The Mystery of the Monster Mountain - M. V. Carey [18]
“I know that they understand,” declared Smathers. “They’ve told me. Oh, I’m not sure about that jay. He’s a greedy one. He may not understand much of anything except filling his craw. Still, he’s beautiful to look at, don’t you think?”
“Very,” said Jupiter Jones. “Fortunately for him, he’s not a member of a rare species,” said Smathers, “or there’d be madmen out here hunting him so they could put him in a zoo. Now there’s cruelty for you — a zoo!”
Mr. Smathers’ face took on a reddish tinge, and his lips clamped together angrily.
“I read somewhere that animals live longer in a zoo,” said Pete softly.
“Live longer? Well, maybe they do, if you can call it living. They’re either caged or stranded in the bottom of a pit. If they’re big, the keepers are afraid of them so they get stunned with tranquilizers if they need any attention. You call that living?”
“I guess I wouldn’t like it,” admitted Pete.
“You know you wouldn’t like it.” Mr. Smathers’ watery eyes narrowed.
“Tranquilizers!” he said. “I know why that lout at the inn has a tranquilizer gun, but he won’t use it, not as long as I’ve got breath in my body!”
“Why does Mr. Havemeyer have a tranquilizer gun?” asked Jupiter Jones,
“Eh?” Smathers glared at Jupe as if Jupe were an enemy. “I won’t tell you,” he said. “If I told you, you might believe me and that would be a tragedy.”
He stamped away, out of the campground and up the road toward the inn.
“Now what did he mean by that?” said Bob. “If we believed him, it would be a tragedy. Why?”
“Havemeyer must want to capture something,” said Jupe slowly. “The only reason for a tranquilizer gun is to shoot an animal without killing it. Does he want to capture a bear? I think not. We’d find that easy enough to believe. No, Smathers is talking about an animal we might not believe in. Now what sort of creature is that?”
He stopped, as if reluctant to voice his thoughts, and looked at the others with wonder.
Chapter 8
Joe Havemeyer’s Vision
THE THREE INVESTIGATORS had almost reached the inn when a truck came slowly up the village road, gears grinding as the driver shifted down to make the grade.
“That must be the cement for the swimming pool,” said Pete.
The truck turned into the driveway of the inn and made its way past the parking lot and into the back yard. The truck driver got out of the cab. He and Joe Havemeyer began to unload sacks of cement and sand, piling them on wooden skids near the excavation for the pool. Hans and Konrad were not in sight.
“That’s a lot of cement,” Bob observed.
“It’s a big swimming pool,” said Pete. “Big and deep. I wonder if Cousin Anna knew the cement was coming today. She said she wanted to pay for it when it was delivered, and we haven’t found her safe deposit key.”
“If her reputation is so good, I am sure she’ll be able to sign for the cement,”
Jupiter pointed out. “Or her husband might pay for it. He’s the one who is so enthusiastic about the pool.”
The boys went up the front steps and into the inn. The big living room was empty, but from upstairs came tile voices of Hans and Konrad.
“Anna!” It was Joe Havemeyer, shouting from the back yard. “Anna, can you come out here for a second?”
Anna’s firm step sounded in the kitchen. The back door opened and then closed.
Jupiter, Pete, and Bob drifted through the living room and into the kitchen, where the window above the sink was open. They looked through the window and saw Anna, approach Havemeyer and the truck driver. She was wearing an apron, and she wiped her hands on a dish towel as she walked.
“Is it everything you need?” she asked her husband.
Havemeyer nodded. “I’m all set for now,” he said.
“Good.” Anna took a paper from the truck driver and examined it. “It is right?”
she asked Havemeyer.
“I checked it,” he told her. “The bill’s correct.”
“Good.” She turned to the truck driver. “I do not have the money here today,” she told him. “It is all right with your boss if I pay for the cement next week?”
“Oh, sure, Miss Schmid,” said the man.
“Mrs. Havemeyer,” Anna corrected him.
“Sorry,