William Arden - The Mystery of the Laughing Shadow

“Boy, are you smart guys ever dumb!” the laughing voice sneered. The voice of Skinny Norris!

Bob and Pete rushed to the door, but it was tightly locked. Although Pete tugged and pulled and raged, he couldn’t budge it.

“Skinny Norris, you let us out of here!” Bob yelled.

“If you don’t,” Pete threatened, “we’ll fix you when we get out of here. We’ll — ”

“But you won’t get out.” Skinny taunted them through the door. “I’m just going to let the two of you stew in there. Serve you nosey brats right. Too bad Fatso Jones isn’t with you. I’d like to see that fat smart Aleck trying to get out of there.”

“You wouldn’t talk like that if Jupiter was here,” Bob said angrily.

“You shut up, Bob Andrews!” Skinny shouted. The envious Skinny hated to have anyone suggest that he wasn’t a match for Jupiter. “You’re in bad trouble, you hear?”

“You’re the one who’s going to be in trouble,” Pete said. “What do you think you’re doing anyway?”

“What am I doing?” Skinny snickered out in the corridor. “Why, I’m protecting private property, that’s what I’m doing! I heard noises in here when I was passing by. I came in, and guess what? I caught two trespassers cold.”

“You’re crazy, Skinny! No one’ll believe you.”

“No? The front door was locked and no one was here. Just what were you doing coming in the back way?” Skinny laughed nastily. “I’ve been watching that junkyard of Fatso’s uncle ever since Ted Sandow asked about you. I knew I’d catch you at something.”

Bob groaned. “Skinny, Mr. Harris knows we’re here. We’re working for Miss Sandow.”

“Don’t try to fool me,” Skinny said from the corridor. “Ted Sandow told me he was looking for a valuable statuette, and I could tell he thought you three had stolen it.”

“Oh, no!” Pete cried. “That was before we talked to Ted. He’s the one who hired us to find the statuette. Why don’t you stop trying to be smarter than Jupiter?”

“I am smarter than that fat show-off! You can just sweat it out in there. If Fatso Jones is so smart let him rescue you. I’m taking off. So long, wise guys!”

Bob looked despairingly at Pete, then walked over to the locked door. He could hear Skinny going downstairs. After a long time, they heard the back door slam.

Bob and Pete looked at each other hopelessly as Bob moved away from the door. They were obviously in a bad spot.

“The windows are barred,” Pete said, “and that other door is locked, solid.”

“It’s an old house,” Bob suggested. “How about the walls or the floor? Maybe we can find a weak spot — a loose board or something.”

Pete wasn’t optimistic, but he inspected the floor while Bob studied the walls. Unfortunately there were no weak spots in the floor.

“The walls are solid as a rock, too,” Bob said glumly. “Maybe Jupiter or Mr. Harris will come soon,” Pete suggested.

“Our bikes are still in that alley, Jupe’d see them.”

“Sure,” Pete agreed, “he’d know we were in here somewhere.”

The boys grinned at each other, but the grins were feeble. Each was aware of the fact that he was trying to convince the other that Jupiter would somehow come to their rescue.

“Maybe,” Bob said weakly, “Mr. Harris will come back.”

“And maybe he won’t, or not for a long time. Maybe he won’t come back until tomorrow.”

“There has to be some way out!” Bob insisted.

They looked all round the small room again without much real hope. They were stuck, and they knew it. Trapped by that stupid Skinny Norris.

“Bob!” Pete cried, staring at something behind his fellow investigator. “The door! It opens inwards. The hinges are right there inside.”

“We can push out the hinge pins!”

“Sure, it’ll be easy. Boy, is that Skinny dumb.”

“But we don’t have any tools,” Bob said.

“Oh, yes, we do.” Pete pulled out his heavy scout knife with its many strong blades and quickly went to work. The hinge pins were covered with old paint, and were very stiff. Pete began to sweat as he struggled to loosen them.

Bob stood anxiously beside him, trying to help as much as he could.

Finally, the last hinge pin fell into Pete’s hand. Bob grasped the upper hinge, and Pete grabbed the lower. They counted to three and pulled. The door swung inwards, broke free of the lock, and fell to the floor with a loud crash.

They lunged through the doorway together and headed, for the staircase. From down below came the unexpected sound of heavy footsteps.

Someone — or something — was coming up the stairs.

At the Sandow Estate Jupiter had been working feverishly carrying the junk from the barn to the truck. The First Investigator was alarmed by Mr. Harris’s worry over Bob and Pete. Although he was sure that Bob and Pete could take care of themselves, Mr. Harris might be right about their being in danger. Jupiter wanted to contact Chief Reynolds right away.

When the truck was finally loaded, Jupiter climbed into the cab and chewed on his lower lip as Miss Sandow came from the house to talk to Uncle Titus.

“Mr. Jones,” the birdlike lady said, “I can’t imagine what you’ll do with all that ancient clutter of mine.”

“Don’t you worry, ma’am,” Uncle Titus said gallantly, twirling his enormous moustache. “I’ll sell it all at a handsome profit, I’m sure. Now you just see that you charge me properly.”

“Goodness, I wish Ted were here. I haven’t the slightest notion what to charge. Knowing your boys seems to have made Theodore so happy, I really feel I should give it to you. Especially if they can find my little statuette for me.”

“Find your statuette?” Uncle Titus sounded puzzled. Jupiter held his breath, for Uncle Titus wasn’t always pleased about the boys being investigators. But this time the peppery little man was too happy about his truckload of new junk to be displeased. He nodded. “Well, the boys do seem to have a knack for that sort of thing. Now, let’s consider what I owe you, ma’am.”

Jupiter almost bit a piece out of his lip in impatience, but at last Uncle Titus settled his business, and the truck rolled out of the estate in the direction of Rocky Beach. Konrad drove at his usual headlong pace and soon they reached the salvage yard. Jumping out of the truck, Jupiter rushed to the hidden trailer. Aunt Mathilda and Uncle Titus were far too excited by their purchases to notice his quick escape.

He crawled into headquarters through the main tunnel, and emerged through the trapdoor in the floor. Bob and Pete were not there. Quickly, the First Investigator activated the telephone-recording machine. There were no messages at all. Worried now, and remembering Mr. Harris’s instructions, Jupiter crawled back out and left the junkyard through Red Gate Rover.

He walked the few blocks from the salvage yard to Rocky Beach police and headquarters. He asked at once for Chief Reynolds and, because the boys were well-known to the Rocky Beach police, he was soon sitting across a desk from the Chief himself.

“Well, what can I do for you, Deputy?” Chief Reynolds said with a smile. He was referring to the honorary junior deputy title given to the boys for help on a previous case.

“We’re working on a case, sir,” Jupiter said quickly, “and I think we need to call you in now.”

“All right, suppose you tell me all about it.”

“There isn’t time, sir! Mr. Harris… ”