemble a mine among the rocks and thicket.
How deep the canyon went, Dorothy couldn’t begin to guess, but it seemed never-ending. She hoped they would be able to find their way out.
“Dad didn’t mention a second canyon.” The density of the canyon seemed to bury Theo’s voice.
Dorothy tried to avoid tearing her skirt. “He didn’t mention a lot of things.”
They pushed onward, making their way through the undergrowth as best they could. At last, they paused, and Dorothy looked up. To their left stood a rock face atop a ridge, towering high above their heads. To the right, a high ravine, sharp at the top and rugged beneath.
“The prospectors said the mine was in a ravine. Facing west.” Dorothy turned toward Theo. “Across from a rock face high atop a ridge.”
Theo only nodded, leading the way to get closer to the ravine. It took little searching to find the tunnel, hidden by the pile of brush, bones, and cacti. Dorothy did not want to know the origin of those bones.
They found themselves in a mine shaft—the sunlight filtering inside, glinting off the gold in the walls. Dorothy took in a sharp breath. Theo touched her arm. “We should stay together.”
They walked until the light of day faded, and darkness took over. As their eyes adjusted to the shadows, they began to hear voices.
“I knew she wouldn’t succeed. Few ever do—especially these days.”
Dorothy’s heart leapt with relief on hearing the second voice. She had the unmistakable urge to cry. “If you planned to just kill her if she did, it’s for the best.”
“I’ve told you already.” Walter’s voice echoed strangely. “I don’t kill for pleasure or even for trespassing. I punish theft. Your father stole from me but died at another’s hand. You inherit his guilt, if you will.”
“You can’t inherit guilt from your father in that way.” Artie sounded far stronger than he had been at Weaver’s Needle a few days prior. “Each of us is responsible for sin before God.”
“That is your creed and your Bible.”
“It could be yours, too.”
Walter laughed. “No, it really couldn’t. It will only be yours for a few more minutes.”
Dorothy could see the knife in Walter’s hand as he leaned against a wall, gold veins running through the rock with a beauty that surprised her even by the light of the lantern. Artie sat nearby, tied up securely. Neither man had noticed Theo or Dorothy. They hadn’t left the shadows, nor could they see to go anywhere else except toward the light. Even those steps, Dorothy knew they would need to tread carefully.
Jesus, grant me courage.
Walter had begun talking again. “Much as I don’t expect to see your dear girl, Arthur, I’ll give her every minute I promised. However, they are running down to very few.”
Dorothy swallowed, stepping forward. “I’m here.”
Both men jumped. Walter dropped his knife, though he retrieved it swiftly. The man waved his lantern in her direction.
Dorothy stepped closer.
“Who is behind you?” Walter raised his knife over Artie, but Theo called out.
“I’m his brother. That’s all. No one else is with us!”
Walter lowered his arm, his eyes on Dorothy. Artie looked between them all, unable to move, but clearly wishing that he could.
“You brought another Sinclair into this mine?”
Walter’s tone turned her cold, but Dorothy raised her head higher. “Did you expect me to travel through the mountains for three days utterly alone, sir?”
He raised his eyebrows before looking her over. “I honestly didn’t expect you to get here at all.”
“I didn’t bring the law. I didn’t bring a posse. It is just myself and him.” It took every bit of her willpower not to reach for her knife. She saw no hope if she did so. She trembled but kept her arms by her sides.
Walter leaned his back against the wall, a lantern still in his hand, another hanging from a wooden hook nearby. “Did you plan for Theodore—yes, I know his name—to come up behind me while you distracted me? It wouldn’t have worked.”
Dorothy shook her head. “No, I did not.” Never in her life had she felt so afraid, yet her voice remained somehow steady. We can’t see well enough in a place that we don’t know to succeed at that.
Walter nodded slowly, still watching her. “I don’t suppose that you recall the rest of our arrangement. Finding the mine is only a part of it or you haven’t succeeded.”
