“Ulp!” Jupiter swallowed hard. He steadied himself with a hand on the hood of Professor Shay’s station wagon, and dropped his flashlight. He bent to get it.
“Hans!” Professor Shay snapped. “Take hold of Rory there!”
When Jupiter straightened up, there was an odd expression on his face. He touched Professor Shay’s car again, puzzled.
“No,” the leader of the Investigators said suddenly. “Not Rory, Hans. I was wrong!”
Hans hesitated in the rainy road, watching Jupiter.
“Stay near McNab, Hans!” Professor Shay ordered. “Jupiter, what are you talking about? You just proved Rory is guilty!”
“He locked us in the shack at the quarry, Jupe!” Pete said.
“He set fire to the shed and knocked down the smokehouse!” Bob exclaimed. “You proved it, First!”
Rory was suddenly pale. “What? Ye accuse me of —!”
“You will not move,” Hans said stolidly, his hand on the Scotsman’s arm.
Jupiter shook his head. “Rory burned the shed, locked up Bob and Pete, and searched the smokehouse. He tried to stop us getting to the treasure. But he’s not Java Jim, and he doesn’t have the treasure.”
“You’re saying it was Stebbins and Java Jim?” Professor Shay asked.
“Java Jim, yes,” Jupiter agreed. “Not Stebbins. He doesn’t want the treasure. I think, in a way, he’s been trying to help. When he broke into Headquarters, he didn’t try to steal the journal and keep us from searching— he just photographed it. Most important, we’ve usually seen Stebbins only after Java Jim was near. He’s been following Java Jim and us! In Santa Barbara I think he only wanted to talk, but we made him afraid of us. I believe Stebbins sent that boy to Hans to help us out of the barge, and at the quarry he was trying to free Bob and Pete.”
“You’re saying Java Jim was alone after all?” Pete asked.
“Yes and no, Second,” Jupiter said quietly.
Cluny wondered, “What do you mean, Jupiter? How can he —?”
“Java Jim is an odd man,” Jupiter went on. “He seems to be a stranger, yet he knows a lot about this area. He showed up at the salvage yard right after Bob had been to the Historical Society. He broke into the Society the day we went to Cabrillo Island, but why? He didn’t go to the Sun-Press first for the old Santa Barbara records, the way we had to — he went directly to old Mr. Widmer. How did he know about Mr. Widmer’s private morgue?”
“Gosh,” Bob said. “That’s right. How did Java know?”
“He knew about Mr. Widmer, Bob, because he’s an expert on the history of our area!” Jupiter said, and now he looked at Professor Shay. “Rory wasn’t the only one who appeared at the ghost town soon after Java Jim had run away — Professor Shay did! The professor is an expert on local history, and he is Java Jim, and he stole the treasure this morning!”
Professor Shay laughed in the rain. “Ridiculous, Jupiter! I’m not offended, my boy, but you’re quite wrong. Why, I’m much too small to be that ruffian.”
“No, sir, you’re just thinner. A heavy pea-jacket fixed that.”
“And just how did I steal the treasure this morning when I was at home in bed?”
“Last evening,” Jupiter explained, “when Pete suggested the hole in the ground, you saw the truth before I did. During the night you came back and found the treasure, probably using a flashlight on the cypress branch just as I did. It was morning before you had dug up the treasure and carried it off. You heard the telephone ring in the lodge. To be sure the call wasn’t dangerous to you, you slipped up and listened.
“You heard Cluny say we had the answer and were coming here. If you just ran, and we found the empty hole, we might suspect you later. But if you pretended that the mythical Java Jim had the treasure, and had escaped, then no one would ever suspect you. The police would go on looking for Java Jim!
“So you sneaked into the lodge, called me to pretend you were at home, and then went out to wait for us. You made those boot tracks yourself, and faked the attack by Java Jim.”
Everyone was watching Professor Shay now.
Far off the siren of a police car was coming along the highway.
“Do you expect to prove all that, boy?” Professor Shay smiled.
“Yes sir. Because you made a big mistake,” Jupiter replied. “You said you were at home at eight o’clock this morning, and drove up here just before we came. It’s been raining hard, though, since long before eight.”
“Raining?” Professor Shay laughed. “I fail to see?”
“The ground is dry under your station wagon,” Jupiter said simply. “And your car engine is cold. You had to have been up here long before eight o’clock.”
With a cry of rage, Professor Shay turned and ran up the road towards the highway. The siren of a police car came down the road. Shay darted off towards the dark trees — and a thin shadow sprang from the wet bushes and leaped on him! There was a tangle of arms and legs, and the police car skidded to a stop. Two policemen jumped out and grabbed Professor Shay and his attacker.
As the boys, Hans, and Rory ran up, Chief Reynolds was looking puzzled. The chief was staring at Shay and — Stebbins!
“What’s going on here, boys?” the chief demanded. “Is that young man fighting with Professor Shay the thief? Is that Stebbins?”
“I’m Stebbins,” the wild-haired young man cried, “but I’m no thief! Shay is!”
“He’s right, Chief,” Jupiter said. “Professor Shay is the thief!” He explained all he had deduced. “I suspect that Stebbins never was a thief. I think he discovered that Professor Shay was after the treasure some time ago, so the professor had him sent to prison on a false charge!”
“It’s true!” Stebbins nodded. “When I got out on parole, I came back here to watch Professor Shay and prove my innocence!”
Chief Reynolds looked severely at Professor Shay. “If you have the treasure, Professor, I suggest you tell us where it is right now. It will go easier for you in the long run.”
Professor Shay shrugged. “Very well. Jupiter has beaten me. The back seat of my car is hollow, it’s all under there.”
Two policemen removed the back seat. They took out a pea-jacket, sailor’s cap, muddy boots, heavy trousers — and a rubber mask of Java Jim’s face with black beard, scars and all!
“He just pulled it over his whole head,” Chief Reynolds said. “With the cap, pea-jacket, and disguised voice — he was Java Jim!”
But no one listened to the chief. They were all staring at the glittering mass under the hollow seat. There were rings, bracelets, necklaces, jewelled daggers and boxes, and hundreds of gold coins. The hoard stolen by East Indian pirates from countless ships and towns!
“Wow!” Pete breathed. “It must be worth millions!”
“Fantastic,” Chief Reynolds said.
“I cannae believe it!” Rory said with wonder.
Professor Shay suddenly wailed, “It’s mine, you hear? I’m not the thief— old Angus was the thief! He stole it from my ancestor! I’m a descendant of the Captain of the Argyll Queen’.”
“That is a matter for the courts,” Chief Reynolds said sternly. “After a hundred years, I doubt if you can prove your claim. Your Captain stole it, too — from the pirates. And they stole it in the first place. I’d say it belongs to Mrs. Gunn now. As for not being a thief, perhaps not, but you could go to prison for breaking into houses and assaulting people!”
“And for framing Stebbins!” Bob suggested.
Chief Reynolds nodded. “Take the professor away, men!”