William Arden - The Mystery of the Headless Horse

The slim Investigator sighed with frustration. “Well, now we have two problems to solve, fellows. We must find the Cortés Sword, and we must free Pico!”

Diego rode off to Emiliano Paz’s, and Bob and Pete hurried back to Rocky Beach. The two Investigators tried to call Jupiter for the rest of the day but got no answer at the Jones house. As Jupe had predicted, his great-uncle’s birthday party was keeping him away till late. Finally Bob and Pete gave up and went to bed.

As Bob came down the stairs to breakfast the next morning, his father looked up from the morning newspaper.

“I see that your friend Pico Alvaro has been arrested on suspicion of causing a brush fire,” Mr. Andrews said. “That’s a very serious charge, Bob, and I’m surprised. Alvaro is an experienced rancher. He shouldn’t make such a mistake.”

“He didn’t, Dad! We’re sure that the sheriff’s made a mistake, or someone is framing Pico, and we’re going to prove it!”

“I hope so, son,” Mr. Andrews said.

Bob gulped his breakfast and then called Jupiter to report what had happened. Jupiter took the news about Pico poorly.

“Of course Pico didn’t set that fire, and you should know why! You could have stopped the sheriff yourself, Bob. Can’t you remember anything? We saw Pico’s hat ourselves.” Jupiter was grumpy because he’d missed all the excitement.

“Well, thanks a lot,” replied Bob, stung. “I just don’t happen to have a photographic memory like you. So when did we see the hat?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you at school,” said Jupe maddeningly.

“Great,” said Bob and slammed down the phone, now in as bad a mood as Jupe.

But the Investigators were too busy at school all day to even talk. Bob and Jupiter both regained their good humour and by the end of school were friends again. Classes ended early, so the boys had most of the afternoon free to pursue their investigation.

“Did anyone see Diego today?” asked Jupiter as the boys cycled through more rain to the salvage yard.

“I looked for him, but I didn’t see him,” said Pete. “I don’t think he made it to school.”

Diego hadn’t. He’d spent the day with Emiliano Paz trying to arrange for a lawyer for Pico. The slim boy was waiting outside Headquarters when the Investigators arrived at the salvage yard. As soon as everyone slipped inside the hidden trailer, Diego filled in the detective team on what was happening.

“We can’t afford a private lawyer, so the Public Defender’s Office is helping,” Diego said. “They say that it doesn’t look good for Pico.”

“We know he didn’t do it, Diego,” Bob said angrily.

“But how do we prove it?” Diego said, tears in his eyes. “And how can we save our land now? With Pico in jail he can’t do anything. We don’t even have enough money for bail!”

“What is bail?” asked Pete.

“It’s money that you leave with the court as a guarantee that you’ll show up for your trial if you’re let out of jail beforehand,” said Jupiter. “If you can raise bail, you don’t have to wait in jail for hearings to take place or for your trial to start.”

“The judge set Pico’s bail at five thousand dollars,” said Diego.

“Five thousand dollars!” exclaimed Pete. “Hardly anybody has that kind of money!”

“You don’t have to put up the whole amount in cash,” explained Jupiter. “Only about ten per cent. For the rest, you can pledge property — your house, say. Then if you don’t show up when you’re wanted in court, the court keeps the money and property. If you do show up, you get your bail back. Most people do show up — they don’t want to get in even bigger trouble.”

Diego nodded. “Pico would show up. His pride would not let him run away. But we haven’t got the bail anyway — either the five hundred dollars cash that the judge demanded or the property to pledge for the rest.”

“What about your ranch?” asked Pete.

“That’s mortgaged to Don Emiliano, so we can’t promise it to the court. We are trying to borrow bail money from friends. But for now, Pico has to stay in jail!”

“I think,” Jupiter said grimly, “someone may have counted on that. I don’t think that this is an accident. That hat was stolen somehow and placed near the campfire.”

“But how do we prove it, Jupiter?” Diego wailed again.

“We don’t even know when Pico last had his hat,” Bob added.

“But we do know, fellows,” announced Jupiter, “that Pico had his hat around three o’clock last Thursday, the day of the brush fire. Don’t you remember? He was wearing it when we met him outside school!”

“Of course, of course,” cried Bob, striking his forehead.

“And that means that Pico couldn’t have left the hat by the campfire! Before three o’clock, he had the hat. After three o’clock, he was with us, and then fighting the fire. If the sheriff is sure Pico didn’t have his hat at the fire, then it was lost — or stolen — some time between our leaving school that day and our arriving at the site of the brush fire!”

“Jupe?” Bob said slowly. “What if Pico lost his hat while we were on the way to the fire? He was riding in the back of the truck. What if the wind blew his hat off and carried it to the campfire?”

“Pico’s hat could not blow off,” Diego stated. “It has a draw-cord under the chin. Pico always pulls it tight for a ride.”

“And there was hardly any wind that day,” added Pete. “That’s what kept the brush fire from getting out of control.”

“Anyway,” Jupiter said, “that brush fire was certainly started before we arrived at the ranch. So if the hat blew off in the truck, it wouldn’t matter. It would mean that the hat got near the campfire after the brush fire started.”

“Except,” Bob went on in dismay, “we can’t really prove it, can we? I mean, we know Pico had the hat at three p.m., but it’s only our word against that of Cody and Skinny!”

“Well, our word is certainly worth something,” said Jupe huffily. “But you’re right. We don’t have any real proof. So we’ll have to find it! We have to discover exactly what did happen to the hat.”

“How do we do that, Jupe?” Pete asked.

“The first move, I think, is to talk to Pico and see if he can remember exactly when he last had his hat,” Jupiter decided. “But we must also continue our search for the Cortés Sword. I am convinced that Skinny and Cody know we’re looking for the sword, or for something valuable that will help the Alvaros keep their land, and that Pico’s arrest is an attempt to stop us!”

“So it’s back to the Historical Society to look for any other references to Don Sebastián,” Bob said.

Pete groaned. “That could take another hundred years!”

“It won’t be fast work, Second,” Jupiter conceded, “but not quite that bad. We have just two days to concentrate on — 15th and 16th September, 1846. Don Sebastián was a prisoner until he escaped on 15th September, and no one ever saw him again. And it was the very next day, 16th September, that those three soldiers were found to be missing. No one saw them again, either.”

“No one we know about, you mean,” Bob said. He leaned forward in his chair. “First, I’ve been thinking about Condor Castle. We’ve been assuming that it’s a clue to the hiding place of the sword. But maybe it’s just what it ought to be up at the top of a letter — Don Sebastián’s address!”

Jupiter shook his head. “Don Sebastián’s address was the Cabrillo house — or his hacienda.”

“Not necessarily,” Bob said. “Fellows, I remember reading about a man in the same kind of trouble as Don Sebastián. He was a Scotsman named Cluny MacPherson. When the English invaded the Scottish Highlands in 1745 and beat the Scots at the battle of Culloden, they tried to kill or imprison all the Highland chiefs. Most of the chiefs who escaped fled the country — but not Cluny, the chief of Clan MacPherson. Even though he knew the English were after him, he refused to leave.”