The Mystery of the Monster Mountain - M. V. Carey [7]
“I hardly think that will be necessary,” said Jupe. “Bob, does your father know anyone in Reno?”
Bob’s father was a newspaperman in Los Angeles, and he knew other newsmen in many of the cities in the West.
“Reno?” said Bob. “No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him mention anyone in Reno. But I could ask Dad to have the credit bureau in Reno report on Havemeyer. If Havemeyer ever opened any kind of a charge account, the credit bureau will have a file on him. Dad says credit files give you loads of information about people — where their bank accounts are and how much money they have and whether they pay their bills on time—lots of stuff.”
“Good,” said Jupiter. “We can call your father tomorrow.” He sat up and lifted the tent flap. Across the yard, all the windows of the Slalom Inn were dark except one.
“Joe Havemeyer is in Anna’s office,” reported Jupe.
“I guess he doesn’t have to pay attention to that No Admittance sign,” said Pete.
He sat up, too, and peered out of the tent. Through the uncurtained window of the office, the boys could see Cousin Anna’s husband. He sat at the desk with his back to the window, sorting papers and putting them into file folders.
“Tidying up,” said Pete. “I’m surprised Cousin Anna isn’t doing that. She’s supposed to be so neat.”
“I think I am a little disappointed with Cousin Anna,” said Jupe. “I’m afraid Hans and Konrad are, too. She didn’t seem pleased when Havemeyer asked them to stay at the inn. She won’t speak German with them. In fact, she doesn’t talk to them much.
She lets her husband do all the talking.”
“Family reunions don’t always turn out as advertised,” Pete remarked. He had gotten into his sleeping bag wearing jeans and a warm sweatshirt. Now he fumbled in the dark for his shoes. “At least Cousin Anna’s pastries lived up to their reputation,”
he said. “Since Havemeyer’s up, I’m for going over to the inn. I could use a glass of milk and something to nibble on.”
“You would mention food,” Jupe moaned, but he too began to put on his shoes.
Bob unzipped his sleeping bag. “Count me in.”
“Wait!” said Jupe suddenly. “Listen!”
Bob and Pete froze. There was a soft sound behind the tent, half growl and half inquiring whimper.
“A bear!” whispered Pete.
“Don’t move,” cautioned Jupe.
A twig snapped and there was a little scrabbling noise as if a fallen pine cone had been kicked aside. The animal came into sight and paused in front of the tent. The boys could see it silhouetted against the light from the office window. It was indeed a bear, a large, hungry bear. It sniffed in their direction.
“Go away!” whispered Pete frantically.
“Shhh!” warned Bob. “Don’t frighten
him!”
The bear was motionless, staring at the
three boys. They held themselves as still as
statues and stared back. Presently the bear
seemed to lose interest in the tent and its occupants. It sneezed and ambled off
toward the back of the inn.
“Whew!” Pete let out a sigh of relief.
“He only wants to raid the trash,”
whispered Bob.
Seconds later they heard a crash as a
garbage can was overturned. Through the
window of the office they saw Joe
Havemeyer leap up and start for the door.
Before he had gone three steps, however,
there was a flash of blue-white light from
the back of the inn.
A second later the boys heard a wild
yelping, and then a cry — a human cry!
The Three Investigators scrambled out
of their tent and raced for the back of the inn. They skidded around the corner of the building in time to see the bear, a dark shadow, lumbering up the ski slope. From the trees to the south of the inn came the sound of branches breaking, as if someone or something were running blindly through the thickets.
The light over the back door snapped on and the door crashed open. Joe Havemeyer burst out onto the small back porch, his tranquilizer gun ready. He glared down at the boys, then at the contents of the overturned trash can which were sprayed wildly around at the bottom of the steps. Then he gasped.
Mr. Jensen, the nature photographer, was