“Which brings me to my next observation,” Jupe said. “And that is, I have found Mr. Allen, whom we are supposed to be working for, not altogether reliable in his statements in so far as the truth is concerned.”
“Huh?” Pete scowled questioningly at Jupe.
“He’s trying to tell us old man Allen is lying,” Bob explained.
“Well, why didn’t he say so?” Pete asked, aggrieved. He looked at Jupe. “See if you can tell me in words I can understand what the old boy was lying about.”
Jupe nodded. “He stated that he was standing on the top ridge when he saw the dragon entering the cave below.”
Pete looked puzzled. “So, what’s wrong with that?” Jupiter shook his head. “The cliff there juts out. It’s quite impossible for anybody on the ridge to see the cave, or anything entering it. I noticed it last night.”
Pete scratched his head, puzzled. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right and he’s wrong. Can you prove it?”
Jupiter looked solemn. “I intend to. This evening, when we return to the cave. Perhaps then I shall be able to expose not only Mr. Allen’s fabrication, but also the hoax of the dragon, as well.
“Don’t forget,” he continued, “we have several suspects in this case. Men who might know about the tunnel, and who also have a grudge against people. Mr. Allen and Mr. Shelby both lost their jobs and were prevented from working. Mr. Carter, if he’s the son of the original tunnel builder, would know about the tunnel, too, and have a grudge to settle with a lot of people. How this ties in with a dragon and with the cave we found, I don’t know. But maybe we can discover something in the cave tonight.”
“You mean,” Pete asked, “we’re going back to the cave tonight? Back there? With you-know-what waiting for us?”
Jupiter didn’t reply and continued writing on the pad in front of him. Then he reached for the phone. “First, I have to find out something,” he said. “I have thought of it before.”
“Please put me through to Mr. Alfred Hitchcock,” Jupiter said. “You may tell him Jupiter Jones is calling.”
Pete and Bob looked blankly at each other, then at Jupe. He ignored their questioning glances, as he cradled the telephone with one hand and continued writing notes with the other.
After a moment, he heard the hearty voice of the famous film director. “Alfred Hitchcock here. Am I to take it that you have just solved the enigma of the disappearing dogs at Seaside?”
Jupiter smiled. “Not quite, Mr. Hitchcock. I’m calling in reference to what you said a while ago. You mentioned that your old friend Mr. Allen was an expert on dragons, and used them in his horror films.”
“Indeed he did,” replied the director. “Bats, werewolves, vampires, ghouls, zombies, dragons — anything calculated to scare a human being out of his wits! It’s too bad they were all made long before your time. I can assure you that fans still tremble today and get goose-pimples, merely thinking about them.”
“So I’ve heard,” Jupiter replied. “I imagine that for Mr. Allen to have achieved such effects, these monsters and creatures he used must have looked quite real.”
“Of course they did,” Mr. Hitchcock said crisply. “You don’t frighten people with weak imitations of things that are supposed to be frightening, lad. It has to look and act exactly like the real thing.”
Jupiter nodded. “Who makes them?”
Mr. Hitchcock laughed. “We have very clever studio prop men, naturally. Sometimes a horrendous creature is animated by some ingenious mechanical device inside, motor driven or through gears and a crank. At other times, depending upon the action required of it, we use a different technique. We move the creature a bit at a time and photograph it, and then again and again until we have made it do whatever is required. That is called the ‘stop- motion’ technique, for your information. When all the frames are run off together, the action seems continuous, you see.”
“I understand,” Jupe said. “And what happens to the monsters that were created, after the picture is completed?”
“Sometimes they are put away,” Mr. Hitchcock said, “and saved for another occasion. Sometimes they are sold to an auction house. Other times, they are simply destroyed. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes,” Jupe said. “But I have another. Do you have any of Mr. Allen’s films available that we could see? One particularly to do with dragons.”
“Odd you should ask that,” the director said, after a moment’s pause. “I’ve been looking through our film library for an old classic of his entitled
“It would be most helpful to us, Mr. Hitchcock,” Jupe said quickly, “if we could see this film. I would like very much to see for myself how a real dragon is supposed to look and act. Could you arrange it?”
Mr. Hitchcock didn’t hesitate a moment. “Be at my studio in an hour. I shall be at Projection Room Four.”
The phone went dead. Jupiter put it down on its cradle slowly. He turned to Pete and Bob.
“Remember,” he told them. “We will be looking at what is supposed to be an authentic dragon. Pay close attention to the film when we get there. Perhaps you may notice something that might save our lives later.”
“What could that be?” Bob asked.
Jupiter got up and stretched, “I’ve been going on my theory that the dragon at Seaside is a fake. Perhaps I’m wrong. In that case, our dragon is real!”
Promptly on time, transported by Worthington in the grand old Rolls- Royce, The Three Investigators arrived at the bungalow on the Hollywood studio marked as Projection Room Four. Mr. Hitchcock, seated at the rear with his secretary, nodded hello.
“Lads, take those seats down front,” rumbled Alfred Hitchcock. “I’m just about to signal the projectionist, and we’ll get started.”
He pressed a button on the seat near him, and the room went dark. Light flickered from a small opening in the booth behind the director, followed by a whirring sound.
“Remember,” warned Mr. Hitchcock, “this picture was made a very long time ago. The print we are showing is perhaps the only one available. It is underexposed and will be dark and murky in spots. That cannot be helped.
“That is enough introduction. On with the film!” Soon, the boys forgot where they were, Mr. Hitchcock had not exaggerated. The film was as suspenseful as he had indicated it would be. The story held their attention, and little by little they were led along the path of horror by the skill of the old film director who had made it.
The next scene on the screen dissolved to a cave. The next moment they were in it. And then, as their hearts pounded wildly again, they saw it once more — the dragon!
It filled the screen as it entered the cave, a grotesque creature, huge and frightening. Its short wings lifted, showing long muscles rippling and writhing like live snakes under its wet scaly skin. Then the small, dark head turned on its long, swaying neck to face them.
The long, powerful jaws opened as it roared.
“Wow!” Pete whispered. He shrank back in his seat involuntarily. “That’s real, all right!”
Bob stared at the monster moving closer on the screen, and his hands gripped the arms of his seat tightly.
Jupiter sat quietly, concentrating on every move the screen dragon made.
Spellbound they watched the film until the finish. When the dark projection room was flooded suddenly with light, they were still tense and shaking from the film’s impact.
As they walked to the rear of the room, their legs were rubbery.
“Whiskers!” Bob exclaimed. “I’m beat. It was just like last night, all over again. I forgot it was a
