The Mystery of the Laughing Shadow
“Bob,” Pete said, “maybe we could help each other. Can you roll over so that we’re sitting back-to-back?”
The two investigators struggled across the rough floor until they were finally seated back-to-back. Pete began to struggle with the ropes on Bob’s wrists. Sweat poured down his face, and he gritted his teeth. He worked for what seemed like hours, then slumped down exhausted.
“I just can’t get enough grip,” he said miserably.
“It’s the way our hands are tied,” Bob said.
Pete searched for a way. “If Mr. Harris hadn’t taken my knife, I could have held it in my teeth, and — ”
“Teeth!” Bob exclaimed. “Maybe we can loosen the knots with our teeth.”
“It’s worth a try. I’ll lie on my side.”
Pete lay flat with his back to Bob. The smaller of the investigators inched up to Pete’s wrists. His teeth took a strong grip on the first knot. Pete pulled against him, and Bob began to chew at the knot. Three times they had to stop and rest. Then Bob tried again.
“I can feel it opening!” Pete cried low. “Try with your hands now.”
Back-to-back again, Bob’s hands worked on Pete’s ropes. Suddenly, the first knot came loose. The second knot was easier, and moments later Pete’s hands were free. He quickly freed his legs, and then released Bob.
They immediately took stock of their situation. Pete went to the front windows, while Bob investigated the single rear window.
“The front windows are nailed shut,” Pete reported, “and I can see the guard. We couldn’t get out without being seen, even in the dark. He’s got a big lantern.”
Already the sun was down behind the highest peaks, and the land was turning a twilight purple. Darkness came early and fast in the mountains in winter.
“There’s nothing back here except a few feet of ledge and then the cliff.” Bob sounded discouraged. “I guess it’s hopeless to try to get out.”
The two investigators returned to the table in the middle of the room.
“At least I know where we are,” Pete said. “I can see the pass to the west. We’re about five miles from the big house, right in the high mountains.”
“Maybe if we sent out a signal it would be seen at the house,” Bob suggested. “If Jupiter is looking for us, he’d be sure to go to the house.”
“Some kind of light,” Pete decided.
They began to search the cabin. There did not seem to be much hope — the mountain cabin contained few furnishings, and Harris was a smart man. But, like many overconfident crooks, Harris had overlooked the obvious. Bob cried out in triumph as he unpiled debris from the lid of an old woodbin and opened the lid.
“Here’s an oil lamp!” He pulled out the dusty old lamp. “It’s got some kerosene in it! We can flash out a Morse code signal by covering and uncovering it. An SOS!”
“If we can light it,” Pete pointed out. “We don’t have any matches.”
Frantically, the boys searched the cabin again. Once more they were in luck. They found an old book of matches tucked away in the table drawer. Bob grabbed one and quickly lighted the lantern, while Pete got a flat piece of tin to cover the light and flash the signal. The boys started for the rear window.
They stopped, their mouths wide open in astonishment!
A dark face was peering in at them through the window.
The window was pulled open, and the two dark men in the strange white clothes climbed inside. They stood staring at the boys, their long knives gleaming in their hands.
17
A Dead End
Chief Reynolds was at his desk when Jupiter and Worthington burst in. Jupiter waved the tell-tale sandwich wrapper.
“Mr. Harris is a fraud, sir!” Jupiter shouted. “He’s trying to get the Hoard. We saw him driving away fast from his headquarters. I think he’s gone to the Sandow Estate, and I’m sure he has Bob and Pete.”
“Whoa, Jupiter. Let me see what you have.” The Chief examined the stains on the wrapper. “So he’s not even a vegetarian. The League is a fraud, too. Well, that fits.”
Jupiter gaped. “Fits what, Chief?”
“What I’ve found out,” the Chief said, and his eyes twinkled. “You boys aren’t the only detectives in Rocky Beach. I have been talking to the authorities in Australia. They know nothing about Ted Sandow, but they did know an Albert Harris. Your hunch was right.”
“What did you find out, sir?”
The Chief stood up. “I’ll tell you as we go. There’s no time to lose now. We haven’t found a trace of the missing dark men, but I have a feeling that when we find Mr. Harris we’ll find them. I’ve called Mr. Andrews, and we’ll pick him up on our way. Pete’s dad is away, unfortunately.”
“Where are we going, Chief?” Jupiter wanted to know.
“Why, the Sandow Estate. I’m certain that you’re right about that, too. That’s where we’ll find our villains.”
“Perhaps we ought to take the Rolls-Royce, sir,” Jupiter suggested. “Mr. Harris doesn’t know we use it, and he might try to escape if he sees a police car.”
“A good idea, Jupiter. have my men come along behind in the police car.”
The chief ordered four men into the police car and instructed them to follow the Rolls-Royce but not too closely. Then Worthington drove Jupiter and the Chief to Bob’s house. Mr. Andrews hurried out and climbed in.
“What’s happening, Chief?” he asked in a worried voice. “Have you located Bob and Pete?”
“Not yet, Mr. Andrews, but we will,” Chief Reynolds said.
“How did all this come about?” Mr. Andrews wanted to know.
Chief Reynolds quickly summed up all that had happened to The Three Investigators. “They’ve done good work, Mr. Andrews. You should be proud of them. Without them, Miss Sandow and Ted could be in grave trouble, and we wouldn’t have known until too late. The boys acted well and carefully. They had no way of knowing about Harris. He fooled everyone.”
“Just who is this Harris?” Mr. Andrews asked uneasily.
“A thief and a fraud, as Jupiter and the boys have shown,” the Chief replied as Worthington drove up the winding road towards the pass in the fading twilight. “I just talked with the police in Sydney, Australia. Harris is a wanted man down there. He’s a notorious confidence man, cat-burglar, extortionist, and much more. He’s often posed as the leader of some fake organization to fleece innocent people. He’s even wanted in Mexico, where he operated a fraudulent scheme to aid poor Indians.”
“Mexico, sir?” Jupiter said. “Was he there recently?”
“More than once, and the most recent visit was only a year or so ago. The Australians think he was also in California for a while less than a year ago.”
“That must have been when he learned of the Chumash Hoard and Miss Sandow,” Jupiter decided.
“I suspect that he read about her brother’s death in one of the local papers,” Chief Reynolds explained. “That was probably how he came to seek out Ted Sandow in England.”
They reached the top of the pass, with Worthington driving fast but with perfect control, and raced on in the dark night to the iron gates. The big gold car had long outdistanced the following police car. The gates were open. Worthington swung the car through them with scarcely a slackening in the pace of the powerful machine.
The great car roared on until Worthington brought it to a gentle stop at the front door of the big Spanish-style house. They piled out quickly, and Chief Reynolds motioned everyone to silence. There were no lights on in the house, and no sign of life.
“It looks like no one’s here,” Chief Reynolds said in disappointment
“They may have left some clue, though, as to where they went,” Jupiter suggested.
“Let’s take a look at least,” Mr. Andrews urged. “Bob and Pete may be locked up somewhere inside.”
Chief Reynolds nodded, and signalled to his men in the police car, which had just arrived and parked quietly some distance from the house. While the men spread out around the house, the Chief led Jupiter, Mr. Andrews and Worthington inside.