The Waterbury Democrat., 1937-07-01
CHAPTER VII

Jacob Walz, "the old Dutchman," acquired ownership of an extremely rich mine in Superstition Mountain some time in the 1880's, the Arizona legends say. He was an eccentric man with 8 long white beard, fierce of countenance, massive of frame; drifter whose background only he knew. He himself admitted killing three Mexicans in order to steal their bonanza, MeXicans who were descendants of the original Spanish discoverers of the mine. But he worked the property alone.
 Walz would come periodically into the village of Phoenix, plunk down a bag of amazing nuggets and forth with drink all the liquor he could hold. Then he's come out on Wash ington street and yell like rebel.
 Waugh! he'd shout. I'm a two- legged hellion outen the hills, and I'll kill any damned fool who says I ain't!" He was not exaggerating.
 People tried to pump him about his rich mine, but he wouldn't talk, Cv6A1 WklCL1 OA uAlhs OOAAAC eA AASO " follow him to the mountain and he slipped back at night and killed them. Others kept bedeviling him trying to get share of his wealth, and he was afraid they might mur- der him for it.
 One day, therefore, he concealed his mine opening. He covered the hole with ironwood logs as large as his burros could drag, then piled rocks and dirt over them. He ob- liberated all traces of his camp and came back to Phoenix to wait until interest in his gold store should S,ibside. He told these things him. self, but he died unexpectedly with out definitely revealing the mines location. It was, he did say, some where near Weaver's Needle, the highest peak in Superstition, and not far from palo verde tree with pointing arm.
 Stuart Blake knew that bit ot history. When he rode out from Superstition Lodge that morning he decided to go up near the base ot Viewers Needle and scout around from there. The shortest route was six miles in, with much climbing, but his horse was hardy one. He recognized the Needle about midday, not more than mile from him.
 He had never seen 8 more beau- tiful region, never imagined on. as rugged and wild. He wondered where the ironwood logs log might lie concealed. It intrigued him to think of the fun and excitement if he should happen to find the Dutchman's gold; he pictured him. self telling Carolee Golfer all about it first. And telling Nina. And his friends back in Chicago. Stuart Blake was young and romantic romantic enough to enjoy day dreaming.
 His attention was caught sudden ly by hierolyphics etched on big rocks near him. They were strange picture writings, evidently of Indian origin, animal and human forms and add circular designs. They were interesting but he couldn't decipher them. He wondered if they were i'm portant to the mine.
 It was well past noon but he hadn't thought to eat the lunch he brought, nor even to take drink from his saddle canteen. The sur roundings were too impressive, and he was thinking of the palo verde tree with the pointing arm. His horse was puffing, so he dismounted to let the animal rest, dropping the reins as cowboys do. He walked a q series of boulders which gave him few hundred feet, climbed up over \ view in every direction for many miles. Only the Needle was higher.h The breeze whipped him, snapping his silk bandana. The sun shone in- tensely. He studied the landscape for a quarter hour or so, grew thirsty and climbed back down. again, his horse was gone.