The Mystery Of The Nervous Lion Part 1

THE MYSTERY OF THE NERVOUS LION.

by Nick West.

A word from Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k

Greetings and salutations! It is a pleasure to have you join me for another adventure with that remarkable trio of lads who call themselves The Three Investigators. This time a nervous lion leads them into a tangled web of mystery and excitement.

I imagine that you have already met The Three Investigators and know that they are Jupiter Jones, Bob Andrews, and Pete Crenshaw, all of Rocky Beach, California, a small community on the sh.o.r.es of the Pacific not far from Hollywood. But just in case this is your first meeting with the three, let me add that they make their Headquarters in a mobile home trailer cleverly hidden from sight in The Jones Salvage Yard. This fabulous junkyard is owned by Jupiter's aunt and uncle, for whom the trio works to earn spending money when they are not busy with their investigations.

Enough of introductions. On with the case! Our lion is growing nervous!

Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k

Chapter 1.

Empty Cages.

JUPITER JONES TURNED his head at the sound of a horn and groaned. "Oh, no!

Here comes my Uncle t.i.tus with a lorryload for the yard. You know what that means - work!"

Pete Crenshaw and Bob Andrews followed Jupiter's despairing look. Coming through the big iron gates of The Jones Salvage Yard was a small lorry. Konrad, one of the two Bavarian yard helpers, was driving. t.i.tus Jones, a small man with an enormous moustache, sat beside him.

As the lorry stopped, Mr. Jones hopped off. Jupiter and his friends could see that the truck was filled with a lot of rusty pipes and other odds and ends. Some of the junk appeared to be broken cages.

Jupiter's Aunt Mathilda, who had been sitting in her wrought-iron garden chair outside the office cabin, leaped to her feet.

"t.i.tus Jones!" she yelled. "Have you gone out of your senses? How do you expect to sell a lorryload of pipes and iron bars?"

"No problem, my dear," t.i.tus Jones said, unruffled. He knew from past experience that almost everything that interested him eventually sold to a buyer. And usually at a tidy profit. "Some of these bars come with cages."

"Cages?" his wife repeated. She came closer, squinting into the lorry. "You'd need some especially large canaries for those cages, t.i.tus Jones."

"These are animal cages, woman," her husband declared. "Or rather, they used to be. I'll leave it to Jupiter and his friends here. Take a look, Jupiter. Could we put them to some use?"

Jupiter looked over the lot. "Well," he answered slowly, "they could be repaired, I suppose. New bars added, roofs put on, the cage floors mended, everything painted.

We could do it, all right, but then what?"

"Then what?" his uncle roared. "Why then we'd have animal cages ready for them when they need them, wouldn't we?"

"When who needs them, Uncle t.i.tus?" asked Jupiter.

"Why, the circus, my boy," his uncle replied. "Circus comes to town every year, don't it? Well, then, next time they come, we'll be ready in case they need some good solid cages for their brutes."

Jupe shrugged. "I guess so," he said doubtfully.

"You guess so!" his uncle roared. "Don't forget I spent my early years travelling with a circus. I guess I ought to know what they'd be looking for, wouldn't you say?"

Jupiter smiled. "Yes, Uncle t.i.tus." He had forgotten how proud his uncle was of his past a.s.sociation with the big top.

"Fine!" t.i.tus said. "Hans! Konrad! Get this stuff off the lorry. Stack the cages separately so that we can get to work on them soon."

Konrad's brother, Hans, appeared from the back of the yard, and the Bavarian helpers began unloading the lorry. Uncle t.i.tus got his pipe out, searched his pockets for a match, and slowly began puffing.

"Those cages," he began. "Got 'em for a song out in the valley. Found them with a lot of old junked cars. Feller didn't see much need for cages and such, so I bought the lot cheap. I'll be heading back in a while to try again. Just might be another load there."

He walked away puffing contentedly on his briar. Jupiter and his friends idly watched him go. Mrs. Jones had a better idea of how the boys should pa.s.s their time.

