William Arden - The Mystery of the Laughing Shadow

Jupiter interrupted, “Ted?… He knew?”

Mr. Harris stood with his mouth open, then slowly closed it again. “This could be very serious, Jupiter. Poor Miss Sandow — if Ted is involved in some devious scheme — it could break her heart.”

“He was at the gate after Bob and Pete found the first amulet,” Jupiter pointed out, “and he was out in the dark last night. How well do you know him, Mr. Harris?”

“Not well at all, actually. We met in England just as he was coming here. I was on my way to Los Angeles. so when he told me his aunt was a vegetarian, I decided to come to see her and try to enlist her support.” Mr. Harris stopped again. He looked grim. “We’d better talk to young Ted — right away!”

Jupiter had to trot to keep up with Mr. Harris as they hurried from the lodge and back through the forest to the house. Uncle Titus and Konrad were still loading the truck. As Mr. Harris strode into the house to find Ted, Uncle Titus saw Jupiter.

“There you are! Did you come here to work or not, you young scallywag!” Uncle Titus roared.

Reluctantly, Jupiter began to help Konrad carry an ornate old wardrobe trunk to the truck. As he worked he glanced now and then at the door of the house. Time seemed to crawl, and Jupiter fumed with impatience as he worked. Then Mr. Harris reappeared.

“Ted drove off somewhere. I think I had better return to my office.”

“If Ted goes to your office, he’ll be seen,” Jupiter said with a grin. “Bob and Pete are there watching right now.” Mr. Harris seemed to freeze. “What?”

“I sent them to watch for the dark men,” Jupiter explained.

“Jupiter!” Mr. Harris cried, turning pale. “That second amulet is still there in my safe. If those boys attempt any foolish move they could be in great danger! I’ll drive in at once. Your uncle is almost finished here. As soon as you get to Rocky Beach go to the police.”

With that ominous instruction, Mr. Harris ran for his car and drove off at a breakneck pace down the private drive to the main road.

After lunch, Bob and Pete met again at the salvage yard. They checked the telephone recorder but found no messages, so they left right away for the headquarters of the Vegetarian League.

They approached cautiously, alert for any signs of the dark men, but there was no sign of activity at the big Gothic house. Mr. Harris’s car was not in front or in the alley behind, and the front door was locked.

“He must be out at the estate,” Pete decided.

“Jupe’ll talk to him then,” Bob said, “but we’d better stay here. Maybe those men will come back.”

There was a narrow alley between two silent houses across the street from the Vegetarian League headquarters. Bob and Pete decided to squat down there beside their bikes and wait for developments. The barren hills where the dark men had chased Bob and Jupiter were baking in the bright sun, and for a long time nothing moved in the heat. A single turkey vulture sailed high above the hills. Pete eyed the great, soaring black bird uneasily.

“I hope that buzzard isn’t thinking of us,” he said.

“Vultures are very important to nature,” Bob protested. “They keep the wilderness clean and healthy. They’re really harmless and necessary.”

“They’re not necessary for me,” Pete declared. “I don’t like to think about what that one has on its hungry mind.”

For an hour not even a car passed on the hot street. Pete grew impatient and began to play with the small stones that lay in the alley. After a while he moved his legs, which were stiff from squatting so long, and groaned:

“This is one part of being an investigator I don’t much like — waiting and watching.”

“Jupe says it’s the most important part,” Bob declared. “Real investigators sometimes watch the same place for weeks.”

“Not me, thank you,” Pete said, and groaned again with impatience. “Why does First think those dark men’ll come back here?”

“I think Jupe figures that they want something Mr. Harris has. Some other clue to the Hoard.”

“Gosh, then they might show up any time.” Pete peered across the street with revived interest.

“Exactly, and that’s why it’s so important to watch.” Suddenly, from across the hot and sunny street, there came a muffled shout.

“Hello! Someone! Hello out there!”

The cry was faint but clear in the stillness of the hot afternoon.

“Hey, out there! Help!”

Pete whispered, “It’s from the League house. At the back.”

“Maybe Mr. Harris is locked in,” Bob said. “Maybe the thieves attacked him again.”

The boys hesitated. If the dark men were around, they might get into trouble if they showed themselves. But if Mr. Harris was locked in, they ought to try to help him.

“What’ll we do?” Pete asked.

“1 guess we had better take a look, but let’s be careful, Pete. If we see anything of those men we better get away fast.”

They crossed the empty street warily. Since they knew the front door was locked, they went cautiously around to the rear of the house and tried the back door.

“It’s open,” Pete whispered, as he turned the knob. He pushed the door open, and they walked along a dark hallway until they came to what had been the kitchen of the old house. It was empty now. They went through a swinging door into the rear of the cluttered entry hall. In the dim, cool hall they listened.

“I don’t hear anything,” Bob whispered.

“But I know that call came from somewhere in here,” Pete insisted. “Let’s try the office.”

They opened the office door carefully, but the room was silent and empty. Bob pointed to a cupboard door. The two boys tiptoed over to it and listened for a minute. There was no sound. Gingerly, Bob opened the door while Pete stood to one side, holding a heavy paperweight from Mr. Harris’s desk.

The cupboard was empty.

“That shout had to come from somewhere,” Pete said. “Maybe he’s shut in where there isn’t enough air, and he’s collapsed,” Bob suggested.

“Gosh, that could be,” Pete agreed. “We’d better hurry and look everywhere.”

Quickly they searched all the rooms downstairs. Finding nothing, they went up to the first floor. There they looked into a large meeting room that had been made from three smaller rooms. It had a platform at one end. Obviously this was the place where Mr. Harris had been attacked during his lecture.

“Hello! Hello! I hear you! Help!” The cry came again, from overhead.

Bob exclaimed, “He must be on the second floor!”

“Come on!” Pete cried, already running for the stairs. There was little light on the second floor. The windows were shuttered, and dust lay thick on a pile of planks strewn about the floor. The doors to all the rooms along the dark corridor were open. The boys stood there, listening intently.

Suddenly there was a frantic banging at the far end of the corridor. Pete picked up a large plank, and together they walked down the hall. The room at the end of the corridor was bare and completely empty. They stood there for a moment, waiting for another shout or a bang. Then Bob noticed the door on the far side of the room.

“There, Pete!”

Pete nodded, and the two boys approached the closed door. Bob tried the knob, while Pete stood ready with his plank.

“It’s locked,” Bob said. “Can we break it down?”

Behind them the door to the corridor slammed shut. They whirled, their eyes wide and startled. Pete held his plank ready to repel any attack. But no one was there. Only the closed door.

“Pete!” Bob cried.

The lock on the room door clicked from outside, and a familiar voice roared with laughter beyond the locked door.