D orothy could not have imagined nor expected the transformation in Kat’s demeanor when she heard Rumple had taken Artie. She looked to Theo for confirmation or, more probably, contradiction, but he only nodded. Sitting down slowly, the brightly decorated room seemed to fade with her.
“I don’t know why he would go after Artie. Artie hardly knows him at all, and he’s rarely been in the mountains.”
“H-he requested Artie specifically.” Dorothy found it difficult to speak around the lump in her throat. “I-I’m not supposed to tell that part but…”
Rumple had made her promise not to tell where she got the gold or about his secret meeting. Dorothy had kept her promise up until now. She couldn’t recall exactly what she had told her father in her first distress. She had told Theo more than she planned. She did not know how much she would tell Kat, beyond the news that Rumple had taken him and planned to kill him, if she didn’t fulfil his demands.
“He requested him.” Kat repeated the words to herself.
“D-do you know R-Rumple?”
Kat turned her dark eyes onto Dorothy. “I know about him. Pop knows him better, or did at one time. He could tell you, if he were here. He knew Rumple’s father, but that isn’t his real name, you know. He earned that over the years through his careless looks.”
“I know that it isn’t.” Dorothy wondered if her heartbeat would ever stop resembling a hammer against her ribcage. “I don’t know his actual name. D-do you?”
“He’s Apache.” Kat straightened her shoulders when she spoke. “The Apache used to view the Superstition Mountains as sacred ground. The tribes would run off those who would take gold or silver from the mountains, killing them to protect the mountains from sacrilege.”
“The Apache people don’t do that anymore.” Dorothy felt confused.
“No.” Kat pushed her hair out of her eyes. “No, we don’t. I can’t say I know how many still view the mountains as sacred. I only view them as such in that God’s creation is a sacred reminder of His power and ability.”
“What does that have to do with the man deciding to kill my brother?” Theo had spoken very little since their arrival.
Kat frowned but turned back to Dorothy’s question instead. “I do know his name. It’s Walter. Walter Rathmann. He is the son of one of my father’s distant cousins.”
Dorothy fidgeted. “You’re related to him?”
“I am.” Kat’s manner seemed strange. Most of her modern lingo seemed to have faded. “The Apache don’t go about knocking people off in the Superstition Mountains anymore or those who take from a mine. Walter’s father though, got it into his head that not all of the mountain should be left for pillaging. The deepest treasures needed to be protected or-or paid for, as they are the most sacred. Anyone who took from those treasures became a thief.”
“Rumple—or Walter—believes the same, I think.” Dorothy recalled the conversation where he suggested she might make herself a thief.
Kat continued with a nod. “A thief had to pay. For many years, Walter’s father saw to it that they did.” A frown lowered her dark brows. “Walter is alone now, but he’s taken up his father’s cause. He was raised for it.”
“If it’s known, why don’t the authorities do anything about it?” Theo snapped the words out.
“There isn’t proof, Theo.” Kat turned to him, shaking her head. “My father knows these things through the family, and none of us have evidence. We just know. The deepest treasures of the Superstition Mountains are few and well hidden. Any evidence is hidden with them.”
Theo fell into silence again.
Kat pushed her hair back again with a sigh. “The punishment, once condemned of theft by a Rathmann, is usually death.”
Dorothy leaned forward. “You said that the deepest treasures of the mountains are few. How many are there?”
Kat shook her head. “You said that you must know Walter’s name and find out his source of gold. I only know of one source of gold that Walter protects.”
“D-do you know where it is?”
The hopeless, ironic smile that crossed Kat’s face for the briefest second dashed any hope that Dorothy had left. “No. No one knows.” She sighed again. “It’s known as the Lost Dutchman Goldmine.”
Dorothy saw Theo startle. He reached for his pocket. She felt dizzy.
He’s taken him to the Lost Dutchman. My father has never found it in a lifetime—how could I in just three days?
Kat smoothed her skirt but didn’t pay any attention to doing it. “No one knows where to find the Lost Dutchman, except Walter. Not since Jacob Waltz died. At least, no one who lets on that they know.” She frowned. “Artie would never have been there. I don’t understand why Walter would want him, unless—”
“Unless Dad is the one who took gold from the mine.”
Both girls turned toward Theo.
“Walter did mention your father more than once.” Dorothy watched him pull a book from his pocket, shaking his head over it. “He said that your father’s death made Artie’s necessary.”
“It would be Dad who took it.” Theo looked up. “This… This is his diary. He admits he went to the Lost Dutchman. He says that he took gold from the mine. His story doesn’t fully add up, but if he did find the mine…”
“If your father took the gold, why does Artie need to pay the debt? Mr. Sinclair has already died.”
“Because Walter didn’t kill him.” Dorothy and Theo both turned toward Kat. “Unless Artie went with him.”
“He didn’t.” Theo spoke adamantly.
Kat shook her head. “Walter’s father made up his own system of justice. If your father didn’t die as a punishment for his theft, then the debt has not been filled. He-he will take payment in the next best way, from the son of the thief.”
Dorothy’s heart hammered faster. The price must be paid.
“Do you know the Superstition Mountains, Kat?” Theo turned through the pages in the diary.
“I’ve never been allowed to go there.” Kat watched him with wondering eyes. “Pop has few rules, but that is a strong one. Why?”
Theo looked up at Dorothy instead. “How well do you know them?”
Dorothy toyed with her scarf. “I grew up in them. My father used to take me on his searches for the Lost Dutchman when I was a child, so we wandered a good bit. I still go into the mountains, but I rarely go far.”
Theo crossed the room, holding the open diary toward her. A sketch, rough and drawn in ink, filled an open page. Beside it seemed to be a list of scrawled directions. “Could you find the mine using this?”
The instructions did not seem over clear, but they did seem to be in a proper order. Probably to be followed after one found the place represented by the sketch.
“I-I think I might recognize the place. It’s a junction of two canyons. Father took me there frequently.” She looked up at Theo. “I could be wrong though. It could be more than one place!”
“Then we try the junction. It’s the only and best clue we’ve got.”
Kat stood. “You’re going with her?”
“Rumple might not like it.” Dorothy quailed at the thought of going alone, but she would do it. It would take a lot of prayer and determination, but she would do her best.
Theo, however, shook his head. “I’m not the sheriff, so you won’t be bringing the law, and you never said Rumple told you not to bring his brother. I’m going along.” He turned to Kat. “I need you to keep an eye on Hazel until we get back. I don’t want to just leave her with Myrtle.”
Kat seemed to be a few beats behind. “I-yes. Certainly. She can stay here if need be. Mother won’t mind.” She blinked. “Holy mackerel, Theo! Are you sure about this? What if you get lost out there, or something happens and you never come back?”
Dorothy had considered the thought already, but hearing someone else say it made it more chilling.
Theo, however, remained unfazed. “Then, you get to prove what a good cousin you are to Hazel.”
“Theo!”
“I’m going Kat.” He glanced down at the diary once more, before pocketing it. “Do you really think we ought to give up? Or that I should let the girl go alone? He’s my brother after all. Besides, I’d go crazy waiting at home.” He nodded at Dorothy. “Give me a minute. I need to talk to Hazel. Then, we need to start getting ready.”
Kat watched him leave the room. She turned to Dorothy, worry lining her normally cheerful face. “Are you certain that you can find the mine based on that sketch?’
Dorothy wished she could promise. “I-I don’t know.” The image of Walter bending over Artie with his gleaming knife came back to her. “I hope and pray that I can.”
Kat’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I will hope and pray that you can as well.”