"Jupiter!" she called. "Those iron bars and railings on the lorry should be stacked together. Perhaps we can sell them at a bargain price for the lot."

"Right, Aunt Mathilda," Jupe said. The stocky boy scrambled awkwardly up into the lorry with Pete and Bob. "Okay, fellows," he said. "You heard the order."

Pete Crenshaw stared down at the pile of rusty rails and bars. "It sure beats me, Jupe, where your uncle ever finds this junk. But what puzzles me even more is how he ever manages to sell it."

Jupiter grinned. "Uncle t.i.tus has always been lucky that way, Pete. He's brought in stuff you'd swear n.o.body in the world would ever want, and sells it the very next day. So if he says he can sell these pipes, I believe it."

Bob put in, "Well, anyway, we get paid for working. And we can use the money.

We need some new equipment for Headquarters."

Headquarters was a damaged mobile home trailer that Mr. Jones had given to Jupiter to use as a meeting place for his friends. It was over at one side of the salvage yard, hidden by junk the boys had piled round it. Close by was Jupe's workshop section, fitted out with various tools and a printing press.

Inside Headquarters, the boys had equipped a tiny office with telephone, desk, tape recorder, and filing cabinets. There was also a small lab and a darkroom for developing pictures. Most of the equipment had been rebuilt by Jupe and his friends from junk that had come into The Jones Salvage Yard.

Bob, Pete, and Jupiter had started a puzzle-solving club originally, which they later turned into a junior detective firm called The Three Investigators. Although they had started the club in fun, they had solved several genuine mysteries that had come their way and had decided to pursue detective work more seriously.

Peter Crenshaw, the strongest member of the trio, now looked unhappily at the large pile of pipes remaining after the two big Bavarian helpers had unloaded the cages. "Okay," he said reluctantly, "might as well get started." He dragged out several long bars and hoisted them to his shoulder. "Where do you want them stacked, Jupe?"

he asked, staggering under the heavy load.

Jupe pointed out an area near a shed. "We'll stack them in a pile there, Pete."

Pete grunted and backed off with his load. Jupe and Bob then took turns feeding the bars to Pete on return trips. Work progressed rapidly and soon the pile in the lorry was down to one.

Rubbing his hands, Pete stepped up. "All right, Jupe," he said, "I'll take that last little one now."

Jupe leaned forward to hand the bar over, and hesitated. He felt the weight of the bar again. "We'd better set this aside. It's just the size I've been looking for."

Bob looked puzzled. "For what? You starting your own junkyard now?"

"It just happens to be shorter than the rest," said Jupe. "We can use it for a slide bolt inside our headquarters door. For security reasons."

"Security?" Bob asked.

Jupe reddened.

"I'm getting tired of crawling through our tunnel into Headquarters. There's got to be an easier way of doing things. I thought we might unlock the door."

Pete and Bob smiled at this roundabout explanation. The truth was that Jupiter was a little too fat to enjoy using their secret tunnel all the time.

Jumping off the lorry, Jupe walked over to Headquarters and the junk surrounding the trailer. "Maybe Uncle t.i.tus won't need it," he said. "Or we can work off the price."

Pete wiped sweat from his brow. "I think we already did that. If you ask me, we did a good day's work in an hour."

"Okay, Jupe," Bob said. "Now what-?"

At that moment the red light mounted over their printing press blinked!

"A phone call!" Pete cried. "Maybe it's somebody wanting a mystery solved."

"I hope so," Jupe said excitedly. "We haven't had any to investigate in a long time."

Quickly they pushed aside the iron grillwork beside the printing press. Crawling through the box behind it, they entered Tunnel Two. This was a large corrugated pipe leading to a trap door in the floor of the hidden trailer. The boys rushed through on their hands and knees and surfaced in the small office of Headquarters.

Jupiter s.n.a.t.c.hed up the ringing telephone. "Jupiter Jones speaking," he said.

"One moment, please." A woman's voice could be heard clearly through the loudspeaker attachment Jupe had rigged up. "Mr. Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k is calling."

