The Mystery of the Talking Skull

What do you say now, Jupe?”

“It’s too peculiar to be an accident,” Jupe said, still scowling. “It has to mean something.”

“Then what?” Pete demanded.

“I’m thinking,” Jupiter said. “Spike knew this letter would be censored. So I deduce he used the stamps to send his message. He put one stamp under another stamp, so neatly it wouldn’t be noticed. He expected Gulliver to examine the whole letter very carefully and find it. I deduce that the one-cent stamp being green, the colour of U.S. paper money, stands for the missing fifty thousand dollars. What Spike meant —”

He broke off, thinking hard. Bob’s shout broke the silence.

“I’ve got it!” he yelled. “A stamp is a piece of paper, see? Money is paper, too. Spike put a piece of paper underneath another piece of paper. Spike was telling Gulliver that the money was hidden somewhere under some paper.

“Mrs. Miller told us that while Spike was hiding out in her old house, he papered the whole downstairs! That was when he hid the fifty thousand dollars. He put the bills side by side and pasted them underneath the new wallpaper!”

“Wow!” Pete said admiringly. “Bob, you’ve got it. That has to be the answer, doesn’t it, Jupe?”

Jupiter nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Remarkable deduction, Bob. I’m just remembering a story I once read. It’s a mystery story by a man named Robert Barr. In it a character named Lord Chizelrigg hides a lot of gold beating it into gold-leaf and pasting it under some wallpaper. The principle is the same. Only Spike Neely used paper money, which is much easier to handle.”

“But wait a minute!” Bob put in. “Mrs. Miller said Spike Neely went out and finished a job for Mr. Miller. Maybe he hid the money there.”

“I don’t think so.” Jupiter shook his head. “The best place would be — Oh! Oh! Oh!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh! what?” Pete asked. “What’re you oh-ing about, Jupe?”

“Spike tells us! That is, he told Gulliver. Right in the letter. Look at it!” Jupiter handed the letter over to Bob and Pete.

“See what he starts off by saying. ‘I may last five days, or three weeks, or even two months.’ Take those numbers and put them together. They make 532. What does that remind you of?”

“That was the number of Mrs. Miller’s house!”Bob shouted. “532 Danville Street.”

“Right,” Jupiter said. “And look here. He tells Gulliver, ‘If you’re ever in Chicago, look up my cousin Danny Street.’ ”

“Danny could be a nickname for Danville!” Pete exclaimed.

“Right!” Jupe agreed. “That mention of a cousin, and Chicago is just put in to distract attention from the words Danny Street. As near as he dared say it, Spike Neely was telling Gulliver that the money was hidden at 532 Danville Street.”

“Under the wallpaper!” Bob chimed in. “He didn’t dare say too much, but that was very tricky, putting one stamp under another!”

“We’ve solved the riddle,” Pete said, jubilant. Then he looked thoughtful. “Now how do we find the money?”

“If it’s underneath somebody’s wallpaper, we can’t just barge in and say, ‘Excuse us, we have to rip your wallpaper off,’ ” Bob remarked.

“No,” Jupiter agreed. “That’s a job for the police. We’ll have to tell Chief Reynolds. It’s no use trying to tell Lieutenant Carter — he made it plain he doesn’t want us bothering him. Tomorrow, though, or Monday, when the Chief is back —”

The ringing of the telephone interrupted him. Startled, Jupiter picked it up.

“Three Investigators, Jupiter Jones speaking,” he said.

“Good!” answered a man’s authoritative voice. “This is George Grant speaking.”

“George Grant?” Jupiter frowned. The name was unfamiliar to him.

“That’s right. Chief Reynolds told you I’d be getting in touch with you, didn’t he?”

“Why, no,” Jupiter said, puzzled. “He didn’t mention you, Mr. Grant.”

“He must have forgotten,” the man said. “It was he who gave me your telephone number. I’m a special agent for the Bankers’ Protective Association. I’ve been keeping an eye on you since I read in the paper about your buying that trunk of The Great Gulliver’s. And —”

“Yes?” Jupiter asked, a bit uneasily, as the man paused.

“Do you boys know that three of the worst thugs in California are watching you day and night?”

13 Disturbing News

“W — watching us?” Jupiter’s voice quavered slightly. Pete and Bob gulped.

“They certainly are. Watching you and following you. Their names are Three-Finger Munger, Baby-Faced Benson, and Leo the Knife. They were in prison with Spike Neely, and they’re hoping that you’ll lead them to the money he hid before he was caught.”

“We — we haven’t seen anyone watching us, Mr. Grant.”

“Of course not. These men are professionals. They’ve rented a house down from the road from the salvage yard and are watching it through field glasses. If you go anywhere, they follow you.”

“We’d better tell the police,” Jupiter said, alarmed. Bob and Pete, listening to the little loudspeaker, nodded hard.

“I’ve already told Chief Reynolds,” Mr. Grant said. “He offered to chase them away, but said he couldn’t arrest them because watching you isn’t illegal. They haven’t actually done anything — yet.”

“Chief Reynolds was afraid some criminal might think we knew where the missing money is,” Jupiter said, none too happily. “I guess that’s why they’re watching us. To see if we go get it.”

“I hope you don’t try,” Mr. Grant said. “No telling what Three-Fingers and the others might attempt. If you actually have any clue, take my advice and turn it over to the police.”

“But we haven’t,” Jupiter said. “That is, we didn’t have.”

“But you do now?” Mr. Grant asked.

“Well — yes,” Jupiter admitted. “We just found a clue that seems significant.”

“Good work!” the man said heartily. “Take it right down to Chief Reynolds. I’ll meet you there and we’ll all have a confab… Uh — oh, that won’t work: I just remembered that the Chief is out of town today.”

“That’s right,” Jupiter agreed. “We tried to telephone him. Lieutenant Carter is taking his place. The Lieutenant wouldn’t even listen to us.”

“And if you did go to him now, he’d probably take all the credit and keep you from getting the reward,” Mr. Grant said thoughtfully.

“Reward?” Jupiter asked. Bob and Pete looked excitedly at each other.

“The Bankers’ Protective Association has offered a ten per cent reward to anyone who can locate the missing money. That’s five thousand dollars that you’d be entitled to. That is, if your clue is a good one.”

“Five thousand dollars!” Pete whispered to Jupe. “That idea I like! Ask him how we can win it.”

“I have an idea,” Grant continued. “If you lay your information before the Bankers’ Protective Association directly and we pass it on to the police, you’re in line for the reward. It’s on record that you supplied the clue. I could come to see you and — No, that’s not a good idea.

“If those thugs saw me, they’d probably recognize me, and they might make some desperate move. Suppose you come to see me, secretly. I’m in town now.”

“I can’t leave the salvage yard,” Jupiter answered, scowling. “I’m supposed to be in charge here. My aunt and uncle won’t be back for an hour or two.”

“Hmm — I see.” Mr. Grant was silent for a moment. “Do you think you can slip away later this evening, after you close? All three of you meet me somewhere? You’d have to get away without Three-Finger and the others seeing you go.”