"So Mrs. Jones, I believe you have something to show us?"

  "Oh yes," Great-grandma said. She seemed nervous. "Shall I call my husband in from the acreage?"

  "Of course you needn't," Mr. Spindler said, smirking. "You seem a bright little lady. You can handle this yourself."

  Great-grandma giggled and turned beet red. Why didn't she see through Spindler's slimy flattery? I was more suspicious than ever.

  "Well, all right then," Grandma said. She went into the pantry and came out with a flour canister.

  She reached in and pulled out a little bundle, wrapped in a dish towel.

  She plunked the bundle onto the kitchen table. I leaned forward anxiously. The land surveyors leaned forward anxiously. Corner by corner, Great-grandma unwrapped the lump. With one last flick of her wrist, it was re-vealed. I cried out in surprise!

  Chapter Fifteen

  "That's it?" I squawked. "A lump of coal?"

  But the surveyors were aheming and making pleased-sounding grunts.

  "Ah, coal! Excellent, Mrs. Jones," Spindler said.

  "Quite right," Ratzman agreed, reaching for the lump with squat fingers. His nose twitched back and forth. "Pure. Black. Mmm, yes, very good. Now you say your husband happened upon this coal in his cornfield? And you had no idea it

  was there?"

  "Uh, yessir," Great-grandma said nervously. "We don't know how much of it there is, either."

  "Well, that's what we're here to find out," Spindler assured her. "You could make a nice little nest egg if there are several acres." But Great-grandma didn't seem excited. In fact, she was squirming.

  "Oh, you gentlemen are so kind," she cried. "I cain't deceive you!"

  She ran to the pantry and pulled out another toweled lump. She thrust it into Spindler's hands. "You see?" Great-grandma said. "It's not all pure and black.

  This chunk seems contaminated. It's shot through with ugly, light rock, see?"

  Then she sighed and said lamely, "I'll make you some more coffee while you examine it." She disappeared into the kitchen. I peered over Spindler's shoulder at the lump in his hand. Great-grandma was right. The black coal was mottled with blobs of whitish-gray rock. But even more interesting was Spindler's reaction. He gripped the coal with trembling fingers. He gaped at Ratzman. His eyebrows danced and his lips quivered. Meanwhile, Ratzman's nose was twitching so hard I thought he was going to have a sneezing fit.

  "Spindler," he whispered. "Do you know what this means?"

  But Spindler coughed loudly. "The girl, the girl!" he hissed. Clearly Ratzman had forgotten I was there. He turned and glared at me. I smiled sweetly and tried to look innocent.

  "Would you like more dessert, Mr. Ratzman?" I cooed, shoving a plate of gingerbread at him.

  He started to snarl at me. But he was inter-rupted by Great-grandma's return.

  The men harrumphed and composed them-selves. Spindler turned coy and cool.

  "Well, Mrs. Jones, unfortunately, you were right," he announced. "This defect in the coal seam could devalue your mineral rights, that is, what we could pay for your coal. Yes, it could take down the price quite a bit."

  "But we'll have to survey the land to be sure," Ratzman added, examining his fingernails casually.

  "Quite right," Spindler said, leaping to his feet. He grabbed the grayish coal chunk and slid it into his pocket. Then he rushed to the door.

  "Tell your husband to stay out of his corn field tomorrow," he ordered. "We'll be back then. Good day, madam!"

  Then Spindler and Ratzman hurried out the door.

  "Well, I do believe we've disappointed them," Great-grandma said sadly.

  Suddenly, I noticed something fishy. In their rush to leave, the surveyors had forgotten the other chunk of coal _ the nice, pure black one! I grabbed it and ran after them.

  "Hey misters!" I called. I caught up to them as the raced down the hill. "You forgot..."

  Spindler spun around. His eyes were nar-rowed. His yellow teeth were bared.

  "What do you want, you whippersnapper?" he growled,

  "I j-j-just wanted to give you this," I said, shoving the coal lump at him.

  "You forgot it!"

  Ratzman swiped the coal from my hands. "Thank you my dear," he hissed.

  "Thanks for nothin'" Spindler spat. "You'd do best to mind your own business, little girl."

  Chapter Sixteen

  I was trembling. I climbed back onto the front porch. Something was very fishy.

