The Mystery of the Monster Mountain - M. V. Carey [1]
“It has already been a long wait,” said Konrad cheerfully. “We have not seen Anna since we were children together, back home, before we come to the United States.”
“Well, well!” exclaimed the man. “Friends from home, eh? Anna will be real pleased.”
“Not friends,” said Konrad. “Family. We are Anna’s family — her cousins. Now we come to surprise her.”
“Hope she likes surprises,” said the man. Then he chuckled. “Hope you do, too.
Anna’s been busy these last couple of weeks.”
“Oh?” said Hans.
“You’ll find out.” The man’s eyes sparkled.
He reminded Jupiter of several of Aunt Mathilda’s friends who collected tidbits of gossip about their neighbors in Rocky Beach.
Hans and Konrad got back into the truck.
“I have a feeling that guy doesn’t miss much,” said Pete as they drove off.
“He probably doesn’t have much to do in the summer except keep an eye on everybody who goes up and down this road,” decided Bob. “Once the snow’s gone, how many customers can he have?”
The truck went slowly up the village street.
They passed an ice cream shop, which was open, and a drugstore, which was closed. The Sky Village General Market was dark, and so was a gift shop.
“I wonder what’s kept Cousin Anna so busy,” said Pete. “This place is really dead.”
“From what Hans and Konrad have told me,” said Jupe, “their cousin can always find something profitable to do. She came to the United States ten years ago and got a job as a maid in a New York hotel. Hans says that in six months she was in charge of the entire housekeeping staff, and in only six years she’d saved enough money to buy a little inn here in Sky Village. A year later she purchased a ski lift, and that must pay handsomely when the snow cornea.”
“She did all that on a housekeeper’s salary?” said Pete.
“Not quite. She had a second job, part-time, and she invested in good stocks. She is a smart businesswoman, and Hans and Konrad are very proud of her. They read all of her letters out loud to anyone who will listen and their rooms are full of snapshots she’s sent them. When Aunt Mathilda and Uncle Titus suddenly decided to close the salvage yard for two weeks and take a holiday, they jumped at the chance to come up here.”
“I’m glad they did,” said. Pete. “How else would we have got away for a camping trip? I’ve been wanting to try some rock climbing, and I hear the Sky Village Campground is great — and never crowded.”
“Too far from the super-highways,” said Bob.
“I just hope Cousin Anna doesn’t mind surprises,” said Jupe. “Hans and Konrad tried to call her before we left, but she wasn’t home. Of course, they’re prepared to camp out with us, so they won’t be imposing on her.”
The truck labored on and up, through the grove of pines which the gas station attendant had pointed out. Once they were beyond the pines, the boys could see a ski slope. It was a barren brown cut on the east side of the mountain, as bare as if some giant had shaved the hill clear of any tree or shrub that might interfere with the downward rush of the skiers. Running up the slope was a series of steel towers connected by cables. Every twenty feet or so, a chair dangled from the cables.
The truck pulled over to the left side of the road and stopped in front of a big white house that almost backed into the ski slope.
A sign in front announced that this was the Slalom Inn.
“I see that Cousin Anna is still a good housekeeper!’ said Bob.
The inn was a trim wooden building, white-painted and glowing in the afternoon sun. The windows were so crystal-clean that they were almost invisible. Unlike many of the buildings in Sky Village, Anna Schmid’s inn did not try to look Swiss or Austrian. It was simply a mountain lodge with a broad porch across the front. The door had been painted bright red, and plants in red and blue pots marched along the porch railing. There was a neat gravel drive on the left side of the house, and a small parking area which contained a dusty station wagon and