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The Mystery of the Scar-faced Beggar - M. V. Carey [6]

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off your feet.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jupe, who was not really listening. He was staring curiously at one of the cardboard cartons that stood in a corner of the lobby. Half a dozen books were piled on the carton, and all seemed to be copies of the same title. Jupe saw black dust jackets and brilliant scarlet lettering. The cover illustration on the top copy showed a dagger stuck through a document. Dark Legacy was the title of the book.

“Hector Sebastian!” said Jupe suddenly.

He walked over and picked up one of the

books. Turning it over, he found a photo-

graph on the back — a photograph of the

man who now stood facing him in the dim

little lobby.

“Why, it is you!” said Jupe. For once the poise on which he prided himself

completely deserted him. “You are the

Hector Sebastian! I mean, you’re the one

who’s been on television!”

“Yes, I have,” said the man. “A few

times.”

“I read Dark Legacy,” said Jupe. His

voice sounded strange in his own ears. It

was high and excited. He was babbling like

a star-struck tourist. “It’s a terrific book!

And so is Chill Factors! Mr. Sebastian, you sure don’t need to rob any banks!”

“Did you think I did?” said Hector

Sebastian. He smiled. “Well, now, I don’t

think you just wandered in here looking

for directions. What’s this all about?”

Jupe’s face got red. “I … I don’t even

like to admit what I was thinking,” he said. “Mr. Sebastian, are you missing your wallet?”

Sebastian started. He felt in the pocket of his jacket. Then he patted his hip pocket. “Good heavens!” he exclaimed. “It’s gone! Do you have it?”

“My friend Bob has it,” said Jupe. Very quickly he told Sebastian of Bob’s adventure the night before. He described the blind man who had dropped the wallet, and he mentioned the bank robbery and the accident in which the blind man was hit.

“Terrific!” said Mr. Sebastian. “It sounds like the beginning of a Hitchcock movie.”

Jupe immediately looked crestfallen.

“What’s the matter?” said Mr. Sebastian. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Not really,” said Jupe. “It’s only that Mr. Hitchcock was a friend of ours. When Bob wrote up our cases, Mr. Hitchcock used to introduce them for us. We felt very bad when he died, and we miss him.”

“I’m sure you do,” said Mr. Sebastian. “But I don’t understand. What sort of cases? And where is your friend Bob, who found my wallet?”

“I’ll get him!” said Jupe. “He’s right outside.”

Jupe barrelled out the door and trotted across the parking lot. “Come on!” he called. “Mr. Sebastian wants to meet you. You know who he is?”

Bob and Pete looked at one another, and Pete shook his head. “Should we know?”

he asked.

Jupe grinned. “I should have known,” he said. “I should have recognized the name right away. My brain must be turning to oatmeal! He’s the one who wrote Dark Legacy and The Night Watch and Chill Factors. He’s been on all the television talk shows lately. Moorpark Studios just finished making a movie of Chill Factors, and Leonard Orsini is going to compose the score for the picture.”

Pete suddenly grinned. “Oh yeah! I heard my father talking about Chill Factors.

You mean this guy Sebastian is the writer?”

“You bet he is!” said Jupe. His face was flushed with excitement. “He used to be a private detective in New York City, but he was hurt when the small plane he was piloting crashed. His leg was crushed. While he was waiting for it to mend, he began to work on a novel inspired by one of his cases. It was called The Night Watch, and it became a big-selling paperback. After it came out Mr. Sebastian wrote another book called Dark Legacy about a man who pretended to be dead so that his wife could collect his insurance, and that was made into a movie. Remember? And then Mr.

Sebastian gave up completely on being a private detective and became a full-time writer. He wrote the screenplay for Chill Factors after the book was sold to Moorpark Studios. Come on! Don’t you want to meet him? Bob, have you got the wallet?”

“I gave it to you,” said Bob. “Don’t you remember? Boy, you really are bowled over!”

“Oh,” said Jupe. He patted his pockets,

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