  Great-grandma poked her head out of the screen door.

  "Betty Marie, you have dishes to wash in here!"

  "Yes Mama," I said. But I continued to stare at the surveyors as they picked their way down the rocky path. Great-grandma joined me on the porch.

  "They sure are in a hurry, aren't they?" I said.

  "Well, they're boarding with the Widder Hayes," she replied. "And you know she lives way yonder down the holler. They probably want to get back quick and take a nap after that big meal."

  "Uh-huh," I said. But my mind was racing. Those guys were up to something. I had to find out

  what. I had to get away!

  "Mama," I blurted. "I just remembered, I promised I'd loan some embroidery thread to, to ..."

  Quick, what was a good, old-fashioned name?

  "Ethel! Yeah, Ethel," I cried. "She told me yesterday that she was plum out of red and desperately needed some. I promised I'd bring it to her."

  I held my breath. Please let Mamaw have a friend named Ethel.

  "Well, which Ethel, Betty?" Mama said impa-tiently. "Ethel O'Mears or Ethel Puckett?"

  I sighed with relief. "Urn, Puckett," I said.

  "Well she's our nearest neighbor," Great-grandma said. "She's just down the road a piece. You can go after you finish the dishes."

  Oh, no! It would be too late to follow the sur-veyors by then!

  "Did I say Puckett?" I said, slapping my fore-head. "I meant Ethel O'Mears!"

  "Oh, well, she's right far down the holler," Great-grandma scolded. "You'd better git, girl, if you want to be back by dark. I'll tan your hide if I have to send your daddy out looking for you!"

  "OK, Mama!" I cried. Then I ran!

  Chapter Seventeen

  Luckily for me, Spindler and Ratzman didn't know our rough mountain roads like I did. It was a cinch to catch up with them as they stumbled down into the holler.

  When I had them in sight, I started ducking behind trees and bushes to spy on them.

  They were giggling and hopping about. Spindler kept punching Ratzman's arm and yelling, "Son of a gun!"

  "Hmmm," I whispered. "What's he so excited about?"

  I followed them to a big, rambling house, which must have been the Widow Hayes' place. They went inside. I hid in a pack of bushes nearby, and waited.

  And waited. And waited!

  Dusk was falling fast. Great-grandma's going to take a switch to me if I don't start home right now, I thought. I was just getting ready to leave when the smarmy surveyors emerged from the house. They were carrying picks and shovels, cloth bags and what looked like measuring equipment. They started walking back up the holler. Back towards my house!

  I slunk along behind them. I followed them up the darkening road. They made a wide circle around my house and crept into Great-granddaddy's cornfield. Then, while I hid behind a tree nearby, they started digging. They began chipping away chunks of coal that seemed to be right below the surface! Ratzman held his lantern up to a piece of the coal.

  "Uh huh! Yup!" he crowed, jumping in place. "There's a ton of it!"

  "Hoowee, these hillbillies are dumb!" Spindler said. "Imagine, having no idea that your little shack is sitting on acres and acres of coal, not to mention diamonds! Hooo, we'll be richer than the Rockefellers when we bilk them out of this land!"

  Diamonds?

  I was so shocked, I fell backwards into some bushes.

  "Who's there?" Spindler hissed. He and Ratzman began inching towards my tree.

  I squinched my eyes shut. I pressed against the tree trunk. I tried to become invisible.

  But my eyes flew open when I heard the next sound: the cocking of a pistol!

  Chapter Eighteen

  The evil land surveyors, make that speculators, were only a few yards away from the tree where I was cringing. I had nowhere to go. I was dead meat! I dropped to the ground, preparing for Spindler's attack. That's when I saw it.

  A hole! It looked like the den of an animal, probably a fox. It must have been

  a fat fox because this hole was pretty wide. Just wide enough...

  Without a second thought, I jumped in, feet first.

  Luckily for me, the hole turned out to be a tunnel, a pretty deep one. I'd just pulled my head into the shadows when I glimpsed the shiny, black shoes of Spindler and Ratzman scratching around the tree.

  "Who's there?" Ratzman barked. "Show yourself."

  There was a long silence. I held my breath. I heard the men walking around, knocking branches out of their way and swearing.

