“Duck!” Pete yelled.
The boys flung themselves to the floor.
The screeching bird plummeted towards them, its huge talons curled menacingly.
Then it slowed to hover a foot above them. Surprisingly, it remained there.
The shrill screeching sound stopped.
Jupiter had flung his hands over his face to protect his eyes. He peeked cautiously between his fingers. Then he sat up, his expression changed from fear to chagrin.
“It’s okay, fellows,” he said. “It’s not a real bird.”
“What?” Pete cried.
He lifted his head unbelievingly. Bob did the same.
The dark bird hung there limply, dangling at the end of a thin copper wire. Its yellow eyes glared at them with a dull expression.
“It’s a toy,” Jupiter said. He reached out and touched the bird. “Seems to be made out of plastic and chicken wire!”
“Oh, boy!” Pete said disgustedly.
From the dark interior of the room came the sound of rasping, breathless laughter. Lights flashed on suddenly overhead.
A tall, thin man wearing dark overalls stood there looking down at them. His hair was short and coppery red.
“Welcome to Mystery Castle,” he said in a deep and sepulchral voice.
Then he doubled over, laughing. His laughter became riddled by a spasm of coughing.
“He’s sure got a keen sense of humour,” Pete muttered.
The tall, red-headed man straightened up slowly. His blue eyes were bright and watery. “Arthur Shelby here. I’d better take my bird back before it bites you.”
The boys scrambled to their feet. The man came closer, stooped and unhooked the wires holding the motionless bird. Jupiter looked up at the ceiling and smiled
“He had it running on those narrow-gauge tracks up there,” he said. “Just like electric toy trains.”
Bob and Pete looked up at the tracks stretching across the ceiling. “I like electric trains better,” Pete said. “They don’t scare me.”
Mr. Shelby was grinning. “Fooled you, did I? Sorry. It’s my hobby — making crazy gadgets,” He waved his hand to the room behind him. The boys saw a large workshop cluttered with tools and scraps of wood and wire.
Mr. Shelby set his bird down on a work table. His voice was normal now, not deep and mournful, merely husky. “What brings you boys here?” he asked.
Jupiter handed Mr. Shelby one of their business cards. “That may explain it, sir,” he said. “We like to solve mysteries.”
The red-haired man studied the card, making no comment about the question marks. Then he returned it, smiling.
“I suppose the mysteries round here are the missing dogs, eh?”
“When we learn all the facts of the matter,” Jupiter said slowly, “it may turn out to be a single mystery. We’re trying to help Mr. Allen find his Irish setter. But I have a feeling his missing dog is linked somehow with the disappearance of the others in Seaside.”
“Could be,” Mr. Shelby said. “I don’t have much to do with my neighbours here but I heard the report on the news. Allen’s been away and I wasn’t even aware he had come back until I heard Red Rover was missing, too. I hope you find him.”
“That’s our job,” Jupiter said. “But we can use some information. I thought talking to some of Mr. Allen’s neighbours would help. We’ve just been across the street to speak to Mr. Carter. Do you know him?”
Shelby laughed. “Who doesn’t round here? I’ve got the red hair but Carter has the temper. I suppose he let you see his shotgun?”
Jupiter shrugged. “He tried to frighten us off. Fortunately, he had the safety catch on when he threatened us. He said dogs round here have been trespassing on his property. He made it clear he hates dogs.”
Shelby grinned. “Carter hates everything and everybody.”
“You scare people off in a different way,” Pete said suddenly. “What’s the idea of all those tricks you’ve got set up round your house?”
The red-haired man glanced at Pete, amused. “I wondered when you’d get round to me. I don’t hate people so much as I hate to be bothered by them. I’ve worked out a few ways to keep the pedlars and daily nuisances away. Scared you, did I?”
“You can say that again,” Pete muttered.
Shelby laughed again. “My background is engineering. I’m an amateur inventor It’s fun for me to rig up these gadgets. But nobody gets hurt.”
He glanced at his watch. “Now, how can I help you boys?”
“About the missing dogs,” Jupiter said, “do you have any ideas that might help us?”
Their host shook his head. “Sorry. All I know is they’ve been reported missing. You’d do better speaking to the owners.”
“The only one we’ve spoken to is Mr. Allen next door,” Jupiter said. “He gave us a clue but it’s kind of hard to believe.”
“Oh?” The red-haired man’s bushy eyebrows flew onward. “What was that?”
Jupiter pursed his lips, frowning. “The trouble is, I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you about it.”
“Why not?” Shelby demanded.
“I think maybe Mr. Allen might be embarrassed if word of it got about,” Jupiter said. “I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby.”
The tall man shrugged. “I guess you’ve got to act like a lawyer in these matters. Protect your client’s confidences. Something like that?”
Jupiter nodded. “And yet, it’s odd. You live next to him. It doesn’t seem likely that he saw something mysterious round here that you didn’t see.”
Mr. Shelby grinned. “You seem to have a pretty good vocabulary. Seems to me you could talk a lot clearer, if you wanted to.”
“You’re not kidding,” Pete said, impatiently. “What Jupe is trying not to say is that Mr. Allen saw a dragon come out of the ocean the other night.”
“You shouldn’t have said that, Pete,” Jupiter said. “We have to keep what our clients tell us in confidence.”
“Sorry,” Pete muttered. “I guess I get too nervous just thinking about it.”
“A dragon?” Mr. Shelby said. “Is that what Allen claims he saw?”
Jupiter hesitated. Then he shrugged. “Well, it’s out now. I guess he was afraid people would think he was losing his mind if he talked about seeing a dragon. But that’s what he claims he saw.”
Mr. Shelby was shaking his head. “Impossible.”
“He said he heard it, too,” Bob said. “That is, when it entered the cave under his house.”
Jupiter blew out his cheeks. “Well, I guess we just don’t keep any secrets at all, Mr. Shelby. But if there really is a dragon, or something dangerous like that down there, you ought to know about it, too. I mean, in case you go down there at times.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Mr. Shelby said. “But I rarely go down to the beach. I’m not much of a swimmer, you see. And as for the caves, I learned long ago not to go into them. They’re dangerous.”
“What makes them dangerous?” Bob asked.
