Escape to Witch Mountain (12 page)

I
t seemed to Tony that he had hardly finished his prayer before it was answered. As he opened his eyes he glimpsed the small car rushing down the drive. At this moment, distinctly, he heard his name whispered from some point beyond the far corner of the house.

“Tony?” came the whisper. “Tony? If you can hear me,
don't
reply—other ears are listening. Just send me a sign. This is Father O'Day.” A moment's pause, then urgently, “Hurry—there isn't much time!”

Tony trembled with sudden excitement and relief. Suppressing a desire to leap shouting to his feet, he drew out his harmonica and blew softly into it. A large white pebble bounced across the parking area, took off, sailed past the house in the direction of the whisper, and tapped lightly upon the stones of an outdoor fireplace before it dropped.

“Praise be!” the whisper came again, fervently. “Tony, if you are hiding among those crates, give me two taps.”

The pebble rose again and struck twice upon the fireplace. “Good! Now, Tony, you two start crawling out of the back of the shed—then keep crawling till you can see the road. If I'm not there waiting, hide till I drive by. I have to leave now— someone's coming.”

Tony hesitated a moment, wondering if Father O'Day realized all that had been going on here. He doubted it, for the priest seemed to be too far away for his only normal ears to have heard everything
that had been said. Nor was there any way to tell him now without being overheard by someone else.

Tia had already thrust some of the crates aside and was backing out of their hiding place. He followed, and they crawled stealthily from the rear of the shed and began snaking down through the tall grass of the orchard, angling for the road. Momentarily he expected to see the bears come ambling behind them like a pair of happy black clowns. But there was still no sign of them when they reached the edge of the orchard, long minutes later. Nor was Father O'Day anywhere in evidence on the road.

An old truck clattered by, followed presently by a farm tractor and a slowly moving station wagon. The station wagon was crowded with men, and most of them seemed to be carrying guns. They had to be witch hunters.

A finger of coldness crept down Tony's spine. Was the hunt spreading out to the mountains, or had someone told them that the bears had been seen near here?

The station wagon did not stop, but his relief was only temporary. The hunt was spreading out. Soon, when it was learned that the bears were here, the orchard would be swarming with hunters.

What had happened to Father O'Day?

Suddenly, from some point beyond the lower side of the orchard, he heard a car start up and move toward the road. With his acute sense of hearing he could almost judge its location and speed, and he was aware that it was barely creeping along in low gear. After a while it stopped, as if the driver were studying the way ahead; abruptly, with a clash of gears, it whirled into the road and approached with the motor racing.

It was an old car, so spattered with mud that it was almost unrecognizable at first sight. Not until it was a hundred yards away, and
slowing, could Tony make out the big figure at the wheel. The driver was wearing faded khakis, sunglasses, and a battered tourist cap, and he might have been some camper or fisherman on his way into the mountains.

For a moment, with the sun glinting across the windshield, Tony was uncertain. But Tia leaped up without hesitation, and said happily, “That's Father O'Day! Hurry—I can hear more cars coming!” They raced for the road and scrambled into the back of the car as it stopped briefly for them.

“Thanks be to Heaven!” the priest said feelingly, and sent the car rushing ahead again. “Get down on the floor and pull that tarpaulin over you.”

As Tony raised the tarpaulin, something soft and black brushed against him and he heard a familiar meow of greeting. Tia gave a delighted cry that was actually audible. She hugged Father O'Day, then slid under the tarpaulin with Winkie clasped in her arms.

“How in the world did you happen to find Winkie?” Tony asked in amazement.

“I didn't find him,” the big man rumbled. “He found me. About an hour ago. I'd been watching for you all morning, and I'd about decided I'd better start searching along some of the back roads when the little rascal appeared. If he hadn't come when he did…” There was a pause, then the priest added, “I'm sorry I let you two in for so much trouble, but it couldn't be helped. Of all the incredible…”

“I don't see how anything could have been helped,” Tony said. “Who was it listening back there in the orchard when you first called to us?”