  "Must have just been a deer or something," Spindler sighed. They walked away.

  I was shaking. That was a close one! I could hear the men talking as they finished their shoveling.

  "So, we should come up with a plan for this deal, eh?" Ratzman said.

  "Why bother?" crowed Spindler. "I've dealt with these holler simpletons before. They're so glad for a little cash, it takes almost nothing to get them to sign away their mineral rights. And after the papers are signed, well, it's not our fault if diamonds are discovered, is it?" They erupted in evil cackles. I was disgusted. But as I heard the men leave, I grew elated! I knew the speculators' entire scheme! All I had to do was tell my great-grandparents! They'd put an end to the deal, of course. Then they would mine the diamonds themselves. Our family would be set forever.

  In fact, we'd be more than set.

  We'd be rich!

  Chapter Nineteen

  "Pshaw!" snorted my great-granddaddy.

  We were sitting at the kitchen table the next morning. Even though I didn't get to eat breakfast (my punishment for coming home so late the night before) I stayed at the table to tell Mamaw's parents about the speculators' scheme.

  They didn't believe me!

  "It's true," I protested. "Those knobby rocks in the coal, those are diamonds.

  Who knows how much they're worth!"

  "Diamonds!" laughed Great-grandma.. "Nonsense. A diamond is sparkly."

  "Don't you see?" I cried. "I heard Spindler and Ratzman talking about it. They

  ..."

  "Enough!" Great-granddaddy roared. "I will not have my daughter telling me my business. Children should be seen and not heard!" He jumped up from the table and stalked out to the front porch. Then I heard him call,

  "Ah, good morning Mr. Spindler. Mr. Ratzman. We didn't expect you this early!

  Betty Marie, get these gentlemen some coffee." I kicked the table leg angrily.

  Then I trudged over to the stove to obey. The men stood outside, chatting with great-granddaddy and slurping up their coffee. Then the three of them trekked out to the cornfield to "survey." As if Spindler and Ratzman didn't already know exactly what lay beneath the cornstalks.

  An hour later, they returned. They sat down at the kitchen table.

  Great-grandma rushed to pour them glasses of iced tea. I stood in the corner of the kitchen and scowled.

  "Well," Spindler said, pasting a fake, sorrowful look on his face. "We've decided that we will do you the favor of taking those mineral rights off your hands. But with this impure coal you've got here, we won't be able to pay much."

  "Oh," Great-grandma said, sitting down heavily. "Oh, how disappointing. Well, maybe it would be best not to sell. Maybe we'd do better just to keep farming the land."

  "No? cried Ratzman. "You can't do that!"

  "What?" asked Great-granddaddy.

  Spindler cut in, glaring at the pudgy Ratzman. "What my colleague means is, this land won't be farmable for much longer. You see how close the coal is to the surface? That's called erosion of the soil. Once that soil's gone down another few inches, not a seed will grow."

  He shook his head sadly and slapped a hand on Great-granddaddy's shoulder.

  "I'm afraid this is your best option, Mr. Jones."

  I couldn't stand it. I was watching the family fortune slip away. This was the very reason I'd morphed into Mamaw. I had to act!

  "You know what I heard?" I called from my corner. Every head in the room swiveled towards me. "I heard they found gemstones over there in Camp Creek Holler. The folks who own the land well, they just built themselves a mansion!"

  "You don't say," growled Spindler, glaring at me.

  "Yup!" I lied. "I wonder if we've got any of those on our land. Maybe we should check, huh Daddy?"

  Ratzman began to sputter a protest. But Great-granddaddy cut him off.

  "I apologize for my daughter," he barked. He turned hurt and angry eyes on me.

  "Betty Marie, now you stay out of this," he growled. "I know my own business."

  Then he thrust his hand out to Spindler. "Sir," he announced, "you've got yourself a deal!"

  Chapter Twenty

  "Wonderful," exclaimed Spindler. He jumped to his feet and pumped Great-granddaddy's hand. "We'll just take the train back to Lexington and have our lawyer draw up the papers. Let's see, today's Tuesday. We can be back first thing Thursday for you to sign on the dotted line. Sir you won't be sorry."

  He and Ratzman bustled out the door so fast they overturned a glass of tea.

