“It’s a letter that Don Sebastián wrote to his son,” Jupiter explained. “It’s all I could find that seems important. Don Sebastián wrote it when he was being held under arrest in a house in Rocky Beach. His son was an officer in the Mexican Army down in Mexico City.”
“What does it say, Jupe?” Pete asked.
“Well, it’s in old-fashioned Spanish and hard for me to read,” Jupiter admitted unhappily. “All it seems to say is that the American soldiers arrested Don Sebastián, and that he was being held prisoner in a house near the ocean. There’s something about visitors, and about everything else being okay, and that he’d see his son in victory over the invaders. That could be a hint about an escape, but I can’t be sure. The letter is dated 13th September, 1846, and there’s nothing in it about a sword.”
“Gosh, Jupe, remember he was under arrest,” Pete pointed out. “Maybe he used a code or something.”
“Yes, that makes sense,” Jupiter agreed. “We’d better have Pico translate the letter word for word, and then — ”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter, fellows,” Bob said. He held up an army document. “This is a letter the US Army wrote to Don Sebastián’s son, José, when José came home after the war. It says that the US Government regrets the tragic death of Don Sebastián while attempting to escape on 15th September, 1846. It claims the soldiers had no choice because Don Sebastián was armed and tried to resist. He fell into the ocean when he was shot. The shooting was reported by a Sergeant James Brewster, and corroborated by Corporal William McPhee and Private S. Crane. They were the soldiers on duty in the house where Don Sebastián was held.”
“We knew all about that,” Pete declared. “Pico told us.”
Jupiter was puzzled. “That letter doesn’t confirm all of Pico’s story. What about — ”
“The original report of Sergeant Brewster is attached to the letter,” Bob said gloomily. “It gives the same facts as the letter, except that it also says what Don Sebastián was armed with — a sword!”
Pete and Jupiter looked at Bob in dismay.
“The sergeant figured the sword was smuggled to Don Sebastián by some visitor,” Bob went on. “So I guess Don Sebastián 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 Sebastián 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 Sebastián!”
“Who claimed they shot Don Sebastián,” 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 Sebastián 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 Cortés Sword,” Jupe concluded.
“And Don Sebastián 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 José Alvaro, the original report by Sergeant Brewster about the death of Don Sebastián, and the report of the desertion of Sergeant Brewster,
