14 : The Mysterious Message
JUPITER JONES sat behind the desk in Headquarters.
Opposite him were Pete and Bob. He was scowling in
concentration. His partners, having finished telling him
about their adventures that day, were sitting back, waiting
for him to speak. All three were bushed, Jupiter had put
in a long day tending The Jones Salvage Yard. Bob and
Pete, though they had been home and had supper, still felt
a bit exhausted from the exciting events they had been
through.
Finally Jupiter spoke.
“Our gold-plated Rolls-Royce,” he said, “twice en-
abled someone to pick up your trail. This teaches us a
lesson. In conducting an investigation, it is unwise to
attract notice by our mode of transport, our appearance,
or our conduct.”
“Is that all you’ve got to say?” Pete demanded. “Here
we had all the parrots together at last—we were right on
the edge of getting the whole message John Silver left
telling where he hid the painting—and blooie—it’s all
gone. Now Huganay has the parrots; he has the clues; and
maybe by now he already has the painting, too.”
“The parrots must have been very upset by all that
happened,” Jupiter observed. “I doubt if Mr. Huganay
has persuaded them to talk yet.”
“But he will,” Bob said gloomily. “He didn’t look like
the kind of man who takes no for an answer. Not even
from a parrot.”
“Still,” Jupiter said, “it gives us a little time.”
“For what?” Pete demanded. “We know what four of
the messages Mr. Silver taught the birds are, yes. But we
need all seven. And we’ll never get those parrots back
now. Not from that Huganay.”
“You’re right,” Jupiter said at last. “We might as well
face it. We didn’t get back Mr. Fentriss’s parrot. We
didn’t get back Miss Waggoner’s parrot. We didn’t help
Mr. Claudius get back the painting John Silver hid. We’ve
flopped. Our accomplishments are totally negative.”
“We didn’t even punch Skinny Norris in the eye,” Pete
muttered. “He’s made himself scarce. Gone out of town
for a few weeks to visit relatives, their cook reports.
Frankly, I’d say we’re stuck, all the way round.”
For several minutes they were all silent. At last Jupiter
nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “I cannot think of any way now to find
the missing parrots or learn the three parts of John Sil-
ver’s message that we still do not know. As you say, we’re
stuck. Our investigation has proved a dud.”
Another silence ensued, broken only by Blackbeard’s
noisy eating of sunflower seeds. At last Bob sighed.
“If only we could have made Captain Kidd. Sherlock
Holmes and Robin Hood talk when we had them all to-
gether,” he said. “At least we’d have the whole message.”
“Robin Hood.” Blackbeard cocked an eye down at
them. As usual, he seemed to be listening to everything.
He flapped his wings.
“I’m Robin Hood!” he said clearly. “I shot an arrow
as a test, a hundred paces shot it west.”
Three boyish faces turned to stare up at the bird in his
cage.
“Did you hear what he said?” Pete asked.
“Do you suppose——” Bob gulped.
“Careful!” Jupiter said. “Don’t excite him. Let’s see if
he’ll do it again. Robin Hood!” he said to the mynah bird.
“Hello. Robin Hood.”
“I’m Robin Hood!” Blackbeard said once more. “I shot
an arrow as a test, a hundred paces shot it west.” The
bird flapped his wings again.
Pete Crenshaw swallowed hard. Even Jupiter looked
awed.
“Remember,” he whispered. “Carlos said he used to
ride round on Mr. Silver’s shoulder, while Mr. Silver was
training the parrots?”
“And now I remember!” Bob said excitedly. “When we
first got him he repeated Scarface’s message, ‘I never give
a sucker an even break’—only we didn’t know then it was
Scarface’s. Mynah birds are sometimes better talkers than
parrots and this one seems unusually smart. Do you sup-
pose——”
“We’ll try it,” Jupiter said. He handed Blackbeard a
large sunflower seed.
“Sherlock Holmes,” Jupiter said clearly. “Hello, Sher-
lock Holmes.”
Blackbeard responded to the name with the sentences
he had heard before. He flapped his wings and said in a
strong English accent: “You know my methods, Watson.
Three sevens lead to thirteen.”
“Write that down, Bob!” Jupiter whispered. The in-
junction was unnecessary. Bob was already scribbling as
Jupiter tried again.
“Captain Kidd,” he said. “Hello, Captain Kidd.” And
he handed Blackbeard another seed. The bird ate it and
clicked his beak.
“I’m Captain Kidd,” he said. “Look under the stones
beyond the bones for the box that has no locks.”
“Whiskers!” Pete Crenshaw said in awe. “This thing is
a tape recorder with wings! He knew all seven of the
messages all along!”
“I should have guessed,” Jupiter sounded vexed,
“when he spoke another bird’s message the first time—
Scarface’s message, as Bob reminded us.”
Blackbeard was into the spirit of the thing now. As
soon as he heard the name Scarface he flapped his wings
again.
“I never give a sucker an even break!” he screeched.
“And that’s a lead pipe cinch. Ha-ha-ha!”
He laughed as if at some tremendous joke. But the boys
scarcely noticed. Bob was writing frantically. After a
moment he finished and held out a sheet of paper to
Jupiter.
“There,” he said. “There are all seven parts of the
message.”
Pete crowded beside Jupiter and both boys read the
following:
JOHN SILVER’S MESSAGE (Complete) LITTLE BO-PEEP:
(Part 1)
Little Bo-Peep has lost
her sheep and doesn’t
know where to find it.
Call on Sherlock
Holmes!
BILLY SHAKESPEARE:
(Part 2)
To-to-to be or not to-
to-to be, that is the
question.
BLACKBEARD:
(Part 3)
I’m Blackbeard the Pi-
rate, and I’ve buried
my treasure where
dead men guard it
ever. Yo-ho-ho and a
bottle of rum!
ROBIN HOOD:
(Part 4)
I shot an arrow as a
test, a hundred paces
shot it west
SHERLOCK HOLMES:
(Part 5)
You know my meth-
ods, Watson. Three
sevens lead to thir-
teen.
CAPTAIN KIDD:
(Part 6)
Look under the stones
beyond the bones for
the box that has no
locks.
SCARFACE:
(Part 7)
I never give a sucker
an even break, and
that’s a lead pipe
cinch!
“That’s it, all right,” Pete said. “The whole message.
Now there’s just one thing left, just one teensy-weensy
little thing.”
“What’s that?” Bob asked.
“All we have to do is figure out what the message
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