  They didn't even pause to apologize.

  Rude!

  I crept to the front door and peeked out at the speculators. They'd paused on the porch to adjust their fancy hats and gloves.

  "Hee hee, we did it," Ratzman whispered.

  "Yes, despite the efforts of that smarty pants hillbilly girl," Spindler hissed. "You know, she could make trouble for us."

  Absent-mindedly, he polished his gold pocket watch. "Hey," he said, "Don't you know a fella around here? A Clem Greeley?"

  "Oh, yeah," Ratzman replied. "Big brute of a guy. Mean one."

  "Quite," Spindler said dryly. "You know, he could shut up our little nuisance nicely, couldn't he?"

  I froze in terror.

  "Yes, that's it," Spindler said. "Let's go find him right now. You know, there are mine shafts all over these mountains. A little thing like her she's liable to fall right in!"

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I was sitting on the porch steps, wringing my hands. What was I going to do?

  Suddenly, I spied a small, wiry girl who looked about my age. She was tromping up the road to my house.

  "Hi there," she called. She waved at me eagerly.

  "Uh, hello," I said.

  She stopped at my feet. She cocked her head to the side. She wrinkled her freckled nose. Her blond hair, which was straight as a stick, was cut in a short bob.

  "Well," the girl said, planting her feet apart. "You're sure being stand-offish this morning."

  "Oh," I said, giggling nervously. "I'm always that way with people I've just met. Don't worry, I'll warm up."

  "Just met?" The girl cocked her head to the other side. "Why Betty Marie Jones, I'm only Ethel Puckett, your nearest neighbor and best girlfriend since you were two! Why I declare, I'm hurt by your malfeasance!"

  Ethel Puckett! One of the Ethels I'd lied to Great-grandma about.

  "Oh, Ethel!" I exclaimed. "Ethel Puckett! Of course!"

  "What's wrong with you?" Ethel asked. "You don't seem yourself. You're all discombobulated."

  Before I had a chance to answer, she chattered on. "How do you like that? I've used two extra-long words. Malfeasance and discombobulated. You dared me to learn a big new word every day and I am doing it! I'll show you."

  "Uh, right," I said, trying to laugh with her. But all I could do was sigh.

  "OK, out with it," Ethel said, punching me in the arm.

  "What's wrong?" she continued. "You've got that look that you always get when you want to tell something but you're being stubborn about it."

  I knew exactly what look she was talking about. I'd seen it about a million times on Mamaw's face. Now, of course, it was on my face.

  I gulped. Well, the grown-ups hadn't believed me. Maybe Ethel would.

  So I told her everything about the speculators, my spying and the lode of diamonds in my daddy's cornfield. I did not, of course, tell Ethel about my morphing. Nobody would believe that! When I finished the story, Ethel's mouth was frozen in a big, wide O.

  "Oh, my," she breathed. "Diamonds in the cornfield. Golly, who'da thunk?"

  "Sooo," I said impatiently, "You got any ideas?"

  "Nope!" Ethel said cheerfully. "Let me see a chunk of that coal with the diamonds in it!"

  "I don't have any," I wailed. "The speculators took the samples they dug up.

  And we can't get into the field because Great-, uh, I mean, Daddy's out there harvesting before the dig. And he's mad at me already."

  "Well I don't foresee us proving anything without the evidence, do you?" Ethel said. "We've got to get a hunk of that coal."

  "But Daddy will be in the field all day," I lamented. "And we only have two days!"

  "Well, after you stop your bellyaching," Ethel said, rolling her eyes, "how

  'bout we check the fox tunnels?"

  "You know about that fox tunnel by that big oak tree?" I asked.

  "Tun-nels! And excuse me, but we've been crawling around in those since we were in kindygar-ten," Ethel blurted. "Lord, your memory's slight today. Don't you remember that summer I was grounded for walking the ridgepole of the roof?

  And we dug into all those foxholes so I could sneak out and play with you? We must have dug a mile of tunnels down there. I bet they're still good!"

  "Well, at least one of them is," I remembered with a shudder. "One right by the cornfield! Let's go!"

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  We stopped at Great-grandpa's shed for picks and a lantern. Then we snuck around the outskirts of the cornfield, where Great-grandpa was hard at work.

 

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