“It does seem possible, the way you reason it out,” she said, “but you couldn’t ever find the money in this house.” She shook her head again. “You see, this isn’t the house I was living in at the time. I moved four years ago. I didn’t think I ever would, but someone made me such a good offer I couldn’t say no. So I sold and moved here.”
Jupiter rallied from his first disappointment.
“Then it could still be in the other house,” he said.
“Yes, that could be,” Mrs. Miller agreed. “After all, Frank was very clever. Even though the police searched thoroughly, he might have fooled them. I used to live at 532 Danville Street. That’s where you’d have to look now.”
“Thank you,” Jupiter said and got to his feet. “You’ve been a big help, Mrs. Miller. We must follow up this new information immediately.”
They said their good-byes and left hastily. A moment later they were crowding again into the truck, where Konrad waited for them.
“We want to go to 532 Danville Street, Konrad,” Jupiter said. “Do you know where that is?”
The big blond man dug out a worn map of Los Angeles and the towns around it. After some study they found Danville Street. It was a fairly short street but some distance away. Konrad looked doubtful.
“I think we better go home, Jupe,” he said. “Mr. Titus told me not to be away too long.”
“We’ll just drive by the address,” Jupiter said. “We’ll make sure where it is. After all, I don’t suppose we could just barge in and search somebody’s bouse. We’ll have to tell Chief Reynolds of our deduction.”
Pete and Bob knew that Jupiter would have liked to find the money himself and take it in triumph to the authorities. But they all realized that was impossible. Konrad agreed, however, that they could drive by the address on Danville Street on their way back to Rocky Beach, and they started off.
All three boys were in much better spirits now, though Pete still had some doubts.
“After all, Jupe,” he said, “we can’t be positive that Spike Neely hid the money he stole in his sister’s house.”
Jupiter shook his head.
“It’s the only logical place, Pete,” he said. “It’s where I would have hidden the money if I’d been Spike Neely.”
After making a number of turns, they came out on Danville Street.
“This is the nine-hundred block,” Jupiter announced. “Turn left, Konrad, the five-hundred block should be in that direction.”
Konrad turned and all three boys watched the passing houses sharply, reading the street numbers.
“We’re in the eight-hundred block now,” Bob announced. “Three more blocks and we should be there.”
They travelled along past a number of small, neat houses sitting on well-tended grounds. Now all three boys were leaning forward and craning their necks.
“It ought to be right in the next block,” Bob said eagerly. “About the middle of the block, I’d say. On the right-hand side, of course, because that’s where the even-numbered houses are.”
“Stop in the middle of the next block, Konrad,” Jupe directed.
“Okay, Jupe,” the driver agreed.
He drove a minute and stopped.
“This is the place, Jupe?”
Jupiter did not answer. He was staring open-mouthed at a large apartment house that took up most of the block on the right-hand side of the street. There were no small, private residences at all on that side.
“Number 532 is gone!” Bob said hollowly. “There’s just that apartment house, and it’s number 510.”
“It looks as if we lost a house,” Pete said, with a feeble attempt at humour.
“Try the next block, Konrad,” Jupiter said. “Maybe number 532 is there.”
But in the next block the houses were numbered in the four hundreds. There was no 532 Danville Street. Konrad pulled the truck to a stop and looked questioningly at the boys.
“Do you suppose Mrs. Miller wasn’t telling us the truth?” Bob asked. “That she never lived at 532 Danville Street at all? Maybe back where we left she’s tearing the house apart looking for that fifty thousand dollars. Maybe she was just trying to get rid of us.”
“No,” Jupiter said. “I believe Mrs. Miller was telling us the truth. Something has happened to number 532. You two wait here. I shall make a quick investigation to see if I can find out what.”
Jupiter slid out of the truck and disappeared. After some minutes he returned, puffing slightly.
“Well,” he said, “I learned something anyway. I talked to the superintendent of the apartment house. He’s been there ever since it was built. He says it was built nearly four years ago, and that six houses in the block were moved to make room for it.”
“Moved!” Pete exclaimed. “Moved where?”
“To Maple Street. That’s about three blocks away, parallel with this street. The houses were in good condition and not too big so instead of being torn down they were moved over to vacant lots along Maple Street and put on new foundations. Mrs. Miller’s house is still around — it’s just in a new location.”
“Good grief!” Bob said. “A travelling house! How can we find it? It won’t be numbered 532 any more. It’ll have a new street number.”
“Well,” Jupiter said, “we can telephone Mrs. Miller and ask her to describe it to us. Then we can go over to Maple Street and look for it.”
“We can’t do that today,” Bob pointed out. “It’s getting too late.”
“Yup, Jupe, got to get back to the yard,” Konrad put in. “We are late now.”
“Well, we’ll do it tomorrow,” Jupiter said. “All right, Konrad, let’s go home.”
Konrad started the motor and pulled away from the kerb. As he did so, a large black car with three very hard-faced men in it also pulled out from the kerb, a block behind them, and followed. They did not notice it, which was just as well for their peace of mind.
It was almost closing time at The Jones Salvage Yard when they got back, and Titus Jones mildly scolded them for being gone so long. Then he turned to Jupiter.
“Jupiter, my boy,” he said, “while you were gone, a package came for you. Were you expecting something?”
“A package?” Jupiter looked surprised. “No, I wasn’t expecting anything. What is it. Uncle Titus?”
“I don’t know, my boy. It’s all wrapped up, a large box, and as it is addressed to you, naturally I didn’t open it. There it is, beside the office door.”
All three boys rushed to the box. It was an over-sized cardboard carton, securely sealed with many strips of heavy brown adhesive paper. The label on it indicated that it had come by express from Los Angeles but did not give the name of the sender.
“Golly, what do you suppose it is?” Pete asked.
“We’ll have to open it to find out,” Jupiter said, puzzled. “Let’s take it back to the workshop and open it there.”