Jonathon Wart and the Risk Factor Page 4
“Ah, they feared the ghosts, Miss. They all feared the ghosts and ran away,” insisted Mr. Mbuto.
“But hold on,” said Jonathon. “You just said that nobody could see the ghosts. How could they be scared away by something they couldn’t see?”
“Invisible! Yes, sir. The ghosts were invisible,” said Mr. Mbuto. “Naturally no one could see them.”
“And yet they were scared away?” asked Emma, her voice becoming a little agitated.
“Oh yes, all of the workers. They all fled the ghosts,” said Mr. Mbuto.
“Did anyone really disappear?” asked Lizzie eagerly. “We heard about disappearing people.”
“People? People disappearing? No, Missy. It was the ghosts that disappeared. They…”
“Hold it, Mr. Mbuto” said Jonathon. “This is getting a little ridiculous. Let me ask you a different question. If I opened up the mine again…you know…to take diamonds out of the ground, could I get any of the locals to work for me?”
“Ah, no, young master…the ghosts, you see, the ghosts are…”
“O.K., Mr. Mbuto, I think that’s enough for one day. Let’s all go back to town and get something to eat,” Jonathon said, turning to Emma and Lizzie. “We’ll ask a few questions around town and then come back here tomorrow and take a closer look at the mine.”
Chapter 10: Felicia Checks In
Early the next morning, Mr. Thumbs’ cellphone came to life with an unusually obnoxious ring. Mr. Thumbs stumbled out of his hotel bed and lunged for the phone, knocking it on the floor. After screaming some unpleasant language, he crawled after the phone and scooped it up.
“This had better be important,” he shouted into the phone.
“Of course, it’s important. It’s me, Felicia,” said the voice on the other end.
“Felicia,” Mr. Thumbs said grumpily. “I told you that I’d call you when I had something to report.”
“I couldn’t wait that long,” said Felicia. “I have to know now. What’s happened?”
“There’s some good news and some bad news,” said Mr. Thumbs.
“Good news first,” she said quickly.
“The good news is that I’m pretty sure that Jonathon and Emma are thoroughly confused about the mine. Mr. Mbuto, the caretaker who is actually working for me now, has got them so confused that they don’t know if they’re coming or going.”
“What’s the bad news?”
Mr. Thumbs hesitated. “Well, it’s just this. I was talking with some of the locals last night and asked if there was any chance at all that the old mine might actually still have some diamonds left in it.”
“They said no, of course.”
“Well, not exactly. A few of the old-timers said that they didn’t think the mine was quite played out—you might be able to squeeze a few diamonds out of it even now.”
“Then why haven’t the current owners tried?”
“Well, the place is supposed to be cursed, so it’s difficult to keep workers. But some of the old timers have told me that the younger generation doesn’t believe in the silly old curse and might be willing to come in and work the mine.”
Felicia was shocked. “Don’t tell me the mine might become profitable!”
“There’s a possibility of that, yes. And that’s why I’m going to Plan B.”
“You never mentioned a Plan B.”
“There never was one until this morning. Here’s what’s going to happen. When the group meets again in an hour or two, Mr. Mbuto is going to explain to Jonathon and Emma that the mine is completely worthless, but he has a buyer who might be willing to take this worthless property off their hands for a few thousand dollars.”
“And if they go for it?”
“If they go for it, I’ve bought a workable diamond mine for peanuts.”
“And if they don’t go for it?”
“Then plan B has a built in option. Mr. Mbuto arranges for a little accident to take place and Jonathon becomes incapacitated and is forced to give up the mine.”
“Mr. Thumbs! You wouldn’t!”
“Of course, I would. When it comes to money, there’s nothing I won’t do.”
Chapter 11: A Closer Look
By 10:00 that morning, Jonathan, Emma and Lizzie were once again standing at the edge of the mine, hoping to make some sense of the stories Mr. Mbuto had told them the day before. Mr. Mbuto walked up to greet them with a big smile on his face.
“Good morning!” said Mr. Mbuto brightly.
“Hello, Mr. Mbuto,” said Emma, nodding to him politely.
“Hi,” said Jonathan, not quite as warmly.