Dorothy prayed that she had judged correctly; that the man would keep his word. “You are called Rumple.” She saw him begin to contradict her. “Your real name, however, is Walter. Walter Rathmann.”
The man straightened away from the wall, his dark eyes piercing despite the darkness.
Dorothy tried to control a shudder. He looks terrifying.
“You have done well.”
If he had any idea how near she felt to tears, he might have been surprised.
Walter tilted his head from one side to the other. “Very well, Miss Dorothy. I am a man of my word. By your actions, Arthur Sinclair is freed from paying the price for his father’s crime. I shall consider the debt absolved.”
She knew more would come. She could hear it in his voice.
Walter turned to Artie. “Your brother may as well know the truth, instead of only you. Charles Sinclair was a mistake of my youth. I found him, lost and, I thought, nearly dead from lack of food. I gave him provisions I had with me and promised to return and set him on a path for home. I kept my word.
“Only after I had led him on his way two days later, did I realize that he had followed me on my return here the afternoon I found him. His weakness had been a ruse. When he had the opportunity, he stole freely from the cache of already mined gold, successfully concealing his betrayal until I had left him. In the act of his theft, he had dropped his compass, which I have kept ever since as a reminder of an unpaid debt.”
Dorothy glanced toward Theo, who still stood behind her. She wondered if, between the two of them, they had any hope of overpowering Walter Rathmann if he refused to let him go. Judging by his obvious size and strength, even with two of them, she didn’t think it likely.
Walter swung his lantern. “Tell me, Miss Dorothy, what can you offer me that I’ll allow the three of you to go free. You have knowledge regarding the location of the mine. I assume you have discovered its significance.”
“If you mean that it is the Lost Dutchman, yes, sir.”
“You understand then, why I consider your knowledge dangerous.”
“Others have known the location in the past.” Theo spoke from behind Dorothy.
“Few others, Mr. Sinclair.” Walter sent a reproachful glance his way. “Only Jacob Waltz has ever remembered the location in the last fifty years or more.” He grinned. “What can you suggest, Miss Dorothy?”
She looked at him a long moment, looked at Artie, then back. At last, she walked back toward Theo. “Can I have the diary?”
She could see by his face that he didn’t like it, but he gave it to her anyway. Dorothy returned to the lantern, opened the book to Charles Sinclair’s directions, ripping the pages out of the binding. She held the papers toward a confused Walter.
“T-this is how we found the mine. We are both exhausted and have slept very little in the last three days. I doubt if we could find the mine again on our own without it. I will give you the papers, if you will see us out of this area and safely on our way home.”
“If you decide to come back—”
“We won’t.” Artie spoke for the first time since Dorothy had announced her presence. “Believe me, none of us would want to.”
Walter gave him a glance before returning his gaze to Dorothy for a long moment. At last, he nodded. “Very well, Miss Dorothy.” He nodded again. “I will take the papers and see the three of you safely on your way. You will have to walk swiftly, as I don’t dally, and do not expect the path to make sense as I do not promise to take you by the way you came. However,” he took a step closer to the girl, “if I find any of you near my mine again, I will assume you have broken your promise.”
Dorothy did not know what the consequence would be, but neither did she want to. “Y-yes, sir. You won’t.”
He circled her, holding his knife in front of him. From the corner of her eye, she saw Artie stiffen. Walter stopped directly in front of her again, taking the papers out of her hand. With a nod, he turned toward Artie, cutting the ropes that bound his feet.
“I’ll free him entirely when we part ways. You’ll understand if I don’t trust two brothers with you against my lone self.”
He gestured for Dorothy to join Theo on the way toward the mine entrance.
Theo bent to speak in her ear when she reached him. “Do you trust him? Actually, trust him?”
“He is a man of his word. I trust that.” She sighed wearily. “He’ll get us on our way and leave us alone. I don’t know why I know it, but I do.”