that the dream of Jupe’s life was to spend two weeks on a Mexican ranch hopping on and off horses. He had some questions he wanted answered first.
He said so.
“Shoot,” Dusty agreed. “Ask me anything you like.”
“How many other people won this grand prize?”
“None. Only you. You were the only winner.”
“I was the only one who got all the answers right?”
Dusty hesitated a second. “Sure,” he said.
Jupe nodded thoughtfully. He knew that was a lie. Pete and Bob had sent in exactly the same answers as he had. Why was Dusty holding back the real reason Jupe had been chosen as the winner? And why couldn’t a girl enter or win? The Investigator tucked those questions away in his mind. They’d be answered later when he had more information.
“Where’s the money coming from?” he asked next. “Who’s paying for everything?”
“I am.”
“What for?”
“Publicity. Publicity for my ranch.” Dustin Rice put his Stetson back on. It seemed to give him more confidence. “I’m planning to turn the place into a summer camp for guys like you. And I’m hoping to get a good write-up about the contest in the Sunday papers.”
That did make some sense to Jupe. Barely.
He was about to go on with his questions, but his attention was distracted for a moment. A blue car, a Chevy, was approaching the house. It slowed as it came nearer and at first Jupe thought it was going to stop. Then it suddenly gained speed again and drove out of sight. The sun had been shining on the windshield and Jupe hadn’t been able to see the driver clearly. He had made out that it was a woman. A woman with blond hair, wearing dark glasses.
He turned back to Dusty.
“If I accept this grand prize,” he said, “is it okay if my two friends here come with me?”
Dusty frowned. “You mean I’d have to pay their expenses too?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean,” Jupe said firmly.
Dusty took off his Stetson and thoughtfully twisted the brim. He began to talk about bus fares, food at the ranch.
Jupe let him talk. He had already made up his mind to turn down the prize unless Pete and Bob were included. This puzzle contest was becoming a promising case for the Three Investigators. And the Three Investigators were a team.
Dusty was still going on about money, adding up how much more everything would cost if Jupe’s friends.
“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to give the prize to somebody else,” Jupe interrupted him.
Dusty shifted his feet, looking down at his hand-tooled boots.
“You win, big guy,” he agreed. “I guess I can swing it.”
Bob reached out and touched Jupe’s arm. “Let’s take ten,” he suggested. He walked off the porch, followed by his two friends.
“You really want to do this, Jupe?” he asked as soon as they were out of hearing.
Jupe did. The thought of not pursuing this case was agony to him. “Absolutely,” he said. “Something really weird is going on if this guy is willing to pay for three vacations. Don’t you want to know why?”
“Well. ” Bob had been working so hard these past few weeks, he felt he could do with a change of scene. Sax would be leaving on a trip to Hawaii as soon as the rock concert was over. There would be nothing to keep Bob in California while his boss was away. He’d just miss a few of his karate lessons.
“Okay,” he said. “Deal me in. Anytime after the concert Thursday night.”
Jupe and Bob both looked at Pete. It was up to him now.
“I don’t know,” Pete said. “I’m kind of afraid that if I leave town, Kelly might forget all about me.”
“She might miss you, too,” Bob pointed out.
“Yeah, maybe.” Pete remembered a line he had once seen on a greeting card: “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” The idea of Kelly with a fonder heart, a Kelly who would never stand him up again, was very appealing.
“Oh, okay,” he said. “I guess I can keep sending her cards and things so she’ll know I’m still alive.”
Dustin Rice couldn’t hide his relief when the Three Investigators returned to the porch and told him they had decided to accept his grand prize.
He gave them a map of northern Mexico, showing them how to get to Lareto, the town nearest to his ranch. After a bit of haggling, he also handed over six hundred dollars in cash for their expenses on the trip. Dusty gave them his phone number so they could call him once they crossed the border. He would pick them up in Lareto. The three guys watched the rancher climb into his Jeep with its Mexican plates. Then they went back to their tasks in the junkyard.
Early the next morning Jupe made his usual trip to the mailbox at the bottom of the drive. Uncle Titus always got what he jokingly called “junk” mail — notices of sales of scrap metal and other junk he might want to buy for his salvage yard.
Jupe sorted through it until he came to a manila envelope. He could feel something hard and rectangular inside it. It was addressed to Mr. Jupiter Jones and had no address and no stamp. It had been delivered by hand.
He took it back to Headquarters and opened it. Inside the envelope was a tape cassette. Nothing else. No writing on the tape label to explain what it was.
Jupe fitted it into his recorder and hit the play button. He heard only a long silence as the tape unwound. Then finally a male voice spoke clearly and urgently.
“Please don’t come to Mexico,” the voice said. “You’ll be in terrible danger if you do. Please, please, don’t come down here. Stay in California and — ”
The voice suddenly cut off.
That was all. Jupe played the tape to the end. He heard nothing else but silence.
He sat back in his swivel chair. The message was disturbing enough in itself. “You’ll be in terrible danger. ” But something else about it puzzled and worried him. He couldn’t help feeling he’d heard that voice before. It was somehow weirdly familiar.
When Pete drove up next to Headquarters a few minutes later, Jupe asked him to listen to the tape. After explaining where he had found it, he played it straight through.
To Jupiter’s surprise, Pete began smiling. “Is this some kind of joke, Jupe?” he asked.
“A joke?”
“Sending yourself scary messages.”
“I didn’t send it. I told you. I found it in the mailbox.”
“Then someone’s doing a great job of imitating your voice.”
“My voice?”
“Sure.” Pete picked up the recorder. “I’d bet my MG that was you talking