Mr. Mbuto adopted a sad expression. “My friends, I have been feeling very guilty.”
“Guilty, Mr. Mbuto? About what?” asked Emma warily.
“Guilty about feeding us a bunch of fairy tales yesterday?” asked Lizzie rather impolitely.
“No, no!” said Mr. Mbuto, still smiling broadly. “Guilty for not being completely truthful with you about the mine yesterday.”
“I’m glad you admit that…” began Emma.
“You see,” interrupted Mr. Mbuto, “I should have told you right away that the mine is completely worthless. There are no diamonds in this mine. There haven’t been diamonds in this mine for years and years. I tell you that the mine is worth nothing.”
“Maybe,” said Jonathan warily, “but maybe not…”
“Yes, it is completely worthless,” interrupted Mr. Mbuto once again. “But never fear, for I have discovered a buyer for you who will take this worthless property off your hands forever.”
“A buyer?” asked Emma, a puzzled expression crossing her face.
“But I have no intention of selling…” began Jonathon.
“Yes, a buyer,” interrupted Mr. Mbuto yet again. “I know a gentleman who is generous enough to offer you $5,000 for this completely worthless mine.”
“But if it’s so worthless…” began Lizzie.
“Hold on for a minute, Mr. Mbuto,” said Jonathon, holding up his hand for silence. “I want to do something I should have done yesterday when we first came to see the mine. I want to take a closer look.”
“But there is nothing to see,” demanded Mr. Mbuto. “It is a big empty pit with tracks dug in the side for the railroad cars to go up and down. But there are no longer any railroad cars. And it is very dangerous. If you go down there, you may be injured.”
“It looks to me like there’s an elevator way over there on the other side of the pit,” said Jonathon, pointing to a somewhat decrepit old tower that looked like the top of an oil well. “How about we take that down for a closer look?”
“Really, Jonathon? Is that wise?” asked Emma. “I mean, it doesn’t look like a very sturdy structure from here.”
“What was that elevator used for, Mr. Mbuto?” asked Jonathon.
“The old lift used to carry the workers down to the bottom of the pit and then back up again,” he replied.
“So if it works for the workers, it should work for us.”
“Oh no, Master Jonathon!” Mbuto cried. “Very dangerous! Many have died in that elevator.”
“Get real, Mr. Mbuto!” challenged Lizzie. “I’ll bet nobody ever died in that thing…although I must admit it does sort of look like it’s falling apart.”
“Let’s get serious for a moment, Mr. Mbuto,” said Emma. “Are you saying that people have actually been killed in that elevator?”
Mr. Mbuto paused for a moment and turned to Emma. “Well, not exactly killed, Miss Emma. But shaken…yes, shaken very badly.”
“There’s a big difference between shaken and killed,” said Jonathon calmly. “I say we go for it. If this place is worth spending $8,000 for, it’s worth getting to the bottom of it. What do you say, Lizzie?”
“No one’s ever accused me of thinking twice,” said Lizzie enthusiastically. “Let’s go for it!”
“I don’t know about this,” Emma said. “Someone’s got to be the voice of reason here.”
A few minutes later, the three stood by the entrance to the elevator, attempting to examine it, but a little hesitant to actually go inside. It was not in great shape. Mr. Mbuto stood a few feet away, shaking his head.
“So what do you think?” asked Jonathon, gently shaking one of the posts that anchored the elevator structure onto the soft ground at the mouth of the pit. “It looks pretty sturdy…sort of.”
“Yeah…sort of,” echoed Lizzie.
“I really don’t know about this,” said Emma. “Do we really want to take a chance on this?”
Jonathon hesitated for a second, then smiled and nodded his head energetically. “Sure we do! Because it’s just what Uncle Wart would have wanted us to do. Take a chance! Do something risky!”
“Jonathon’s right!” chimed in Lizzie. “Let’s do it! Let’s do it for good old Uncle Wart!” At that, Lizzie plunged ahead, swung the gate open with one sweeping motion and charged directly into the elevator car, which wobbled slightly as it absorbed her weight.
“Lizzie! Wait!” protested Emma. But it was too late. Jonathon had followed his sister and the two of them stood there, holding on to the sides of the elevator and grinning broadly at Emma.
