The Mystery of the Flaming Footprints - M. V. Carey [38]
Uncle Titus always paid strict attention when he was addressed by all three of his names. “Yes, Mathilda,” he said.
“Get the truck,” said Aunt Mathilda. “We must go up there and persuade that poor, misguided child to get out of that terrible house before something happens to her.”
Uncle Titus started for the truck.
“As for you, Jupiter,” said Aunt Mathilda severely, “I am very much annoyed with you. You take too much upon yourself. What you need is some work to do to keep you out of mischief.”
Jupiter didn’t answer this. Aunt Mathilda was an ardent advocate of work even when there was no mischief afoot.
“There are those marble garden ornaments your uncle brought from that ruined house in Beverly Hills,” said Aunt Mathilda. “They are absolutely filthy. You know where the bucket is, and the soap.”
“Yes, Aunt Mathilda,” said Jupiter.
“And plenty of elbow grease!” ordered his aunt.
Aunt Mathilda and Uncle Titus clattered away in the truck. Jupiter cleared a space in the back of the salvage yard and set to work with hot soapy water on the marble figures and the garden urns. The things were coated with years of soil and grit and mould. Jupiter scrubbed away, cleaning the face of a chubby cherub who held up an apple. Hans found him there.
“I see your aunt been talking to you,” said Hans, eyeing the scrubbing brush and the bucket.
Jupiter nodded, wiped off the marble cherub, and turned to a bulging urn with grapes clustered on its sides.
“Where is everybody?” Hans wanted to know. “I been over to house, and nobody there. Nobody in office, either.”
“Aunt Mathilda and Uncle Titus have gone tip to The Potter’s house to see Mrs Dobson,” reported Jupiter.
“Huh!” snorted Hans. “I don’t go to that place — not for a million dollars. That place is haunted. That crazy Potter, he’s walking round up there in his bare feet. You saw it. I saw it.”
Jupiter sat back on his heels. “We saw the footprints,” he reminded Hans. “We did not see The Potter.”
“Who else could it be?” demanded Hans.
Jupiter didn’t answer. He stared at the urn, which was an ungainly piece, and he thought of The Potter, who made such handsome things. “The urns on The Potter’s porch are much better than this one,” said Jupiter.
“Yah! Yah! His stuff’s good. But he was crazy anyway.”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Jupiter. “But I wonder why one of the eagles on that urn has only one head.”
“Nothing wrong with one head on eagle,” declared Hans.
“True. Except that The Potter seemed to prefer them with two,” answered Jupiter Jones.
Chapter 14
The Jolly Fisherman
IT WAS NOON before Aunt Mathilda and Uncle Titus returned to the salvage yard with the information that Eloise Dobson was the most stubborn creature on the face of the earth. In spite of Chief Reynolds’ urging and Aunt Mathilda’s considerable powers of persuasion, Mrs Dobson had firmly, and rather angrily, announced that no one was going to drive her out of her father’s house.
“She was ready enough to go last night,” said Jupiter.
“Then you should have seen that she left,” snapped Aunt Mathilda, and she stormed across the street to the house to make lunch.
Jupiter rinsed the last of the marble pieces with the hose and went in to take a shower. After lunch, he returned to the salvage yard. His aunt had neglected to issue any instructions for the afternoon, so Jupiter made his way to Headquarters through Tunnel Two, and then escaped unseen from the salvage yard through Red Gate Rover. He then hurried down to the Rocky Beach Police Department.
Jupiter found Chief Reynolds brooding behind his desk.
“Anything on your mind, Jones?” asked the chief.
“There is a man staying at the Seabreeze Inn who has been rather over-attentive to Mrs Dobson,” said Jupiter.
“In that department,” said the chief, “I think Mrs Dobson can take care of herself.”
“That is not what concerns me,” said Jupiter. “He has led Miss Hopper to believe that he is here to fish. However, he does not catch anything.”
“So? He’s got rotten luck.”
“That is certainly possible,