The Mystery of the Headless Horse - Arden William - Страница 8

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Pete and Jupiter looked at Bob in dismay.

“The sergeant figured the sword was smuggled to Don Sebastian by some visitor,” Bob went on. “So I guess Don Sebastian did fall into the ocean with a sword.”

Jupiter stared out a window at the heavy rain, thinking hard. At last he asked, “What did you find, Pete?”

“Not much for around the same time,” Pete answered, dejected. “Just a letter to a commanding officer on 23rd September asking for details of the Mexican attack on the Los Angeles garrison early that morning, and naming some men absent without leave since 16th September and declaring them deserters. Nothing about Don Sebastian or any sword, so — ”

Jupiter sat up straight. “What soldiers, Pete?”

Pete read the document. “Sergeant Brewster, Corporal McPhee, and Private — ”

“Crane!” Bob cried.

Across the room, the assistant historian looked up in annoyance. The boys didn’t even notice.

“Brewster, McPhee, and Crane!” said Jupe with satisfaction. “Missing after 16th September, 1846!”

“Yeah, but — ” Pete’s eyes widened. “Wow! Those are the same three guys who shot Don Sebastian!”

“Who claimed they shot Don Sebastian,” Jupiter pointed out.

“You think they were lying, Jupe?” Bob asked.

“I think,” Jupiter said grimly, “that it’s a very suspicious coincidence that the men who reported shooting Don Sebastian deserted the very next day and never came back.”

“Does that mean they stole his sword?” Pete asked.

“Perhaps. But then who hid that sword cover in the statue, and why? It’s all very strange. We’d better talk to Pico.”

“It’s late, Jupe,” Pete said. “I’ve got to get home for dinner.”

“So do I,” Bob added.

“Then we’ll cycle out to see Pico first thing tomorrow.”

The Investigators made copies of the four documents on the Historical Society’s duplicating machine. Then they thanked the historian for his help, and left. The rain was still falling steadily. They ran all the way to the salvage yard, where Bob and Pete had left their bikes, and got soaked for the second time in twenty-four hours.

A red sports car was parked outside the salvage-yard.

“All wet as usual,” Skinny Norris called from the car.

“Not behind the ears like you,” Pete retorted.

Skinny flushed. “I came to do you all a favour, and tell you to stay away from those Alvaros.”

“Is that a threat?” Jupiter asked.

“Your father won’t get their ranch!” Pete said hotly.

“What’ll you three do to stop him?” Skinny sneered.

“We’re going to find — ” Pete began.

Jupiter kicked him. “We’ll think of something, Skinny.”

“Think fast.” Skinny laughed nastily. “We’ll have that ranch inside a week, so there! And those Alvaros are going to be in big trouble soon, so you better stay away, and just keep your big noses out of my dad’s business!”

Skinny roared off with a squeal of tyres. Standing in the rain, the boys looked after him uneasily. Skinny had sounded awfully confident.

Jupiter got up early on Saturday morning, even though the rain was still coming down steadily. But he soon discovered that the planned visit to the Alvaros would have to be delayed. Both Bob and Pete had some chores to do at home first. Jupiter than made a bad mistake. Because of the rain, he remained in the house. Aunt Mathilda pounced on him and put him to work.

“Can’t have you moping around because of a little rain!” Aunt Mathilda boomed heartily.

Groaning, and filing a mental note never to be caught again in the house on a Saturday even if there was a typhoon outside, Jupiter spent the morning sorting junk in the roofed-over section of the salvage yard. Let off for lunch, the stout leader of The Three Investigators ate quickly and slipped away to the team’s secret headquarters. Headquarters was in an old, damaged house trailer, long forgotten under mounds of junk in one corner of the salvage yard.

Soon after, Bob and Pete arrived at Headquarters, and the three boys hurried back outside to their bikes. Protected by oilskins, they cycled through light rain out along the county road. Jupe carried a road map in case they got lost in the foothills. They rode past the ruins of the Alvaro hacienda and found the small avocado farm of the neighbour Emiliano Paz without trouble.

The Paz house was an old frame building with a big barn and two small cottages behind. Diego was out chopping wood in the rain near one cottage when the boys rode up.

“Is Pico home?”

“He is in the cottage,” Diego said. “You have found —?”

Jupiter led them all into the little cottage. There were only two rooms and a tiny kitchen. Pico had just started a fire in the living-room fireplace. He stood up to greet the Investigators.

Jupiter told Pico and Diego what Professor Moriarty had said about the sword cover.

“It’s almost certainly the cover of the Cortes Sword,” Jupe concluded.

“And Don Sebastian wasn’t shot escaping at all!” Pete cried.

“At least,” Bob corrected his eager friend, “there’s a chance he wasn’t.”

Jupiter showed the two Alvaros the copies of the army’s letter to Jose Alvaro, the original report by Sergeant Brewster about the death of Don Sebastian, and the report of the desertion of Sergeant Brewster, Corporal McPhee, and Private Crane.

“So?” Pico said. “How do these documents change anything? We are told that Don Sebastian was shot — something we have no reason to doubt. And the sergeant’s report implies that Don Sebastian had his sword with him when he fell into the sea. That’s just what the Yankee commander told my family at the time.”

“Don’t you find it suspicious,” Jupiter asked, “that the men who reported the escape and shooting of your great-great-grandfather all deserted from the army the next day? One man deserting could be a coincidence, even two men, but all three?”

“All right,” Pico said. “Then it is as I always thought. The sword wasn’t lost in the sea. The three men stole it before shooting Don Sebastian. Then they filed their report, deserted, and vanished with the sword.”

“That’s possible,” Jupiter agreed. “But what about the cover? Who hid it in the statue? It almost had to be Don Sebastian, and the only reason would have been to hide the sword from the Americans. Except for some reason he separated the sword and scabbard from the cover.”

“The cover might have been hidden by whoever smuggled the sword in to Don Sebastian,” Pico pointed out.

“That’s another fishy part of the story,” Jupe said. “Why smuggle a valuable sword practically into the hands of the enemy? If Don Sebastian needed a weapon, why not take him a gun? He couldn’t very well fight with a jewel-covered ceremonial sword.”

Pico shrugged. “We don’t know for sure there were jewels.”

“Well, here’s what I think might have happened back then,” said Jupiter. “The Americans really arrested Don Sebastian to try to get the Cortes Sword. Yes, Bob, I know what Professor Moriarty said,” Jupe interrupted his account as he saw Bob about to object, “but Fremont’s soldiers could have been greedy, as well as eager to control local leaders. The men in Rocky Beach could easily have heard about Don Sebastian’s fabulous sword. Now, say Don Sebastian had hidden the sword in the statue. When he escaped from arrest, Sergeant Brewster and his two confederates went after him. They decided to try to get the sword for themselves, so they cooked up the shooting story to hide what they were doing. Then they deserted and went looking for Don Sebastian and the sword. Don Sebastian was afraid they’d find the sword where it was, so he got it and re-hid it. He left the cover in the statue — maybe to confuse them.”

“And what happened to Don Sebastian?” Pico said.

“I don’t know,” Jupiter said lamely.

“You don’t know very much, Jupiter,” Pico said, shaking his head, “and all you’ve said is the wildest speculation. Even if you are partly right, and my great-great-grandfather did escape alive, where did he hide the sword, and how will you find it?”

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