The Mystery of the Headless Horse Read Free Page A

Pete.
    “I wish it were,” said Pico. “But it is only an arroyo. Rain water collects in it after a big storm, but it has no source of water in the mountains, as Santa Inez Creek does.”
    Now the salvage-yard truck turned right, on to a dirt road with avocado trees growing alongside. Soon it turned right again, into a broad, bare yard.
    “Welcome to Hacienda Alvaro,” said Pico.
    As the Investigators piled out into the dust, they saw a long, low adobe hacienda with whitewashed walls, deep-set windows, and a sloping red-tiled roof. Held up by dark brown posts and beams, the roof overhung a ground-level brick veranda that ran along the front of the house. To the left was a one-storey adobe horse barn. The ground in front of it had been fenced in to form a corral. Twisted oaks grew around the corral and barn and over the hacienda. Everything looked worn and bleak under the cloudy November sky.
    A short distance behind the hacienda was the dry arroyo that the truck had crossed on the main road, and beyond that the ridges loomed up. Jupiter pointed out the statue of Cortés to his uncle.
    “Is it for sale?” Uncle Titus asked Pico quickly.
    “No,” Pico said, “but there are many other things in the barn.”
    Hans backed the truck up to the corral while the others hurried across the dusty ground and into the barn. The light was dim inside, and Pico tossed his hat on to a wooden peg so he could see better to point out the family treasures. Uncle Titus and the Investigators gaped at what they saw.
    Half the long building held horse stalls and ordinary farming equipment. But the other half was a storehouse. Piled from floor to ceiling were tables, chairs, trunks, bureaux, chests, oil lamps, tools, draperies, bowls, pitchers, tubs, and even an old two-wheeled carriage! Uncle Titus was speechless at the sight of such fabulous treasure.
    “The Alvaros had many houses,” Pico explained. “Now there is only the hacienda, but the furnishings of all the other houses are here.”
    “I’ll buy them all right now!” Uncle Titus exclaimed.
    “Look!” Bob said. “Old armour! A helmet, and a breast-plate!”
    “Swords, and a saddle with silver trim!” Pete added.
    The visitors started eagerly rummaging through the storehouse. But Uncle Titus had barely begun to take stock of the objects when a voice shouted outside. He raised his head. Two voices shouted now.
    Everyone stopped what he was doing and listened. The voices came again — more clearly this time.
    “Fire! Fire!”
    Fire! Pell-mell, everyone rushed towards the door.

3
Fire!
    As they ran from the barn, the Investigators could faintly smell smoke in the air. Two men stood in the yard waving and shouting.
    “Pico! Diego! There!”
    “Beyond the dam!”
    Pico went pale. From the corral, everyone could see a column of smoke rising into the cloudy sky from the dry brown mountains to the north. It signalled the most deadly danger of all in the thick mesquite and chaparral of the canyons of southern California — a brush fire!
    “We called the firemen and the forest station!” one of the two men shouted. “Hurry, get shovels and axes!”
    “We must ride out!” the other yelled. “Get your horses!”
    “Use our truck!” Jupiter cried.
    “Yes!” Pico agreed. “Shovels and axes are in the barn!”
    Big Hans ran to start the truck while everyone else grabbed tools from the barn. Diego and Uncle Titus jumped into the cab with Hans. The others swarmed into the open back, where they stood holding tightly to the sides as the truck took off. Breathlessly, Pico introduced the two men who had given the alarm.
    “Our friends Leo Guerra and Porfirio Huerta. For many generations their families worked for Hacienda Alvaro. Now Leo and Porfirio have small houses up the road and work in town. But they still help us on our rancho.”
    The two short, black-haired men greeted the boys politely, then looked anxiously ahead over the truck cab as Hans turned towards the mountains