The Mystery of the Monster Mountain - M. V. Carey [19]
“Sign the bill?” For the first time, Anna seemed a bit uncertain. Her whole body had gone tense.
“It’s a rule,” said the driver. “If we don’t get the money, we get a signature.”
“Oh,” said Anna. “All right. I’ll take it in the house and sign.”
“No need to go to all that trouble.” The driver took a ball-point pen from his shirt pocket and handed it to Anna. “Here. Just sign anywhere on the bill. Want to lean on the fender?”
“Oh.” Anna looked at her husband, then back at the driver. She handed the dish towel to her husband and put the bill on the fender of the truck. With the driver’s pen she wrote something on the bill. It seemed to the boys in the kitchen that she was a long time about it. When she finished, she handed the bill and the pen to the driver.
“That is all right?” she asked.
The man barely glanced at the bill. “That’s fine, Mrs. Havemeyer.”
“Usually I write more neatly,” said Anna. “Today I am baking bread, working with the dough. My hand shakes.”
“We all have our shaky days,” said the driver cheerfully. He folded the bill and tucked it into his pocket, climbed into the truck, and backed out into the road.
“Idiot!” snapped Havemeyer when the truck was gone.
“I told you I did not want to do that,” said Anna. “You could have signed.”
“It’s Anna Schmid who’s the old customer with the building supply people, not Joe Havemeyer,” he said. “You didn’t have to run off at the mouth to that driver. He’s not a penmanship teacher.” Havemeyer was silent for a second, then repeated,
“Idiot!”
Anna whirled around and started back toward the house. She had gone only a few steps when she stopped. “You are the idiot,” she said to Havemeyer. Her voice was low and very intense. “You and that stupid hole in the ground. I think you see things that are not real.”
“It’s real, all right,” declared Havemeyer. “I saw it up on the meadow and it’s been down here.”
“I do not believe it,” said Anna.
“You don’t believe anything you can’t taste or touch or count and put in a bank,”
declared Havemeyer. “You’re a plodder. You wouldn’t know an original idea if it came up and bit you on the lip. Without me—”
“I know. I know. I know all about that. You have the vision, hah? You have the imagination? Without you, where would I be? I think without you I would be better off. I am the one who takes the risk, and you are safe, you and your vision.”
“You’ll see,” said Havemeyer.
“I had better,” Anna snapped. She started again for the kitchen door.
“Cheese it!” whispered Pete.
The Three Investigators retreated from the kitchen to the living room and arranged themselves hastily in chairs. A moment later Anna stomped into the room, then stopped abruptly when she saw the boys.
“Oh,” she said, “I did not know you were back.”
Jupiter put down the magazine he was pretending to read and stood up. “We were down at the campground this afternoon,” he told Cousin Anna. “We had an interesting talk with Mr. Smathers.”
Anna nodded. “He is a strange little man,” she said. “He claims he can talk with animals and they understand him.”
Anna shrugged. “Men!” she said. “Their heads are filled with cotton — all of them.” She went past the boys and up the stairs, and the boys heard the sound of a door slamming.
“I think,” said Bob, “that the honeymoon is over.”
Pete scratched his ear and frowned. “I don’t get it,” he said. “She didn’t want to sign for that cement and she lied to the driver. She’s not baking bread. And what risk is she talking about?”
Jupiter Jones leaned against the fireplace.
“Cousin Anna thinks her new husband is seeing things. She doesn’t believe it’s real
— something Havemeyer saw-up in the meadow, something that’s been down here.”
Pete got up and began to pace back and forth, his shoulders hunched and his head down. “Could it be,” he asked, “that there is some truth in Gabby Richardson’s stories?”
“A tranquilizer gun,” said Jupiter. “A tranquilizer gun and something Havemeyer saw up on the meadow. Fellows, I think we know