no sound came from within. Quietly they completed the circle and returned to the others.
“The door’s open a little bit,” Bess said softly. “Do you think anybody’s inside?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Nancy said with determination. “I’ll go and knock.”
As she started up the hill, the barking started again. The next instant, from behind the cabin, bounded a large black German shepherd.
“Chief!” the girls exclaimed.
The dog greeted them with frenzied barking and tail wagging. A short piece of rope hung from his collar. On his head was a swelling and broken skin.
“You poor old fellow!” said Nancy. She knelt beside the dog and calmed him, then carefully felt around the wound. “Someone knocked him out and has been holding him!” she said.
“But why?” asked Bess, keeping a wary eye on the cabin.
“Maybe because he got too close to the phantom horse,” Nancy replied.
George looked puzzled. “What difference would that make? Chief can’t talk.”
“But maybe there’s a clue on him—something to show how the trick was done,” Nancy replied. The big dog stood patiently as Nancy examined him, but she found nothing unusual.
Bess volunteered to stay with the horses and the dog while the other girls went to the cabin. The trio walked up to it and Nancy knocked on the doorframe. There was no answer. She knocked again, then pushed the door open cautiously.
The one-room cabin was empty, but plainly had been lived in. On the table stood two mugs and a coffeepot.
Alice darted forward with a cry. Beside the cups lay an unfinished drawing and a pastel crayon.
“My father! He’s been here!”
The mugs were half full of coffee. Nancy felt them. They were still warm.
“The artist and his companion have been here, all right,” Nancy agreed. “And they left just a short time ago.”
“Why would they do that?” George asked. “Unless they heard us coming and have some reason to hide.”
“My father’s being held prisoner,” Alice said positively. She glanced at the older girls and read their thoughts. “You think he’s connected with the phantom mystery because we found Chief here,” she accused.
Nancy tried to assure her this was not the case. “Your father is innocent, but someone else occupying this cabin may be connected with the Shadow Ranch mystery.”
Leaving the door slightly open as they had found it, the three hurried to report to Bess.
“The men may come back. Let’s wait here and see,” Nancy suggested.
The girls led their horses behind a clump of large boulders, out of sight of the cabin. Keeping Chief beside her, Nancy hid behind the screen of chaparral with the other girls and watched the cabin.
While they waited Nancy puzzled over the dog’s appearance. He had run from behind the cabin, yet minutes before she and George had passed between it and the mountain without seeing or hearing the animal. It occurred to Nancy that he might have been tied up some distance away and broken loose.
But why had he been held? There seemed to be no lead to the phantom on him. “Perhaps it was only because his captor is not averse to stealing a good dog.”
The afternoon wore on. It was hotter and increasingly cloudy. The men did not return.
Finally Nancy cast a worried look at the sky. “We must start back before it rains.”
Alice begged to stay, but the other girls knew this was not wise. Nancy promised her they would come again.
With Chief at the heels of Nancy’s horse, the girls started down the mountain, following a path which the River Heights visitors soon recognized as the trail they had been on the day before.
“So this path to the cabin is not impassable, after all,” said George, “as Shorty had claimed.”
Nancy remarked that the cowboy might have been mistaken, yet she admitted that his behavior certainly made him a strong suspect in the mystery.
As the girls rode along, the sun vanished and a chill wind set in. Suddenly a few large
“The door’s open a little bit,” Bess said softly. “Do you think anybody’s inside?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Nancy said with determination. “I’ll go and knock.”
As she started up the hill, the barking started again. The next instant, from behind the cabin, bounded a large black German shepherd.
“Chief!” the girls exclaimed.
The dog greeted them with frenzied barking and tail wagging. A short piece of rope hung from his collar. On his head was a swelling and broken skin.
“You poor old fellow!” said Nancy. She knelt beside the dog and calmed him, then carefully felt around the wound. “Someone knocked him out and has been holding him!” she said.
“But why?” asked Bess, keeping a wary eye on the cabin.
“Maybe because he got too close to the phantom horse,” Nancy replied.
George looked puzzled. “What difference would that make? Chief can’t talk.”
“But maybe there’s a clue on him—something to show how the trick was done,” Nancy replied. The big dog stood patiently as Nancy examined him, but she found nothing unusual.
Bess volunteered to stay with the horses and the dog while the other girls went to the cabin. The trio walked up to it and Nancy knocked on the doorframe. There was no answer. She knocked again, then pushed the door open cautiously.
The one-room cabin was empty, but plainly had been lived in. On the table stood two mugs and a coffeepot.
Alice darted forward with a cry. Beside the cups lay an unfinished drawing and a pastel crayon.
“My father! He’s been here!”
The mugs were half full of coffee. Nancy felt them. They were still warm.
“The artist and his companion have been here, all right,” Nancy agreed. “And they left just a short time ago.”
“Why would they do that?” George asked. “Unless they heard us coming and have some reason to hide.”
“My father’s being held prisoner,” Alice said positively. She glanced at the older girls and read their thoughts. “You think he’s connected with the phantom mystery because we found Chief here,” she accused.
Nancy tried to assure her this was not the case. “Your father is innocent, but someone else occupying this cabin may be connected with the Shadow Ranch mystery.”
Leaving the door slightly open as they had found it, the three hurried to report to Bess.
“The men may come back. Let’s wait here and see,” Nancy suggested.
The girls led their horses behind a clump of large boulders, out of sight of the cabin. Keeping Chief beside her, Nancy hid behind the screen of chaparral with the other girls and watched the cabin.
While they waited Nancy puzzled over the dog’s appearance. He had run from behind the cabin, yet minutes before she and George had passed between it and the mountain without seeing or hearing the animal. It occurred to Nancy that he might have been tied up some distance away and broken loose.
But why had he been held? There seemed to be no lead to the phantom on him. “Perhaps it was only because his captor is not averse to stealing a good dog.”
The afternoon wore on. It was hotter and increasingly cloudy. The men did not return.
Finally Nancy cast a worried look at the sky. “We must start back before it rains.”
Alice begged to stay, but the other girls knew this was not wise. Nancy promised her they would come again.
With Chief at the heels of Nancy’s horse, the girls started down the mountain, following a path which the River Heights visitors soon recognized as the trail they had been on the day before.
“So this path to the cabin is not impassable, after all,” said George, “as Shorty had claimed.”
Nancy remarked that the cowboy might have been mistaken, yet she admitted that his behavior certainly made him a strong suspect in the mystery.
As the girls rode along, the sun vanished and a chill wind set in. Suddenly a few large
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