"We don't keep any records," Jupiter said. "It could have been anybody."

"Could ... have ... been ... anybody." Three-Dots' voice was cold again. "I see. Most unfortunate. If you had the name and address I would be glad to reward you for giving it to me. One hundred dollars."

"We don't keep any records," Jupe said again, stupidly. "Sometimes people brings things back. If they bring it back you could have it. You want to leave your name and address?"

"A smart idea." Three-Dots looked hard at Jupiter. "I will do that."

Slinging his cane over his left wrist, he drew a card from his pocket and pencilled an address on it. He handed it to Jupiter.

"There," he said. "Be sure to phone me. If Augustus comes back, I will pay one hundred dollars for him. You will not fail to call me?"

"I'll try not to," Jupiter promised in a dull voice.

"Be sure you do not!" Three-Dots suddenly jabbed his cane down on the ground.

"A bit of paper," he said. "I believe in cleanliness."

He thrust the cane at Jupiter. Gus, Bob and Pete all swallowed gasps of alarm. The cane was a sword cane. On the point of its glittering 12-inch blade was a sc.r.a.p of paper that had been littering the ground.

The needle-sharp point of the sword stopped only inches from Jupiter's chest. Slowly Jupiter reached out and took the paper off it. With another abrupt movement Three-Dots withdrew the sword blade, and once more it was just a cane.

"You will hear from me again," he said sharply. "In the meantime, if Augustus returns, phone me."

He turned, got into his car, and was gone.

Chapter 6.

Strange Deductions JUPE WAITED until the car was out of the gate, then he turned. He was pale.

"There's somebody not to fool around with!" Pete exclaimed. "I thought he was going to stick you, Jupe."

"He was warning me," Jupiter said with a slight gulp. "He was letting me know it'll be too bad for anybody who tries any tricks on him."

"I think that's the same man who called on my father ten years ago," Gus spoke up.

"I can't be sure, but he looks like the same one."

"He has the same three dots on his forehead," Bob said. "And he looks as if he came from the Far East, maybe somewhere in India. The three dots could be t.i.tle mark of some special religious group."

"Why'd you let him know there had been an Augustus of Poland bust in the bunch?"

Pete asked. "That really stirred him up."

"He seemed to know about the busts," Jupiter said, taking a swallow of root beer. "I wanted to see if Augustus meant anything to him. It did, all right. Possibly he stole the copy of the message from Mr. Dwiggins."

"He doesn't wear gla.s.ses and a black moustache," Gus objected.

"He could have hired someone to do it for him," Bob suggested. "Anyway, he certainly had some idea Augustus was important."

"He was fishing for information," Jupiter said. "So was I. I persuaded him to give me his name and address."

He put the card Three-Dots had given him on the desk. It said, in engraved script: Rama Sidri Rhandur PLESHIWAR, INDIA.

Under it he had written in pencil the name and address of a motor hotel in Hollywood.

"India!" Pete exclaimed. "Bob was right! But if Three-Dots is from some fanatical group in India who wants to get The Fiery Eye, I vote we forget the whole thing. I read a book about Indian tribesmen who were out to get back some kind of holy relic. They'd just as soon cut you up as look at you. Why, the look in that fellow's eyes "

"So far we're just guessing," Jupiter said. "Bob, it is now time to do some research."

"Sure," Bob agreed. "What kind?"

"In the library," the First Investigator told him. "See if you can find out anything about The Fiery Eye. Also look up Pleshiwar, India."

"Right," Bob said. "Suppose I report back after dinner. My family sort of expects me to eat dinner at home once in a while."

"That will be time enough," Jupiter told him. "We will start the Ghost-to-Ghost Hookup going then."

"My word!" Gus said as Bob pedalled away. "I had no idea what I was letting you in for! Somebody attacks Mr. Dwiggins Three-Dots comes here and threatens you, Jupiter there is obviously a lot at stake and a great deal of peril. I haven't any right to endanger you. I think I had better just go home and forget about The Fiery Eye. You can stop hunting for Augustus, and if Three-Dots or Black Moustache find him, they can fight it out between them."

"Gus, that's mighty good thinking!" Pete exclaimed. "How about it, Jupe?"

But the expression on Jupe's face gave him the answer. Give Jupiter Jones a good mystery to solve and it was like handing a steak to a hungry bulldog he wasn't going to give it up!

"We've only just started on this investigation, Second," Jupiter said. "We've been wanting a mystery to tackle, so we can't give up a good one when it comes along.

Anyway, there, are certain curious facts I haven't figured out yet."

"There are? Such as what?" Pete asked.

"It is my deduction," the First Investigator said, "that Mr. Dwiggins locked himself in the closet."

"Locked himself in the closet?" Gus's voice was full of astonishment. "Why should he do a thing like that?"

"I don't know. That's part of the mystery."

"What makes you think he locked himself in, First?" Pete asked. "I mean, he was locked inside and he certainly looked as if he had been handled roughly."

"Superficial evidence meant to mislead us," Jupiter said. "Think about it, Second.

Use your ability to reason. Mr. Dwiggins said he'd been in the closet for an hour and a half, didn't he?"

"Well yes."

"During which time he pounded on the door and called for help. Now what would a man do first under such circ.u.mstances?"

"He'd put his gla.s.ses on straight!" Gus cried. "Or else, because it was dark, take them off and put them in his pocket. He wouldn't let them hang by one ear for an hour and a half!"

