The Mystery of the Death Trap Mine - M. V. Carey [2]
“Is that a crime?” asked Bob, puzzled.
“No. But there’s something funny about a guy who’s born in a town and who leaves when he’s practically a baby and then, years and years later, he comes back a millionaire and puts on this big act about how he’s so glad to be home. Only he’s about as friendly as a rattlesnake. Also, he opened the mine. The entrance was sealed with an iron grill, but he opened it and bought a guard dog to watch it. What is there to guard in a dead mine? The guy putters around the place in brand-new jeans and he’s even got a hard hat, like construction workers wear. The getup doesn’t match the rest of him. He’s got manicured nails!”
Allie paused. When the boys said nothing she went on with her recital. “He won’t let anybody near that mine. I smell a rat. He’s pulling some kind of fast one right in my uncle’s front yard, and I’m going to figure out what it is.”
“Lots of luck!” said Pete.
“Allie!” A man’s voice came faintly to them. Bob went to the periscope that Jupe had rigged up and installed in the roof of the trailer so the boys could look out without being seen. He put his eye to it and peered across the piles of scrap. “There’s a man with white hair and a big mustache near the gate. He’s talking to Jupe’s Aunt Mathilda,” he reported.
“That’s Uncle Harry.” Allie slid off the desk. “I told him I’d be at the salvage yard. You guys want to meet him? He’s nice — my favorite relative.”
Allie marched to the sliding panel and out of the trailer. The boys suppressed triumphant grins as they followed her out. The panel was not the only secret entrance to Headquarters. At least the girl hadn’t learned about the most important one — the trap door in the office floor. The boys and Allie picked their way through the salvage to the front gate.
“There you are!” said Aunt Mathilda when she saw them. “I knew you were around somewhere. And Allie! How nice to see you again.”
“I’m very glad to see you again, Mrs. Jones,” said Allie, in her most polite schoolgirl manner. “Uncle Harry, meet Jupiter Jones, Bob Andrews, and Pete Crenshaw.”
“Hi,” said Harrison Osborne. He shook Jupe’s hand and nodded to Bob and Pete. “So you’re The Three Investigators. Allie has told me about you.”
“Nothing good, you can bet,” said Allie.
The boys ignored Allie’s remark. Jupe reached into his pocket and pulled out a large business card, which he handed to Harrison Osborne. “If you should ever have need of our services, sir …”
Mr. Osborne read the card:
THE THREE INVESTIGATORS
“We Investigate Anything”
? ? ?
First Investigator – Jupiter Jones
Second Investigator – Peter Crenshaw
Records and Research – Bob Andrews
Allie’s uncle handed the card back to Jupiter. “What do the question marks stand for?”
he asked.
“The question mark is the universal symbol of the unknown,” answered Jupe. “The three question marks on our card stand for The Three Investigators — they’re our trademark. We specialize in solving any puzzles, riddles, mysteries, or enigmas brought to us.”
“I doubt that I’ll ever have a need for detectives in Twin Lakes,” said Mr. Osborne, with a chuckle. “But …” He was suddenly thoughtful. “But I could use three strong fellows like you at the ranch. And Allie really does need somebody nearer her own age… . Say, I don’t suppose you boys have ever done any pruning?”
“Pruning?” echoed Bob. “Why sure.”
“Good,” said Uncle Harry. “Christmas trees have to be pruned or they won’t be the right shape when they’re harvested for Christmas. I’ve been having trouble getting help in Twin Lakes. Why don’t you three come with Allie and me tomorrow morning and spend a couple of weeks at my ranch?”
He turned to Aunt Mathilda. “If you could spare the boys for a while, I’d like to have them. We’ve got plenty of room, and I’ll pay them by the hour, just as I’d pay anybody I got locally.”
Aunt Mathilda looked doubtful. “I don’t know,” she said. “I thought that this week we might clear away