“Augie Kozak's hired man, an old fellow named Sam Meeks. Sam's a good soul, bless him, but we couldn't chance having him recognize me. Not with the way things are. Ah, the shock I had when
I found I'd sent you on a long journey to an empty house! When I couldn't get Augie on the phone, I called old Sam, and discovered Augie and his family had gone to Canada for the month. I almost told Sam to meet you at the bus, and decided I'd better not.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, Sam's a bit simple. He would have talked. And I realized that a man as clever as Deranian was going to trace you, in spite of precautions. So I decided I'd better get down here myself, as fast as I could.”

Tony swallowed. “We sure are glad to see you! But honest, we're awfully sorry about things. We've caused you such a lot of trouble—”

“Nonsense! Fighting trouble is half my existence. Tried to get here in time to meet the bus—not that it would have done any good—but I was delayed. Had to get a substitute at the Mission, and make other arrangements in a hurry. On the way down I had to stop and have the car worked on—the clutch was going bad. Then I heard the news. Of all things to happen! It's in every paper I've seen, and on the radio.”

Father O'Day paused. “Odd, but it was the bears that really shook people. Sort of clinched the witch idea in the public mind. Tia, did you
have
to open that cage?”

Tony was aware that they were swinging around curves and gradually climbing. He said, “Father, she
had
to do it—you ought to see those poor bears. They were half starved, and there wasn't even any water in their cage.”

“I saw them—got just a glimpse when I was crawling back to where I'd hidden the car. Tia, I don't blame you for freeing them—I hate to see wild animals locked in cages. But two black bears, plus a black cat and a whirling broom, are a heavy dose for some people. This country's gone quite out of its mind—”

The big man stopped abruptly. He grunted. “Saints preserve us!” he growled. “Looks as if we're running into a roadblock. We can't turn—back they've seen us. They're guarding the river bridge—it's the only way into the mountains from here. Hurry—get down under that camping equipment, and don't move. Hang on to Winkie, and may Heaven protect all stray black cats…”

Tony quickly shifted some blankets and burrowed under them with Tia. As he drew the corner of the tarpaulin down tight, he felt the car moving. It stopped, and now he could make out low voices and the scuffling of many feet.

Father O'Day's deep voice rang out cheerfully, “Hello, everybody! What seems to be wrong?”

Stark silence greeted him. Finally someone muttered, “If you don't know what's wrong, mister, you better git your head looked after. Or don't you read the papers?”

An older voice said, “Lay off him, Joe. Can't you see he's just another tourist on a camping trip? What we aim to know, mister, is have you seen them witch people sneaking around—or maybe them bears they're traveling with? An' don't tell me you ain't heard the news—everybody knows about 'em now!”

“Oh, I've heard about them,” the big man said easily. “But I can hardly believe they're witches.”

“We don't care what you believe, stranger,” a third voice said harshly. “But when a foxy-faced thing that looks like a girl goes up to a bear cage, one that's locked with two big rusted padlocks you couldn't budge with anything less'n a blowtorch, an' jerks 'em open like they was made of butter, then I say she's either a witch or something worse. Ten, twelve, people seen her do it. An' I reckon everybody around here has seen what the boy varmint done to the inside of the Fairview police station. He just stood there an' blowed
on his harmonica a little bit, an' that place near tore itself apart. Them's facts, stranger. An' you can't go against facts.”

“Extraordinary,” Father O'Day said. “Most extraordinary. But why are you all waiting—”

He was interrupted by a blare of static from a shortwave radio, followed by an excited announcement: “
Attention, all searchers!
Attention! The bears were seen at Kozak Orchards less than an hour ago! I repeat, the bears were seen at Kozak Orchards…
”

The volume was turned down, and the man who had spoken last exclaimed, “I told you so! They're coming this way. They're headin' straight for Witch Mountain!”

“Witch Mountain?” Father O'Day repeated.

“That's right. Witch Mountain. To git there you gotta cross this bridge.” The harsh voice rose. “All right, boys, before you scatter out an' take your places, make up your minds! You aiming to blast 'em, or take 'em alive?”

Immediately a half dozen voices began to argue.

“You can't take 'em alive!”

“Ben Purdy, he took 'em!”

“That's right, Ben took 'em—he just didn't know how to hang on to 'em.”

