Emily's Fortune by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor Page A

up.
    Back in Luella Nash’s big house with the flowers planted just so, the bushes clipped, the walks swept,the leaves raked, and the grass mowed, one did not hop, skip, or jump. One did not skid, slither, or slide. And one
especially
did not run. But after a while, Emily discovered that her legs were stronger than she’d thought. She was glad of the exercise before the coach started out again.
    â€œOh, Mr. Tiger Man,” said Marigold playfully as evening settled down over the prairie. “Tell us about your adventures hunting tigers!”
    â€œYes, yes!” said Petunia with a giggle. “I get all tingly when I think of tigers. Lions too. Tell us, have you ever shot a lion?”
    Uncle Victor edged even closer to the window. “Ladies,” he said, “I believe you are misinformed.”
    This time Emily poked Jackson as they sat on the backseat and listened.
    â€œWe
will believe anything you tell us!” said Petunia. “We do
love
a good story!”
    â€œI’ll
tell you a good story!” said Jock, who was sitting across from them. “You ever hear about the Ghost of Pimple Pass?” He scratched his nose with one hand and his knee with the other.
    â€œPrickly
Pass, you idiot,” said Angus.
    â€œNo ghost there at all, you imbecile,” said Oscar. “You’re thinking of the Ghost of Phantom Hill.”
    Angus gave Oscar’s arm a slap. “Weren’t no hill at all. That’s the creek you’re thinkin’ of, Phantom Creek, where we found some gold our first trip out.”
    At this Jock hee-hawed like a donkey. “And it weren’t no new gold in that creek at all. Just my gold tooth that fell in the water.”
    â€œWell, if you’re not going to tell the story, I will,” said Oscar. “It was the Ghost of Phantom Hill, sure as I’m sittin’ here. And it was all because of the severed hand that was found at Killer’s Grave.”
    â€œWhat?”
cried Petunia. “A severed hand?”
    â€œThere it was,” Angus interrupted. “Just lyin’ atop the grave, cut clean off at the wrist. Many a murder’s taken place in these parts, and they say if you go through Prickly Pass when the moon is full and you hear this moanin’ off in the bushes…”
    Petunia shrieked and clutched Uncle Victor’s arm as Marigold reached across her and grabbed his knee.
    â€œLadies!” Uncle Victor cried, prying their handsloose and flattening himself against the window.
    â€œIf you ever hear a moanin’, it’s likely to be an old coyote got itself a bellyache,” finished Jock with a laugh.
    Angus glared at him. “…it’ll be the ghost comin’ back to look for his hand,” he finished.
    At that very moment, as the coach was about to ford a creek, the rain that had begun that afternoon became a downpour. The driver called for all the men and boys to push the coach out of the mud.
    Uncle Victor seemed glad of a chance to escape the women, and hurriedly opened the door. Out Emily jumped, along with Jackson. Her feet sank ankle-deep in mud and her little boots filled with water.
    â€œPush! Push!” the driver yelled, and Emily and Jackson put their shoulders against the coach, along with Oscar, Angus, and Jock. Old Mr. Muffit got out to see what was going on, turning up the collar of his jacket.
    Uncle Victor was up front with the driver, whipping the horses to make them go. At last, with a huge sucking sound, the stagecoach rose up out of the mud. Thedirty men and boys (and Emily) crawled back into the coach to wipe themselves off as best they could, and finally the coach was off again.
    Emily had gone so long without speaking that she was almost getting used to being quiet. But as the gold-digging men continued their stories of the strange things that had happened on their first journey out west, it was hard not to ask questions. And when Oscar began a story