The Mystery of the Flaming Footprints - M. V. Carey [2]
The Potter examined the bedsteads stacked against one wall of the shack. He had purchased new mattresses and springs, he told Jupe, but to his mind springs and a mattress had a very temporary look unless a good solid bedstead was holding them up.
Jupe’s curiosity began to get the upper hand. “Are you expecting your company to stay for a long time, Mr. Potter?” he asked.
“I am not sure, Jupiter,” said The Potter. “We will have to see. Now what do you think about that brass bed with the scrollwork on the top?”
Jupe was doubtful. “It’s very old-fashioned,” he told The Potter.
“So am I,” announced The Potter. “Who knows? My company may like me that way.” He picked up the end of the bed and gave it a good shake. “Nice and heavy,” he remarked. “They don’t make them that way these days. How much?”
Jupe was puzzled. The bed was from an old house in the Hollywood hills. Uncle Titus had bought it just the week before. Jupe had no idea what his uncle planned to ask for it.
“Never mind,” said The Potter. “I don’t have to know this minute. Put it aside and I’ll speak to your uncle when he gets back.”
The Potter looked around. “I’ll need a second bedstead,” he told Jupe. “One for a boy about your age. What would you choose, Jupiter, if you were buying a new bed?”
Jupe didn’t hesitate. He hauled out a white wooden bedstead with a bookcase built into it. “If the boy likes to read in bed, this would be perfect,” he told The Potter.
“The wood is not the best, but Hans sanded it down and painted it. I imagine it looks better now than when it was new.”
The Potter was delighted. “Fine! Just fine! And if the boy doesn’t read in bed, he can keep his collection on the bookshelf.”
“Collection?” questioned Jupe.
“He must have a collection,” The Potter countered. “Don’t all boys collect things?
Seashells or stamps or rocks or bottle caps or something?”
Jupe was about to announce that he did not. Then he thought of Headquarters, the old mobile home trailer concealed behind a cunningly arranged pile of junk at the back of the yard. In truth, Jupiter Jones did have a collection. He had a collection of cases solved by The Three Investigators. The records were all in the trailer, neatly preserved in file folders.
“Yes, Mr. Potter, I guess all boys have collections,” he said. “Will there be anything else this morning?”
With the question of bedsteads settled, The Potter could not decide what came next. “I have so little in my house,” he confessed. “I suppose two more chairs would be in order.”
“How many chairs do you have now, Mr. Potter?” asked Jupe gently.
“One,” said The Potter. “I have never needed more than one before, and I try not to clutter up my life with things I don’t need.”
Jupe silently selected two straight chairs from the pile on the right side of the shack and put them down in front of The Potter.
“A table?” asked Jupiter Jones.
The Potter shook his head. “I have a table. Now, Jupiter, there is that thing called television. I understand that it’s extremely popular. My guests might like to have a television, and perhaps you could—”
“No, Mr. Potter,” interrupted Jupe. “By the time a set reaches us, we can usually salvage only a few spare parts. If you wish to have a television set, why not buy a new one?”
The Potter looked doubtful.
“New sets are guaranteed,” Jupe pointed out. “If they are defective, you can return them to the dealer and have them repaired.”
“I see. Well, no doubt you are right, Jupiter. We can make do at first with the beds and the extra chairs. After that—”
The Potter stopped. Outside, in the salvage yard, a car horn was