“Well, if you two are going down, I guess I have to go down with you,” said Emma, her eyes widening. But as Emma entered the elevator, it began to shake violently. Emma quickly grabbed on to one of the straps that hung down from the wooden slats overhead while Jonathon and Emma clutched ferociously to the sides of the elevator. Seconds later, the elevator began to descend slowly, about a foot every ten seconds.
“Mr. Mbuto,” yelled Emma, her head twisting around violently to search for him. “Do you know how to run this thing?”
But Mr. Mbuto was nowhere to be seen.
Just then, Jonathon pointed to what appeared to be a small panel on the back wall of the elevator. “Look!” he cried. “Maybe it’s the controls.”
Jonathon grabbed for the door of the panel, but it came off in his hands. “Oops!” he said quietly.
“Oops nothing!” screamed Lizzie. “You’ve got to stop this thing!”
Meanwhile Jonathon was peering intently into the control panel. “Say…this doesn’t look that complicated. I think I can work this thing.”
“So work it, Jonathon, please! Stop it,” Emma said anxiously.
Jonathon grabbed hold of a large lever and twisted it to the left. After a few shudders, the elevator stopped descending.
“Can you get it to go back up” asked Emma.
“Sure,” said Jonathon. “It’s simple. But we don’t want to go back up. At least not until we’ve gone all the way down. We want to see the bottom of the mine after all.”
“What does this thing run on?” asked Lizzie. “I don’t hear any motor.”
“I don’t know,” said Jonathon, “but I think it may be operated by counter-weights. That’s why the tower over the elevator is so high and there are so many cables heading in that direction.”
“Doesn’t sound all that safe to me,” protested Emma.
“I’m sure it will be fine. Good old-fashioned 19th century technology. You can’t beat that!” Jonathon announced cheerily.
“Jonathon,” said Emma, “they still used outhouses in the 19th century. Are you sure that’s the kind of technology you want to rely on?”
“It’s an adventure, Emma, an adventure,” replied Jonathon. “And I’m sure that Uncle Wart would be proud of us.”
Emma sighed. “If you say so, but go slowly, Jonathon…go slowly.”
Chapter 12: Danger Ahead!
They descended very slowly, Jonathon putting the brakes on the elevator every once in a while just to make sure he could still do it. After about fifteen minutes, they thought they could see the ground below them, although it was so dark at the bottom of the pit they couldn’t be sure.
“So now what?” asked Emma.
“Since we seem to be close to the bottom, I’ll try to go more slowly now,” said Jonathon. “We don’t want to land too hard.”
In that second, the elevator car gave a jerk that slammed Emma, Jonathon and Lizzie up against the side walls. Then it fell—a free fall—about ten feet to the soft dirt floor below. The impact sent all three of the elevator’s occupants flying.
Emma, Jonathon and Lizzie all lay sprawled across the elevator floor, their arms extended and their faces pressed again the floor’s wooden slats. It was Emma, shaking her head back and forth, who spoke first.
“That is something that I never want to experience again,” she said, choking a little from all the dust in the air. “Is everybody alive?”
Lizzie groaned. “I love roller coasters, but that was ridiculous.”
Jonathon coughed. “I hate roller coasters and that was horrible.”
Lizzie scrambled to her feet. “So is everybody okay?”
“If I’m talking, I must be alive,” said Jonathon, “but not every part of my body is convinced of it.”
“Check for broken bones,” said Emma grimly.
Emma slowly got into a kneeling position and Jonathon struggled to his feet.
“Everything still seems to be connected,” said Jonathan, wincing slightly.
“Same here,” said Emma.
Lizzie, meanwhile was already snooping around, trying to get a handle on her surroundings. “Seems to be nothing but a lot of dirt down here,” she said.
“I guess we can’t be surprised by that,” said Emma. “You didn’t really expect to find half a dozen diamonds just sitting around waiting to be scooped up, did you?”
“Well, not exactly,” said Emma. “But you’ve always got to have hope.”
“Let’s get out of this death trap and take a look around,” said Jonathon, pushing open the elevator gate and stepping out to the soft dirt floor of the mine. Seconds later, Emma and Lizzie had joined him and all of their eyes went skyward.
