Part 9 (2/2)

His hands grabbed Bob's torch off his belt. Bob could hear him slapping it. For a long minute nothing happened. Then it came on. Not a real light, just a feeble glow.

”Bad connection,” Pete said. ”About as good as a candle. But it's light. Come on!”

They went down the narrow, winding stairs faster than Bob thought possible with the brace on his leg.

Pete led the way with the feebly glowing torch. At last they got down to where there were no more steps and decided they must be on the ground floor. s.h.i.+ning the light round as well as they could, they were just able to make out that they were in a small, square hall with two doors. As they were trying to decide which door to try.

Pete grabbed Bob's arm.

”Listen!” he said. ”Do you hear what I hear?”

Bob listened. He heard it.

Organ music! Faint, weird organ music. Somebody was playing the ruined pipe organ in the projection room. Suddenly Bob felt the extreme nervousness that Jupiter had mentioned.

”It's coming from that direction,” Pete whispered, pointing to one of the doors.

”So let's go that way.” Bob pointed to the other door.

”No, this way,” Pete said. ”Because this way must lead us to the projection room.

And we know the front entrance is outside the projection room. The other way might get us completely lost. Anything's better than that.”

Pete pulled open the door and resolutely started down a dark hall, holding on to Bob's hand. As they progressed the music got louder, but it still sounded far away, like ghost music, full of screeches and wails.

Bob kept going because Pete wouldn't let him stop, but the closer they got to the music, the more extremely nervous he felt. Then Pete pushed open a door and they found themselves in the projection room itself.

They could tell it was the projection room because the dull glow of the torch gave enough light to show them the backs of the seats. Down at the far end, near the pipe organ, there was a blue glow. It hung in the air some four feet off the ground, more blob-shaped than anything else, and seemed to s.h.i.+mmer. As it s.h.i.+mmered, the ruined pipe organ gave out more ghostly wheezes and screeches.

”The Blue Phantom!” Bob gulped.

That was the moment when his feeling of extreme nervousness that had become acute anxiety turned into sheer terror, just as Jupiter Jones had hoped would happen.

They raced across the room towards the door they knew was there. Pete shoved it open, and they were out in Echo Hall. Both boys headed for the main entrance, where the door was still open, and burst out on to the tiled terrace. Once there they kept going. But Bob's bad leg dragged a little and his foot hit a crack. He stumbled. Pete was running so fast he didn't notice. Bob went over, landing on a pile of leaves in a corner of the terrace, and instantly dug into them like a mouse hunting for cover.

As he waited for the Blue Phantom to come after him, his heart pounded like a compressed-air drill. And he was panting so loudly he couldn't hear anything else.

When he realised that, he held his breath. And in the sudden stillness he could hear the Blue Phantom hunting for him. It was coming closer and closer, with little, slithery steps on the tiles. Its breathing was gaspy and ragged, strangely sinister and scary.

Suddenly the footsteps stopped. The thing was standing directly over him. For a long moment it stood there, still breathing in great gasps. Then it reached down and grabbed Bob's shoulder. When he felt it, Bob let out a yell that practically rattled the rocks down off the nearest hillside.

Chapter 13.

The Sign of the Investigators ”AND WHAT HAPPENED after the Blue Phantom touched your shoulder, Bob?”

Jupiter was speaking. Inside Headquarters, The Three Investigators were holding their first meeting in three days. Pete had been away on a trip with his father and mother, to visit relatives in San Francisco. And Bob had been swamped with work at the library, re-cataloguing all the books. One other helper was off sick, so Bob had been working days and evenings too. Meanwhile Jupiter had been stuck in bed, letting his ankle heal, and reading books. This was the first chance they had had to get together in private.

”Well?” Jupiter asked again. ”What happened?”

”You mean after I yelled?” Bob sounded reluctant to continue the conversation.

”Precisely ... After you yelled.”

”Why don't you ask Pete?” Bob said, ducking the question. ”It happened to him, too.”

”Very well. You You tell me what happened, Pete.” tell me what happened, Pete.”

Pete looked sheepish, but obeyed.

”I fell down,” he said. ”Bob shouted so loudly when I grabbed his shoulder that I was startled and fell on top of him. Then he started to struggle and yell. He kept yelling, 'Let go of me, Phantom. You better go back inside where you belong if you know what's good for you.' My arms were all bruised trying to hold him until I could make him understand it was me, come back to see what had happened to him.”

”Bob has the heart of a lion, despite his small stature,” Jupiter said. ”So you discovered he wasn't with you, and turned back to find him. He heard you breathing hard and thought it was the Phantom when you bent down to touch him. Correct?”

Bob nodded. He had felt rather foolish, there in the leaves, when Pete and he finally got untangled. For a minute he had really thought he was fighting the Blue Phantom.

Jupiter pinched his lip together. He was looking satisfied about something.

”And when you finally stopped fighting each other, you discovered something else,” he said. ”You discovered, did you not, that the feeling of extreme terror had disappeared?”

Pete and Bob looked at each other. How had Jupe figured that out? They were saving it up to surprise him.

”That's right,” Pete said. ”It had gone away.”

”So the sensation does not extend beyond the walls of Terror Castle,” Jupiter said.

”That is a very significant discovery.”

”It is?” Bob asked.

”I'm positive of it,” Jupiter said. ”The photographs should be ready for examination now. Will you bring them from the darkroom, Pete, while I shut the ventilator? Uncle t.i.tus is creating quite a racket outside.”

He was right about his Uncle t.i.tus. Mr. Jones had finally managed to a.s.semble the pipe organ he had bought. While confined to bed, Jupiter had been reading a library book about pipe organs, and he had given his uncle a good deal of advice. Now Mr. Jones was testing the rea.s.sembled organ. He was playing ”Asleep in the Deep”, a favourite piece of Hans and Konrad's, and he was giving full power to all the deep ba.s.s notes, along with lots of quavery accompaniment to go with the main tune.

The boys had the roof ventilator of Headquarters open, so they were getting the full benefit of the playing. When Mr. Jones really dug down into the low notes, things inside Headquarters positively rattled. Bob felt as if the music was trying to lift him right out of his chair. It seemed to make him quiver all over.

By the time Jupiter had closed the ventilator, shutting out some of the din, Pete came back from the little darkroom with the prints of the photos Bob had snapped in Terror Castle. They were damp, but could be studied.

Jupiter examined them under a big reading gla.s.s. Then he pa.s.sed them on to Bob and Pete. He spent the most time on the snapshots of Mr. Terrill's library and the suit of armour that had chased Bob.

”Very well done, Bob,” Jupiter said. ”With one exception. You failed to get a picture of the Blue Phantom seated at the keys of the ruined pipe organ.”

”Did you expect me to walk down and photograph a s.h.i.+mmering blob playing an organ that can't be played?” Bob sounded a little sarcastic.

”n.o.body would have stopped to take a photo,” Pete said. ”There was too much extreme terror in the atmosphere. Even you wouldn't have done it, Jupe.”

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