“I tell you, you
can't
take 'em alive! The only reason Ben Purdy done it was because there was folks around, an' they didn't want to give theirselves away. But now that everybody knows what they are—”

“Aw, shaddup! You ain't talkin' sense. I say blast 'em. That's the
only
way—”

“Blast 'em with what? You got any silver bullet? Didn't you hear what happened this morning over on Yellow Creek? Feller aimed right
at
'em—an' never even touched 'em!”

“Now listen to me, fellers: you know the Government wants them critters back. I hear they're offering a big reward—”

Father O'Day's deep voice drowned out the others, “Just a moment, gentlemen! As long as you have loaded guns, do you realize the danger every child around here is in? Suppose, in your desire to kill a witch, you made a terrible mistake and killed one of your neighbor's children. How would you feel? How would
he
feel?”

No one answered. In the silence that followed, Tony could hear the heavy breathing of the men around the car, and the uneasy shuffling of their feet.

“One more thing,” the deep voice of the priest went on. “If these witches haven't harmed you, why try to harm them? Why not let them go where they're going? If you're
sure
they're headed for Witch Mountain…”

He paused, and the man with the harsh voice said, “'Course we're sure! Where else would they go? That's witch country. Everybody knows about it.”

“Seems I've heard about it,” Father O'Day admitted. “How long have they been there?”

“First of 'em come to Witch Mountain way back in my gran'daddy's day.”

“And they're still there?”

“They come an' go, seems like. It's said they left for a long spell, but that some came back about ten, twelve, years ago. Leastways, that's when the music started up again, an' the lights. For a little while.”

“Music? Lights?”

“That's what I said, stranger!” The man was becoming irritated by the questioning. “How come you're so powerful curious about Witch Mountain?”

“You make me curious.”

“Well, if you got any fool notions about going there, you better git over 'em right away. Ain't no proper road to Witch Mountain, an' the only folks what live near there are them dumb summer people—an' they ain't got no better sense.”

“Thank you,” said the priest, and now his voice was unusually soft. “Witch Mountain. Yes, I'm beginning to remember about it. If I recall correctly, it's over near a little place named—isn't it Stony Creek?”

“You go through Stony Creek. But you got to go way on over the gap to Misty Valley. It's near there.”

“Oh. Misty Valley.” Father O'Day's voice sounded doubtful. “Well, thank you again. If you good gentlemen will let me over the bridge, I'll be on my way.”

As the car clattered across the bridge, Tony lay clenching his hands in alternate hope, uncertainty, and despair. Tia whispered, “It's all become so—so
confusing.
What do you think about it, Tony?”

“I don't know what to think. That witch business got me going at first. But it's been so many years…”

“Tony, what will we
do
if there's no one left?”

“We'll make out. Tia, don't you
feel
anything about it? You nearly always have
some
sort of feelings about things…

“Not now. I—I'm just too tired and hungry…”

Father O'Day said, “You two can come up for air. But keep your heads down, and be ready to pull that tarpaulin over you. We won't be out of danger till we get where we're going.”

“Are—are we going to Stony Creek?” Tony asked hesitantly. “Or Misty Valley?”

“It's too late to go to either place. And much too risky at the moment. I spattered mud over the car so Augie's hired man wouldn't recognize it, but if he happened to see the license plate…Anyway, we've got a lot to talk over, and I'm hoping Tia's memory will help us. Has she thought of anything new?”

“Yes, sir. A lot.”

“Good! As soon as we make camp we'll have a powwow. Wish I could take you to a motel so you could clean up and get a full night's rest—but that's out. We've got to hide. Have you two ever been camping?”

“We sort of camped at Heron Lake.”

“That's not the real thing. Before I left the Mission I had a hunch we might be forced to play hide-and-seek. So I tossed in plenty of blankets and all my old camping equipment. Then, when I read the news about you, I realized I'd better do some disguising. It won't fool Deranian if he gets a close look at me—but let's hope he doesn't look twice. At a glance I'm only another camper in a dirty car. Of course, he must realize that I would surely come down to hunt you—but we'll talk about that later.”

Suddenly he grunted, and asked slowly, “When was the last time you two had a decent meal?”