The three boys exchanged surprised and happy grins. As a rule, they found an exciting mystery waiting for them whenever Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k called.

"h.e.l.lo there!" the famous director boomed. "Is this young Jupiter?"

"Yes, Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k," Jupe said.

"I hope you and your friends are not too busy just now. I have a friend who is in need of help, and I think you three lads are just the ones to solve his problem."

"We'd like to try, sir," Jupe said. "Can you give us an idea of your friend's problem?"

"Certainly," Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k said. "If you boys can arrange to be at my office tomorrow morning, I shall be happy to tell you all about it."

Chapter 2.

A Case in Lion Territory.

SOME TIME AGO, Jupiter and his friends had won the use of an antique Rolls-Royce, complete with chauffeur, in a contest. Their prize time eventually ran out, but then they helped a youthful client to gain an enormous inheritance. The grateful client arranged for the boys to have the use of the Rolls whenever needed. It had proved invaluable to them as investigators. Distances in southern California are vast, and it is difficult to cover them except by car.

Now Jupiter leaned forward and tapped the shoulder of the tall, English chauffeur, Worthington. "This will be fine, Worthington," he said. "Wait here. We won't be too long with Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k."

"Very good, Master Jones," Worthington replied. He guided the old, box-like automobile to a careful stop. Then he got out and held the door open for the boys. "I trust Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k has an interesting mission for you young gentlemen."

"We hope so, too, Worthington," Bob said. "Things have been kind of dull lately.

We could use some excitement."

He quickly joined Jupe and Pete as they entered the Hollywood studio building where Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k had his office.

Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k motioned them to seats in front of his big desk. He pushed some business correspondence aside and looked at the boys thoughtfully. Then casually he asked, "How comfortable are you lads with wild animals?"

Opposite him, The Three Investigators looked startled.

Jupiter cleared his throat. "It all depends on what kind of animals, sir, and the proximity involved. Given a reasonable distance between them and us and a measure of protection, I would say we are all quite at ease with them, and interested in their behaviour and habits."

"Jupe means we like them," Pete said. "It just goes against his nature to say something simple."

"Why, Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k?" asked Bob. "Is this about a mystery?"

"Perhaps," Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k said slowly. "And if not indeed a mystery, certainly a case that merits investigation. The wild animals I mentioned are part of the background where certain mysterious happenings are taking place."

Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k paused. "Have you lads heard of a place called Jungle Land?"

"That's over in the valley near Chatwick," Bob replied. "It's some kind of wild-animal farm with lions and other animals roaming around. It's supposed to be a tourist attraction, I think."

"Yes," Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k said. "The owner, Jim Hall, is an old friend. Lately he's run into a problem and I thought at once of you boys and your investigative talents."

"What's Mr. Hall's problem exactly, sir?" asked Jupiter.

"It would appear he has a nervous lion," Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k said.

The boys looked at each other wide-eyed.

"To continue," Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k said. "Jungle Land is indeed open to the public. In addition, various movie companies at times rent the use of its premises. Its terrain and vegetation are suggestive of Western and African locales. Occasionally Jim Hall rents his animals. Some of them are wild, but several have been brought up gently and trained by Jim.

"Jim Hall's favourite lion is a remarkable example of his way with animals. This lion has been featured in many commercials for TV and has been used in films. It has always been a great attraction at Jungle Land and a good financial a.s.set to Jim Hall."

"You mean, until now," Jupe said. "Your friend's lion is nervous and now he can't depend on it. That's his problem, isn't it?"

Alfred Hitchc.o.c.k gave Jupiter a penetrating stare. "As usual, my astute young friend, your powers of deduction are equal to the task at hand. A film unit has rented the farm now to shoot sequences for a jungle film. Naturally Jim Hall cannot afford any accidents that might interfere with the film's speedy and successful completion. If anything were to go wrong, it would be ruinous to his entire operation."

"And we're supposed to go there and solve the mystery of the nervous lion," Jupe said. "Is that it?"