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The Secret of the Haunted Mirror - M. V. Carey [1]

By Root 124 0
of the truck amid the mahogany doors and the stained glass windows. The truck began to roll slowly down the steep grade towards Hollywood. Jupe looked out and saw that most places in the neighbourhood were well kept. The street was lined with very large old houses. Some were built like English country houses, some like French castles, and many were Spanish colonial mansions with stucco walls and heavy, red tile roofs.

“Look!” Bob tapped Jupe’s shoulder and pointed to a really enormous Spanish house on the right-hand side of the road. In front of the place there was a car — a very special car. A black Rolls-Royce with gold-plated trim.

“Our special Rolls!” exclaimed Jupiter. “No doubt Worthington is somewhere in the vicinity.”

Some time before, Jupiter had won a contest sponsored by the Rent-’n-Ride Auto Company. The prize had been the use of the vintage Rolls for thirty days. With the car had come Worthington, the perfect English chauffeur. He had driven, the three boys on many occasions when, as The Three Investigators, they had been involved in solving mysteries, discovering hidden treasures, and thwarting some very evil plans.

After the thirty-day prize period had expired, a grateful client had arranged for rental of the Rolls whenever the boys needed transportation.

Uncle Titus slowed the truck and began to edge round the gleaming Rolls. Just then the front door of the big house was thrown open. A small, thin man dressed in a dark suit sped out, running as fast as his skinny legs could carry him.

“Halt! Stop, you scoundrel!”

Worthington raced after the man.

Uncle Titus slammed on the brakes as Pete leaped out of the truck and dashed forward, trying to intercept the fleeing figure.

“Stop, thief!” shouted Worthington.

Pete launched himself at the man, trying to get a grip on his waist. Worthington’s quarry was small, but he was agile. His fist shot out and Pete felt a sharp, stunning explosion of pain under his right eye. Then his legs crumpled beneath him, and he fell sideways. Footsteps pounded away and he heard a car door slam.

“Oh, dash it all!” cried Worthington.

Pete opened his eyes and shook his head to clear it. Worthington was bending over him.

“Are you all right, Master Pete?” asked the chauffeur.

“I think so. Just let me catch my breath.”

Bob and Jupe came running up to Pete.

“The guy got away,” Bob told him. “He had a car parked down the road.”

Worthington drew himself up to his full six feet. His long, usually cheerful face was red with anger and exertion. “How could I have let that wretch outrace me?” he exclaimed. Then he began to look slightly cheered. “At least we gave him a good fright!” he announced.

Chapter 2

The House of Mirrors

“WORTHINGTON, DID HE GET AWAY? I’ve called the police.”

Jupiter blinked. Pete rubbed his face in a dazed manner, and Bob gaped at the woman who had appeared in the doorway of the Spanish-style mansion.

“I am afraid he did, madam,” said

Worthington.

The woman came down the drive.

Jupe suddenly realized that his mouth was

open, and he shut it. It was not easy to

startle Jupiter Jones, but almost anyone

would have been startled at the sight of a

lady dressed in a heavy, wide-skirted

brocade gown, complete with hoops.

When she was closer Jupe saw that the

white hair piled high on her head was

really a powdered wig.

“Mrs. Darnley,” said Worthington, “I

should like to present my friends, The

Three Investigators.”

“Oh?” The woman looked puzzled for a

moment. Then she smiled. “Oh, yes. The

three young detectives. Worthington’s told

me about you. Now let me see.” She

nodded towards Jupe. “I think you must be

Jupiter Jones.”

“Yes,” said Jupe.

Worthington then introduced Bob and

Pete. “Master Pete attempted to intercept the intruder,” he explained.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” she asked.

“No, I’m not,” said Pete as he stood up slowly.

“Thank goodness. People who break into houses can be quite dangerous, I understand.”

Uncle Titus got out of the truck then.

“Mrs. Darnley, this is Mr. Titus Jones,” said Worthington.

She smiled broadly.

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