The Mystery of the Flaming Footprints - M. V. Carey [9]
“Yes, I live around here. I know him. Everybody in town knows The Potter.”
“Hm. I should think so. Does beautiful work, I understand.” Behind the sunglasses, the eyes went over Jupe from head to toe. “Nasty bump you’ve got there.”
“I fell,” said Jupe shortly.
“I see. Can I give you a lift anywhere?”
“No, thank you,” said Jupiter.
“No? Well, you’re right. Never take rides from a stranger, eh?” The man laughed as if he had just said something terribly funny, then started his car, backed on to the highway, waved at Jupe, and drove off.
Jupe rode back to the salvage yard. He did not, however, go in through the main gates. Instead he continued on down the length of the wonderfully painted fence until he came to the curious fish poking its head up from the sea to watch the ship sailing through the furious storm. Jupiter got off his bike and pressed on the eye of the fish.
Two boards swung up, and Jupe pushed his bicycle ahead of him into the salvage yard.
This was Green Gate Number One. In all, there were four secret entrances to The Jones Salvage Yard — and Aunt Mathilda Jones was unaware of the existence of any of them. Jupiter, emerging in the corner of the junkyard by his outdoor workshop, could hear Aunt Mathilda. She was evidently out behind the furniture shed, applying herself to cleaning up the recently purchased garden furniture. And she was urging Hans, with some vigour, to do likewise. She could not see Jupiter because he had cleverly arranged the piles of junk in front of his workshop to block the view. Jupe grinned, propped his bike against an old printing press, pulled aside a cast-iron grate which leaned against a workbench behind the printing press, and bent to crawl into Tunnel Two.
Tunnel Two was a length of corrugated iron pipe, it was padded inside with odd scraps of carpeting, and it led to a trapdoor in the trailer which was Headquarters for The Three Investigators. Jupe crawled the length of Tunnel Two, climbed up through the trapdoor, and reached for the telephone on the desk in the trailer.
The telephone was another improvement in The Jones Salvage Yard of which Aunt Mathilda was unaware. Jupiter and his friends, Bob Andrews and Pete Crenshaw, paid for it with money they earned working in the salvage yard, and with occasional fees The Three Investigators collected for solving a case.
Now Jupiter dialled Pete’s number. Pete answered after only two rings. “Hey, Jupe!” Pete seemed delighted to hear from Jupiter. “Surf’ll be up this afternoon. What do you say we take our boards and —”
“I doubt that I will have an opportunity to do any surfing today,” said Jupiter dourly.
“Oh? You mean your aunt’s on the warpath?”
“Uncle Titus acquired several pieces of garden furniture today,” said Jupiter.
“They are badly rusted, and Aunt Mathilda is now directing Hans on the removal of rust and old paint. I am certain that when she sees me, I shall join Hans.”
Pete, who was accustomed to Jupiter’s precise method of speech, simply wished him happy paint-removal.
“That is not why I called,” Jupiter informed him. “Can you come to Headquarters tonight at nine?”
Pete could and would.
“Red Gate Rover,” said Jupiter simply, and hung up.
He then dialled Bob Andrews’ home. Mrs Andrews answered. Bob was at his part-time job at the Rocky Beach Public Library.
“May I leave a message, Mrs Andrews?” asked Jupe.
“Of course, Jupiter, but I’d better get a pencil and write it down. You boys never seem to say anything in plain English.”
Jupiter did not comment on this. He waited while Mrs Andrews found a pencil and a piece of paper, and then said, “Red Gate Rover at nine.”
“Red Gate Rover at nine,” repeated Mrs Andrews. “Whatever that may mean. All right, Jupiter, I’ll tell him when he gets home.”
Jupiter thanked her, hung up, and retreated out of Headquarters and back down Tunnel Two. He opened Green Gate One, pushed his bike on to the street, and rode up to the gravel drive of The Jones Salvage Yard.
Aunt Mathilda was waiting beside the office, stained rubber