"I guess you're right, Gus." Pete scratched his head. "Also he'd straighten his tie.

You're right, Jupe, he fixed his tie and gla.s.ses to make us think he'd been attacked."

"Always a.n.a.lyse all the facts," Jupiter said. "I must admit, though, that Mr. Dwiggins was very convincing. I might not have thought of being suspicious except for one fact.

Come over here behind the desk, both of you, and put your hands on the seat of this chair."

He stood up. Pete and Gus both touched the wooden seat of the swivel chair.

"Now touch the desk," Jupiter directed. "And tell me the difference between the two wooden surfaces."

Both touched the desk. Gus exclaimed, "The chair is warm because you were sitting in it. The desk top is cooler."

Jupiter nodded. "And when I picked up Mr. Dwiggins's chair back in his office, I noticed to my surprise that the seat of it was slightly warm, as if someone had been sitting in it up to a minute or so before. Then when I thought about the gla.s.ses and necktie, I realized what must have happened.

"Mr. Dwiggins saw us drive up and get out of the car. He knocked over the chair, hurried into the closet, and disarranged his gla.s.ses and tie. Then he sat down and began to shout for help. He probably hadn't been in the closet more than two or three minutes before we found him."

"Wow!" Pete exclaimed. "Why would he do all that?"

"To deceive us," Jupe answered. "To make us think his copy of the message had been stolen, when it hadn't."

"You mean there was no middle-sized man with gla.s.ses and a black moustache?"

Gus asked.

"I don't think so. I think Mr. Dwiggins made him up. My theory is that Three-Dots, Mr. Rama Rhandur from India, may have paid Mr. Dwiggins for his copy of the secret message, and Mr. Dwiggins thought of this scheme to make us think it had been stolen."

"It certainly sounds logical," Gus admitted. "That would explain how Mr. Rhandur came here, too. He solved the message enough to realize the importance of those busts."

"And he said he'll be back!" Pete exclaimed. "Maybe he'll bring some of his buddies with him next time. Suppose he doesn't believe we really don't know where Augustus of Poland is? They have some pretty fierce tortures to make people talk, over there in the Orient."

"You're letting your imagination run away with you, Second," Jupiter told him.

"This is California, not the Far East. I haven't heard of anybody being tortured here since Indian days."

"There always has to be a first time," Pete muttered darkly.

Gus was about to say something when the phone rang. Jupiter answered. "Jones Salvage Yard, Jupiter Jones speaking."

"This is Mrs. Peterson. I live in Malibu Beach," said a pleasant-sounding woman's voice. "I'm sorry, but I have a complaint. Yesterday I bought two plaster busts from you folks to use as garden ornaments."

"Yes, Mrs. Peterson?" Jupiter spoke with sudden interest.

"Well, they were very dusty and I put them out in the yard under the hose to wash them off. One of them started to crumble. An ear fell off and part of the nose. My husband tells me they're just made of plaster, and should be kept indoors. Outside, the weather would ruin them in no time. I really feel you should return my money, as you sold them to me for garden ornaments."

"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Peterson," Jupiter said politely. "I guess we didn't think about plaster being affected by water. We'll return your money. May I ask which busts you bought?"

"I'm not sure. They're out in the patio now. But I think one of them is Augustus somebody. I'll bring them back to-morrow."

"Excuse me, Mrs. Peterson!" Jupiter said, sitting up straight at the words. "We'll come and pick them up to save you the trouble. If you'll give me the address, we'll be over sometime this afternoon or evening."

He wrote rapidly as Mrs. Peterson gave him her address, then hung up.

"We've located Augustus of Poland!" he said to Pete and Gus. "As soon as Hans comes back with the small truck we'll go and pick him up."

"Great!" Pete said. Then he added, "I hope we get Augustus before Three-Dots gets us!"

Chapter 7.

Black Moustache on the Scene MEANWHILE, Bob had reached the Rocky Beach Public Library, where he had a part-time job. As he walked in, Miss Bennett, the librarian, looked up.

"Why, h.e.l.lo, Bob," she said. "I didn't know this was your day to work."

"It isn't," Bob said. "I came to do some research."

"Oh, and I hoped you were here to help me." Miss Bennett laughed lightly. "It's been such a busy day. There are so many books to put back on the shelves. Could you spare us a little time, Bob?"

"Sure, Miss Bennett," Bob agreed.

Miss Bennett asked him first to mend the binding on some juvenile books. Bob took them into the back storage room and used strong plastic tape to secure the torn covers.

When he had finished, Miss Bennett had a sizeable stack of returned books to be put back on the shelves. He put these away one by one, and then the librarian called his attention to some books that had been left on one of the reading-room tables. Bob gathered them up. As he looked at the one on top, he almost jumped in surprise.

The t.i.tle was Famous Gems and Their Stories. It was the very book he had come to the library to consult.

"Something wrong, Bob?" Miss Bennett asked.

Bob shook his head. "No, Miss Bennett." He brought the book to the main desk to show it to her. "It's just that I came to look up something in this book and I was surprised to find it here."

"Goodness!" Miss Bennett read the t.i.tle. "That is a coincidence. This book hasn't been looked at for years and now it's needed twice in the same day."

Bob didn't think it was a coincidence.

"I don't suppose you remember who was reading this book, do you?" he asked.

"I don't believe I do. So many people in today, they're just a blur in my mind."

Bob's mind raced. Who would be the most likely person? He tried a shot in the dark.