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A horn sounded in the salvage yard.
“That’s Worthington,” Jupiter said. “I told him to park as close as possible to this spot. Come on, each of us can carry a dummy.”
Carrying the grotesque dummies, they filed through the piles of junk until the dark bulk of the Rolls-Royce blocked their way. Worthington had the door open, with the inside lights turned off.
“Here I am, Master Jupiter,” he said. “Awaiting orders.”
“These are your passengers, Worthington,” Jupiter said. “They are our stand-ins.”
“Very good,” the chauffeur answered. “Let me help them into the car.”
Between them they got all four dummies into the car, leaning back against the seat. With the door shut and all lights off, all that could be seen were four shadows with bobbing heads. From a distance you could have imagined they were excited boys in the back seat.
“All right, Worthington,” Jupiter said. “Now go up the coast road fairly rapidly, then turn into the hills and drive round for about two hours before you come back here and unload the dummies. Then I guess we won’t be seeing you again. Our use of the car is up.”
“So I understand,” the tall English chauffeur said. “I’m sorry to hear it. I’ve enjoyed our association immensely. Very well, now I’m off.”
“Drive out without your headlights. Don’t put them on for a block,” Jupiter instructed.
The boys watched him drive away, the car dark, just exactly as if trying to avoid attention.
“Well,” Bob said, “if anyone’s watching, I guess they’ll think that’s us. At first, anyway.”
“I’m trusting any watchers will follow the car to see where we go,” Jupiter replied. “Now it is our turn. We will all go out through Red Gate Rover and meet Hans and the truck. Pete, you carry my detector.”
Pete picked up the long-handled object Jupiter had been fixing, and they all crept through the salvage yard to Red Gate Rover, some special swinging boards at the rear of the salvage yard. They slipped out into a dark alley like street and trudged several blocks until they found Hans and the truck waiting for them in the deep shadows. They climbed in and started off. So far as they could see, no one followed them.
The trip to Dial Canyon was without incident. When they pulled up near the half-wrecked house of Gus’s great-uncle, there wasn’t a sound or a movement to be detected. Several big trucks were parked on the lawn and the bulldozer stood nearby, awaiting the next day’s work. But fortunately there was no night watchman.
“After we get out, Hans,” Jupiter told the driver, “turn the truck round and block the road. Keep watch. If you see anyone coming, honk the horn as a warning.”
“Okay, Jupe,” Hans agreed.
“So far, so good,” Jupiter said, lowering his voice. “Now to see if my detector can ask the eagle for the right spot.”
“I wish you’d explain what you’re talking about,” Pete said as they climbed out with the two spades and Jupiter’s gadget.
“This is a metal detector,” Jupiter said, taking the instrument and leading the way across the lawn. “It will detect any buried metal several feet down.”
“But The Fiery Eye isn’t metal!” Bob objected.
“No, but when I stooped to tie my shoe this afternoon, after I took a picture of the house,” Jupiter told him, “I shoved a silver half dollar into the ground to mark the spot. The half dollar has an eagle on the back. That’s the eagle I’m going to ask.”
“But it wasn’t two-thirty, Jupiter,” Gus put in as they walked over the lawn in the darkness. “Only two-fifteen.”
“I made allowance for the probable movement of the shadow in the next fifteen minutes,” Jupiter told him. “We shouldn’t be too far off the right spot now.”
He stopped and put the flat bottom of the instrument he carried on the ground. He put on the head phones, then snapped a switch and began to move the metal detector back and forth over the lawn.
“As soon as it finds any metal, it’ll buzz,” Jupiter said. “It’s pretty dark but this seems about where I stood, judging by the house.”
He moved the metal detector back and forth, over a wider and wider area. After he got tired, Pete took over. Still it refused to buzz.
“We’ve lost the eagle,” Pete said wearily. “This is just too big a lawn. We could spend all night looking.”
“It has to be somewhere nearby,” Jupe said. “I pushed it into the ground edgewise so it couldn’t be spotted. Just give a swing over this way, Second.”
Pete did as requested. Then he jumped. The machine had buzzed for a moment!
“Back! You passed over it,” Jupe whispered.
Pete moved the instrument back an inch at a time. Presently it started to buzz loudly in his ears, and he let it rest on the grass.
“We’ve found it!” he cried.
Jupiter got down on his hands and knees and unclipped his flashlight from his belt. Holding the beam low to the ground, he poked around until he found his half dollar.
“Now,” he said, “we have to dig. I might not be in exactly the right spot, so we’ll make it a big hole.”
Pete grabbed a shovel from Bob and started to dig. Slowly the hole grew deeper and larger. Except for the noise of the shovel, it was very silent in the canyon. Not even a cricket chirped.
They waited for the shovel to crunch on metal or wood — on a box of some kind — but it didn’t. Presently Pete wiped his forehead with a dirty hand.
“I’m whipped,” he said. “Jupe, I don’t think this is the right spot.”
Jupe said nothing. He was thinking intently. He looked at the dark shadow of the house, barely visible, then at the dark shadow of the peak, just visible against the starlit sky. Then he moved a foot towards the house.
“Try on this side of the hole,” he said.
“Well, all right,” Pete agreed. He jabbed the shovel in, and took out some dirt. Then some more. Then the shovel scraped on a stone. Or was it a stone?
“We’ve found something!” Pete whispered.
“Let me see,” Jupe said tensely. He shone his flashlight on the spot. The corner of a small box, seemingly made out of stone, protruded from the ground. Jupiter knelt down and began digging round it with his fingers. Finally he got a grip on it. He wrenched and tugged, getting dirt all over himself. Slowly it came loose.
“We’ve got something,” he whispered. “A box made of soapstone. Bob, shine my light on this while I see if it will open.”
Jupiter began to fumble with the gold lock which closed the box. He shoved it first one way, then another. There was a little snap, and it flew open. Jupiter hesitated a moment, then slowly lifted the lid.
A blazing red stone shone like fire from its bed of cotton.
“We’ve found it!” Pete cried. “You did it, Jupe! You did it!”
“Well done, well done!” Gus exclaimed.
Jupiter started to answer. Then he stopped. All four of the boys stood as if turned to stone.
The night had seemingly exploded with brilliant light. The boys were in the centre of four powerful flashlight beams. Almost blinded, they could barely see dark figures moving stealthily towards them from all sides.
“All right, kids!” growled a familiar voice. “Now you’ve finally got it, hand it over.”
The boys blinked. Dimly behind the flashlights they could see four moustached figures closing in on them. One of them held a gun that looked large and menacing.
“The Black Moustache gang!” Bob managed to whisper. “They were here waiting for us! Hiding behind the trucks.”
“We learned about your trip here this afternoon,” the one named Joe said, “and how you got run off. We were pretty sure you’d be back.”
“Never mind the talk. I want that stone, boy,” the one called Hugo growled. “Hand it over now and no fu
Jupiter seemed more frightened than Bob had ever seen him before. His hand trembled. The stone box and the gem fell from his fingers into the hole.