The Mystery of Wandering Caveman - M. V. Carey [20]
“and he says John the Gypsy couldn’t have. He never left John alone in there — not even for a minute.”
“So that means that during the night, somebody went in there and wiped away those footprints,” said Pete. He gulped. “That doesn’t make sense. The door was locked. Unless the … the cave man did get up. But that’s impossible!”
“Well, somebody left a footprint in the meadow, at any rate,” said Jupe. “I’m going down to the village for a few minutes. I saw a hobby shop yesterday on one of the side streets, and I want to get something there. You stay here and keep your eyes open.”
Jupe vanished down the ladder again, and this time he was gone for almost half an hour. When he came back, he had a package. “Plaster of Paris,” he said. “I’m going to make a cast of that footprint in the meadow.”
He began to rummage among the odds and ends on the workbench in the barn, and soon he had an empty paint can and several pieces of wood of varying lengths.
Jupe poured plaster of Paris into the can and wet it with water from the outside tap on McAfee’s house. Then he stirred it with a stick until it was about as thick as melted ice cream.
“What do you expect to prove with all of this?” asked Pete as the boys set out across the meadow.
“I don’t know,” said Jupe. “Perhaps nothing. But a barefooted person walked here, and I think we’d better have some proof of it before the footprint gets trampled or blown away in the wind.”
When the boys found the footprint again, Jupe knelt and sprayed it with a can of hair spray that he had also bought in town.
“What’s the hair spray for?” asked Pete.
“To seal the footprint and keep the plaster from picking up all sorts of dirt and debris,” said Jupe.
Next Jupe fashioned a rude frame with four wooden slats from the workbench. He held the pieces of wood together with masking tape and placed the frame around the footprint.
When everything was ready, Jupe carefully poured a layer of plaster of Paris over the footprint. He put a few twigs into the plaster to reinforce the cast and waited for the first plaster layer to harden slightly. Then he poured again.
“Good work!” said Pete.
“It’s too bad we don’t have a client to appreciate all of this,” said Bob.
“Do you suppose Newt McAfee would like to hire us?”
“Do you suppose The Three Investigators would like him as a client?” Jupe countered.
“No, sir!” said Pete vehemently. “He is one mean guy, and I don’t like his wife either. I don’t know how Eleanor Hess stands those two.”
Jupiter sighed. “The woman who owns the hobby shop knew Eleanor’s mother,”
he said. “Mrs. Hess was pretty, and the woman thinks Thalia McAfee was jealous of her. She hinted that Thalia takes it out on Eleanor. She said right out that Newt is so stingy he makes Eleanor pay for her room and board, and he’s made her pay ever since her parents died.”
Bob looked startled. “But she was only eight! How could she pay? Did her parents leave money?”
“They owned a house in Hollywood,” said Jupe. “McAfee rents it and collects the rent.”
“Oh,” said Bob. “And you got the hobby shop lady to tell you all that? How’d you manage that?”
“I mentioned that we were camping in McAfee’s barn, and she wanted to know how much he was charging. When I told her, she just shook her head and started to talk. She also told me that John the Gypsy can’t read or write. He supports himself with odd jobs, and she thinks Newt cheats him because he has trouble keeping track of the time he spends working for Newt.”
“Well, so much for John the Gypsy,” said Bob. “If he can’t write, he couldn’t have sent the ransom note.”
“He could be an accomplice, but somehow I don’t think he is,” said Jupe. “He isn’t really bright enough to be taken into anyone’s confidence. And I think he wasn’t acting this morning. He was really afraid. So let’s eliminate him. The case could be involved enough without him.”
“So we are taking the case, huh?” said Pete. “Who’s our client? Eleanor?”
“Do we have to have a client?” asked Jupe. “Isn’t the puzzle fascinating enough by itself? A fossil man, dead for ages, was