"Carey, M.V. - The Three Investigators 15 - The Mystery of the Flaming Footprints" - читать интересную книгу автора (Carey M.V)

"Never been there!" snapped Aunt Mathilda, who did not want this intruder running off with the conversation.

Mr Farrier closed his mouth.

"Mrs Dobson, what do you plan to do now?" Aunt Mathilda asked.

Mrs Dobson sighed. "I'm certainly not going to go back to Belleview without finding out what happened," she said bravely. "Luckily, I have a letter from my father telling me that I am welcome here for the summer--if I insist on coming. It isn't the warmest invitation I ever had, but it is an invitation. I showed it to Chief Reynolds this morning. It's on Father's own headed paper, so he knows I'm telling the truth. He has a man on guard at the house, but he says the fingerprint men are through there, and if we want to move in, he won't try to stop us. But I don't think he likes the idea."

"Are you going to do it?" asked Aunt Mathilda.

"I think so. The trip's been expensive, and we can't stay here at the inn for nothing, and Tom's going to start clucking if he eats one more piece of fried chicken at a roadside restaurant. Mrs Jones, why can't the chief send a search party into the hills to find my father?"

Jupiter stirred. "It wouldn't be practical, Mrs Dobson," he said. "Obviously The Potter disappeared because he wanted to disappear, and there are a thousand places in those hills where he could hide out. Even in his bare feet, he could--"

"Bare feet?" said Eloise Dobson.

There was a short, unhappy silence. Then Aunt Mathilda said, "You didn't know?"

"Know what? Did he leave his shoes behind, or what?"

"The Potter never wears shoes," said Aunt Mathilda.

"You're joking!"

"I am sorry," said Aunt Mathilda, and she was. "He does not wear shoes. He goes about in his bare feet and a white robe." Aunt Mathilda stopped, not wishing to add to Mrs Dobson's distress. Then she decided she might as well complete the description. "He has long white hair and rather a full beard."

Young Tom Dobson had returned with drinks for Aunt Mathilda and Jupiter. "Sounds like the prophet Elijah," he decided.

"In other words," said Mrs Dobson, "my father is the town eccentric."

"He's only one of many," Jupiter assured her. "Rocky Beach has its full share of eccentrics."

"I see." There was a paper straw on the table. Mrs Dobson picked it up and began folding it into waxy pleats. "No wonder he never sent pictures of himself. He was probably nervous about my coming. I don't think he liked the idea a lot, but I did want to see him. So I suppose, when the time actually came, he got scared and lit out. Well, he's not going to get away with it. I'm his daughter and I'm here and I'm going to stay, and he darn well better show up."

"You tell 'em, Mum!" applauded young Tom.

"So there's no sense in wasting time," said Eloise Dobson. "Tom, you go and tell Miss Hopper we're checking out this afternoon. And call that police chief. He'll have to notify his guard to let us into the house."

"Are you sure you are doing the wise thing?" asked Jupiter. "I didn't break into The Potter's yesterday, but someone did. I have a bump on the head to prove it."

Eloise Dobson stood up. "I intend to be careful," she told Jupe. "And anyone who comes snooping around had better be careful, too. I don't believe in guns, but I'm handy with a baseball bat, and I brought one with me."

Aunt Mathilda regarded her with open admiration. "How clever. I wouldn't have thought of it."

Jupiter wanted to laugh out loud. His Aunt Mathilda wouldn't need a baseball bat. If they had an intruder at The Jones Salvage Yard, Aunt Mathilda would probably swat him with a second-hand bureau.

Aunt Mathilda now surged to her feet. "If you are going to move into The Potter's house today, you'll need your furniture," she said. "He stopped at our salvage yard yesterday and selected a bedstead for you and one for your son--and a couple of other things. Jupiter and I will attend to it. We'll meet you at the house in half an hour. Will that be time enough?"

"Plenty of time," said Mrs Dobson. "You're very kind. I hate to trouble you."