The Mystery of the Coughing Dragon, стр. 7

Jupiter nodded. “How do you feel, Bob?”

“Like Pete,” Bob answered. “Besides, you heard Mr. Shelby telling us how dangerous it is. I don’t know about the dragon, but I don’t think I’d be any happier under a landslide.”

Jupiter was walking to the cliff edge. He put his hand on the old weatherbeaten stair handrail that ran steeply down to the beach.

“I suggest we take a look,” he said. “Then, when we get home, we’ll have a better idea of what we’re up against.”

With that, he took a step down and quickly disappeared from view.

Pete looked at Bob. “How come he always outvotes us, one to two?”

Bob shrugged. “He’s just more stubborn than we are. You and I are probably nicer people.”

“Yeah,” Pete muttered. “A lot of good it does us. Come on. We’d better go down after him before Mr. Shelby sends a flying object after us. Or that Mr. Carter across the street decides he needs some target practice.”

With that, Pete reached for the handrail and started down. Bob followed. The steps were narrow and old, set close together, and the descent to the beach was steep. As they ran down, Pete and Bob grabbed the rails at first. Then, as they gained momentum and confidence, they merely reached out and slapped at them.

Jupiter couldn’t help but hear the clatter behind him. He glanced back once, saw what was happening, and grinned. It was a race to the bottom now.

Not as agile as the others, Jupe could still make an effort when he wanted to. He increased his pace as he bounced from step to step.

He was perhaps fifteen feet from the bottom when it happened.

Suddenly, without warning, a step collapsed under his weight. His momentum carried him downwards. The next step cracked and broke away, too. He attempted to brake by grabbing the handrail.

It tore loose and came off in his hand. Then he was yelling and falling in space.

Immediately behind, Bob and Pete heard his warning cry too late. The entire staircase below was collapsing like a deck of cards on end. The railing above the section that Jupiter had clung to was their only chance. They threw themselves at it frantically.

It tore loose, too.

Helplessly, they plunged headlong downwards. Loose boards hurled after them.

Jupiter’s mind worked quickly as he fell. In the split second before he landed, he had two nagging thoughts. Was this accident a real one?

Or was it to keep The Three Investigators from investigating the mystery of the dragon on the beach? That was all he had time for.

He landed with stunning force. Bodies and boards crashed about his head.

Everything went black!

6

Trapped!

“Jupe, are you all right?”

Jupiter blinked and opened his eyes. He saw the blurred faces of Pete and Bob looking down at him.

He grunted and sat up. There was a lot of sand on his face, and he brushed it off carefully before replying.

“Of course I’m all right,” he said finally. “Not that the effect of both of you landing on me at once did me any good. In addition to knocking the breath out of me, you practically buried my face in the sand!’

Pete grinned. “He’s okay. He can still talk!’

“I hear him,” Bob said. “As usual, he’s making it seem our fault. As I recall, his weight broke the steps and railing first. What were we supposed to do — fly over him?”

Jupiter got to his feet slowly. He kicked at the litter of broken boards all round them. Then he picked up a splintered piece and studied it. He stooped and picked up another, comparing it with the first. He nodded as if satisfied.

“Your statement is correct, Bob,” Jupiter said. “My weight did break the steps first. But I’m inclined to believe that I had help. These steps appear to have been tampered with. Enough to make them give way at the slightest pressure.”

He extended the boards to his two partners.

“If you notice, the top part is splintered sharply. See how jagged it is? The bottom part is broken more evenly. Almost as if it had been partly sawn through before we came down the steps.”

Bob and Pete looked at the boards closely.

“Maybe you’re right,” Bob admitted. “But who knew we were coming down them?”

“Sure.” Pete said. “It was your own idea, Jupe. If we never went down the steps, the accident could have happened to anybody in the neighbourhood. We’ve only met Mr. Carter, Mr. Allen and Mr. Shelby, so far. There must be a lot of others who use this staircase.”

He pointed up the beach. “It’s a long walk to the other one. And a longer walk to the next one. Anybody could have come down here.”

Jupiter sighed and threw the boards down. “We don’t have the equipment to examine these boards anyway, to find out if they were actually sawed or not. Maybe I’m wrong in my deduction.”

Pete and Bob stared at each other. It was a rare day when Jupiter ever admitted to a wrong guess about anything.

Jupiter set his lips firmly. “However,” he said, “we can’t let ourselves be sidetracked by the accident on the steps. Our main purpose in coming down was to examine the beach here and the cave for evidence of the dragon. Let’s get on with it.”

Without a backward glance, Jupe started walking towards the sea. “We’ll look for tracks leading from the water inland towards the cave first. What Mr. Allen claimed he saw took that direction.”

Bob and Pete joined him, and the three advanced slowly over the sand. The wide expanse of beach appeared deserted. Overhead a few seagulls, screaming raucously, swooped about in erratic flight.

Pete pointed to one of the gulls who had just landed. “Maybe we ought to ask one of them if he saw a dragon recently. That would save us a lot of trouble.”

“Good idea,” Bob said. “And if they won’t talk, there’s that tug with the salvage rig about a mile out.”

He pointed offshore to a clumsy-looking craft trailing its rig. “They don’t look like they’re going anywhere in a hurry. Maybe they’re on a dragon hunt, too.”

Jupiter looked out and shook his head. “We don’t have to worry about what’s out that far. All we have to do is cover the shoreline round here.”

He ran his eye from the cave in the distance towards the water. “We should see tracks somewhere in this area. I suggest we spread out a little.”

They separated and walked slowly along the beach, scrutinizing the sand closely.

“All I see is a lot of seaweed piled up,” Bob said.

“Me, too,” Pete said. “Plus some seashells and a lot of driftwood.”

Bob shook his head finally. “No sign of any kind of tracks, Jupe. Could the tide have washed them away?”

Jupe tugged at his lip. “Possibly here, close to the water. But there’s plenty of dry sand for tracks all the way up to the cave. Let’s go up and look.”

“Do we have to?” asked Pete. “What if the dragon is in the cave? What are we opposed to do — fight it off with our bare hands?”

“I don’t expect us to have to fight anything, Pete,” Jupe said. “We’ll approach the cave entrance carefully. And we won’t go inside unless we’re certain it’s safe enough.”

Pete scowled. Then he stooped and picked up a long piece of driftwood. “Well, I don’t know how much good this will do me. But I’ll feel a lot safer with some kind of club in my hands.”

Bob picked up another piece of wood, part of an oar with the blade broken off. ”You have the right idea, Pete,” he said. “I remember seeing pictures of St George and the dragon. He didn’t use old drift wood, either. He was smart. He had a nice long sword.”

He brandished his long oar, then glanced at Jupiter. “Don’t you want some kind of weapon, too, Jupe? We can go back for those broken railings, if you like. They’ve still got some of the nails set in them. Nice long ones.”

Jupiter smiled and shrugged. “I suppose it won’t hurt to carry something.”