They felt like they were at the bottom of a deep well. They could see the sky above them but it seemed like a very long way off. And somehow there was not a lot of light to be found at the bottom of the pit. They could see vague shadows and outlines of things but that was about it.
“We’d better keep together,” said Emma. “It’s darker down here than I thought it would be.”
“If the sun were directly overhead, we’d probably be fine,” said Jonathon.
“Well, it’s not,” said Lizzie, “and right now I think the place is spooky.”
Just then, all three heard a blood-curdling shriek.
“What was that?” murmured Lizzie. “Are there bats down here?”
“Could be,” said Emma, shivering slightly, “but bats don’t sound anything like that.”
“So if not a bat, what was that?” asked Jonathon quietly. “It sounded pretty close.”
“So what’s worse than a bat?” said Lizzie, trying to peer into the darkness around her. “Because whatever it is, it doesn’t sound friendly.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” said Emma. “Maybe the sound came from up there—at the top of the pit,” she said, pointing to the rim of the pit far above them.
“Sounded closer than that to me,” said Jonathon.
“Okay, but still no need to panic,” said Emma. “Let’s stay together and explore our surroundings.”
“I don’t suppose there’s a light switch anywhere,” said Lizzie.
Emma and Jonathon both gave her a dubious look and shook their heads.
“No electricity down here, remember?” said Jonathon.
“But a fair amount of broken down machinery,” said Emma. “I suppose that this stuff was used in the diamond-hunting process.”
“From what I read, some of these machines break up the larger rocks into smaller rocks. And the smaller rocks, if they look promising, are sent up on the railroad cars or that conveyor belt,” said Jonathon, pointing to a dila
pidated rubber belt wound around a huge wooden spool.
“I don’t suppose we can use that to get back up,” Emma said hopefully.
Jonathon squinted again the darkness. “I’m afraid not. The belt only goes up for about twenty feet and then seems to disappear.”
“Fine with me,” said Lizzie. “I’d like to disappear myself.” Just then, another horrible shriek pierced the air. “Okay, that’s it. I vote for leaving this hole immediately.”
“Take it easy, kids,” said Emma. “I’m beginning to get a little suspicious about all this.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth when a fuzzy white light appeared over their heads. Jonathon grabbed a stone from the ground and tossed it at the white light, which now seemed to be moving slowly. He missed, but Lizzie came closer with her rock.
“If you’re the stupid ghost we keep hearing about,” cried Lizzie, “you’d be better off haunting someone else.”
Almost immediately, the white light disappeared.
“Now I’m really suspicious,” said Emma.
“Suspicious? Of our ghost?” asked Jonathon, dropping a second rock from his hand.
“That was no ghost,” said Emma firmly. “That was a projected image, probably from some sort of industrial-strength flashlight that’s been rigged.”
“The ghost has a flashlight?” said Lizzie.
“Somebody with a flashlight is pretending to be a ghost,” said Emma, “and they’re not doing that great a job of it.”
“So this whole thing is a set-up?” asked Jonathon, a large frown covering his face.
“Sure,” said Emma. “We’re stuck in a spooky place. We know there’s an old legend about a ghost. All of a sudden, a very poor excuse for a ghost appears.”
“Yeah, that was a pathetic ghost. I wasn’t fooled for ten seconds,” said Lizzie confidently, her arms folded across her chest.
Emma and Jonathon both turned to look at Lizzie.
“Ten seconds tops,” she said. “Two seconds later I was absolutely fine.”
“So the ghost is a fake, meant to scare us. But the fact is we’re still stuck down here,” said Jonathon.
“So what’s the best escape route?” asked Emma, her eyes sweeping the bottom of the pit.
“There’s the conveyor belt, but we know that’s broken,” said Lizzie. “We could follow the tracks of the little train cars that used to run up to the top of the pit in those concentric circles.”
“I think ‘used to’ is the operative phrase, Lizzie,” said Emma with a sigh. “The cars and the tracks are long gone and the pathway they used to run on seems to have crumbled to nothing in several places. Besides, it would take a very long time for us to crawl out that way.”