D orothy watched Artie Sinclair and someone named Ted help the thirsty stranger to an automobile. Ted promised that he and his sister would get him to Mesa directly.
I suppose that I can leave now.
“Too many people have landed themselves into trouble over that mine in the last sixty years.”
Dorothy and Kat turned toward the old prospector, who spoke.
“More and more people get interested since they found old Jacob’s tool cache a few years back.” He shook his white head with solemnity. “More and more people are going to get into trouble or meet with a premature death.”
Dorothy pictured her father searching the Superstition Mountain, refusing to even take a burro or horse. She bit back a sigh.
“Do you really think so?” Kat put a hand on her hip. “You don’t think it will die down instead?”
Dorothy watched the old man nod, followed by his two equally hoary friends.
“Nah, it won’t die down. Not until it’s found, if it ever is. Old Jacob Waltz found his mine in the 1860s. Besides keeping all that gold close, I reckon that he liked to be a bit mysterious. Sixty years later, the search has never completely died out, though no one else has found it. Possibly the richest gold mine in all of Arizona—possibly in all the world—and no one but the Dutchman knows its whereabouts.”
“Not according to our thirsty friend.” Artie’s voice caused Dorothy to start and turn.
She inched a bit closer to Kat and wished that Artie would leave again.
Rather than fulfill her wishes, he kept talking instead. “Our friend thinks whoever led him astray up in the Superstition, knows the mountains and the mine. He believes the prospector made a deliberate attempt to steer him in the wrong direction.”
“Maybe it’s the ghost of old Jacob Waltz.” The prospector chuckled, low and rumbly, his eyes squinting and jolly.
Even Dorothy had to smile.
“Nah.” He shook his head with one last chuckle. “He’s probably imagining things. The prospector may have steered him wrong by mistake, but he’s probably imagining the sinister side of things. Being stuck in the mountains can do that to you. It plays with your mind. Don’t you think so, Artie?”
Dorothy tried not to look at him but could see the man shrug anyway. “I suppose. I don’t think I’ve ever been in the mountains alone. I don’t think I’ve ever been very disoriented up there, but I confess I haven’t ventured very far into them.”
Dorothy held back a shudder. He goes into the mountains? I hope I never meet him there.
“Jacob Waltz brought a lot of people a heap of trouble when he boasted about that mine.” The prospector pulled on his beard. “You know, they say, on that night in the 1860s…” He lowered his voice with a twinkle in his eye. Dorothy felt certain that he had told this story before. “On that night, Waltz marched into a saloon, (this was before Prohibition, mind you) happy as a tumbleweed in a good wind. He started buying everyone drinks as if he’d inherited all the gold in the world. He started telling about this mine he found, so rich you couldn’t imagine all that it contained. You could try, but you’d fail. When asked the location, Old Jacob knew better than to talk. He just grinned, then plopped his ore right there onto the counter to pay for those drinks.”
The second prospector leaned forward. “They say that no one had ever seen gold ore like it before, neither have they ever since. Except in the possession of Jacob Waltz. His mine had ore of higher value and higher potency than any other mine found in Arizona. Even the Mammoth Mine in Goldfield never compared to Jacob’s gold.”
The first prospector nodded with a grunt. “People tried to get him to talk. They say the mine is in a deep ravine, facing west, directly across from a rock face high atop a ridge. But old Jacob, he stayed stubborn as a mule. He wouldn’t lead anyone to the mine. He got himself one partner, and all seemed to be going well until…”
“Until the nasty things started happening.” All three prospectors shook their heads in unison, while the second one spoke. “I reckon it all went south with the death of Waltz’s partner, Jacob Weiser. A terrible tragedy that no one ever solved.”
“Since then,” the first prospector took up the tale again, “who knows how many have died in pursuit of the Dutchman’s lost goldmine? Jacob Weiser was just the beginning. Some say that he died because he wouldn’t give up the mine. Others say that he died after giving up the location of the mine. Who knows how many have failed in their search because of someone else’s greed or lack of trustworthiness? All true legends have their dark sides, I reckon.”
The second prospector nodded again. “Some darker than others.”
“How do we know that the mine hasn’t been found and exploited for all it’s worth?” Theo crossed his arms and looked at his brother.
“Maybe because no one has seen anyone passing around large and unexplained amounts of gold.” Artie replied.
The prospectors nodded.
“Not only that.” The first prospector settled back comfortably in his chair. “The ore. Like we said, it’s so special, so out of the ordinary, no one would take it for anything else who knew gold ore. We haven’t seen that.”
“If I found the goldmine, I wouldn’t use the ore or mine the gold at all.” Kat shrugged. “Why set myself up to get bumped off?”
Dorothy frowned. Bumped off? Does she mean killed?
The old prospector grinned. “You underestimate the power of greed, my dear. A love of gold instills a man with desperation, an ever-growing hunger for more. It can consume and motivate, even in the face of danger.”
“It’s also a time-honored motive for tricks, betrayal, and murder.” Artie pushed his hands into his pockets.
Dorothy thought of the lost stranger. If someone truly played a trick on him… Surely, he could have misunderstood or been mistaken.
“Obsession leads to many things. Rarely good things.” The prospector nodded once more. “Though, we were warned.”
“Warned?” Theo asked.
“The Good Book warned us. Few of us listened.”
Theo looked at Kat and then Artie. “The Good Book warned us?”
Artie shifted. “He’s probably referring to the book of Matthew, where Jesus says that we can’t serve both God and mammon. We will hate one and love the other. We can’t serve two masters.”
The prospector nodded yet again. “And I’d say gold is mammon. When you love it above God, I reckon it’s no wonder it leads to so many troubles.”
Dorothy glanced in the direction of the mountains. Troubles… Yes, I suppose it does lead to a good bit of trouble. Even when it only seems to affect those close to the one obsessed.