Therefore take care, though time is of the essence. This and all my love I leave you.

Horatio August.

“It still means nothing to me,” Pete announced, frowning.

“I confess I don’t understand it any better than before,” Gus agreed. “In August is my fortune, it says. But if that doesn’t mean in one of the busts of Augustus, what does it mean? Of course this is August, and tomorrow is my birthday. I was born at half past two on August 6th, my father told me. But how can my fortune be in the month of August?”

Jupiter pinched his lip. For once his mental machinery refused to respond. He sighed.

“I guess we’ll have to sleep on it,” he said. “But let me look at those pieces of Octavian again.”

Pete handed him the two pieces of the bust, and Jupiter examined intently the hole in the centre of the head where the little wooden box had been.

“Yes,” he said. “Apparently Mr. August dug a hole into the bust and filled it with fresh plaster later. My theory is that he dug the hole to get The Fiery Eye out of the bust and put it somewhere safer. He must have felt the bust wasn’t a safe enough hiding place.”

The other boys were silent. They had nothing to add to what Jupiter had said.

“Well,” the First Investigator said finally, “I guess there’s nothing we can do now except eat. I’ve just realized I’m starved. Perhaps tomorrow will bring some new ideas.”

Bob left them and cycled home. He sat down at the dining-room table to jot down notes about the day’s happenings before he forgot them. He was writing of Jupiter, Gus and Pete’s trip to Mr. August’s old house when it occurred to him that the name Dial Canyon was rather unusual. Of course, a name could be anything, but still —

“Dad, did you ever hear of a place called Dial Canyon, north of Hollywood?” he asked. “It seems like an odd name.”

His father lowered the book he was reading.

“Dial Canyon?” he repeated. “Hmmm, I seem to remember it, but I’m not sure. Let me look it up.”

He went to the bookshelf for a large volume with maps of the whole area.

“Dial Canyon — Dial Canyon,” he repeated, turning the pages. “Let’s see — yes, here it is. ‘An isolated little canyon, hard to reach, north of Hollywood. Formerly known as Sundial Canyon because from a certain angle one of the peaks round it looks like the gnomon of a sundial.’ A gnomon, Bob, is the upright part of the sundial that casts the shadow on the sundial itself. So that’s how your Dial Canyon got its name. Formerly Sundial Canyon, and shortened to plain Dial Canyon by everyday usage.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Bob said.

He made a few more notes, then he began to wonder if he ought to tell Jupiter what he had just learned. It didn’t seem important, but you never knew what Jupe would find important. He decided to telephone the Jones home. When Jupiter answered, Bob told him what he had learned. For a moment there was silence at the other end. Then he heard Jupe gulp slightly.

“Bob,” the First Investigator said with suppressed excitement, “That’s it. That’s the clue!”

“What’s the clue?” Bob asked, trying to figure out what Jupe was getting at.

“The clue I needed. Listen, you have to work in the library tomorrow morning, don’t you? Well, be here right after lunch. One o’clock, say. I’ll have everything ready.”

“Ready for what?” Bob asked, but Jupiter had hung up. Bob went back to his notes, frowning. If what he had said was a clue, it didn’t mean anything to him.

He went to bed still puzzled, and all next morning at the library he went about his work absent-mindedly, still trying to figure out what was in Jupe’s mind.

He didn’t find out, however, until he reached The Jones Salvage Yard after lunch. There he found Jupe, Gus and Pete waiting for him. The smaller truck was ready to go and both Hans and Konrad were in the front seat. In the back were a couple of spades and some old canvas that made a seat for the boys. Jupiter had his camera.

“But where are we going?” Bob asked as the old truck bounced and jounced away from the salvage yard.

“That’s what I want to know, too,” Pete echoed. “You’re being awfully mysterious, Jupe. I think you ought to let us in on your plans. After all, we’re your partners.”

“We’re going to test the message Mr. Horatio August left for Gus,” Jupiter announced, looking rather pleased with himself. “Hans and Konrad are going with us as a security measure. I don’t think anyone will dare attack us with them to contend with.”

“All right, all right,” Pete groaned. “Never mind all the words. Tell us what’s up.”

“Well, Bob gave me the clue when he told me Gus’s great-uncle lived in Dial Canyon, which was formerly Sundial Canyon,” Jupiter explained. “I should have figured it out for myself. After all, I sat there tied to a chair in the kitchen and saw the shadow of the peak move across the lawn just like the shadow of a sundial.

“You see, Gus, your great-uncle thought that you’d catch on, knowing how interested he was in different ways of telling time. He had an idea you or your father would put that together with the name of the canyon and the message and understand what he meant, while someone who didn’t know about his hobby wouldn’t.”

“I still don’t understand,” Gus declared.

“Wait a minute!” Bob cried excitedly. “Sundial Canyon — the shadow of the natural sundial on the lawn marks the place where the ruby is buried, and Gus has to delve for it. Is that the answer?”

“Correct, Records,” Jupiter said.

“But it’s a big lawn,” Pete interjected. “How do we know the right spot?”

“The message tells us,” Jupe answered. “Let’s go over it again. May I have it, Gus? Thanks.”

He spread out the message and read parts of it as the truck bounced along.

“...‘August is your name and August is your fame and In August is your fortune’ — that’s to get Gus’s attention to the word August, while just seeming mysterious to an outsider. Then, ‘Let not the mountain of difficulty in your way stop you; the shadow of your birth marks both a beginning and an ending’...”

“That’s a sentence that seems to say one thing, and says another. Gus’s great-uncle figured he would know that the mountain he meant is the peak above Dial Canyon, and that the shadow of his birth meant the shadow of the mountain at the time of his birth — that is, on August sixth at half past two in the afternoon. Correct, Gus?”

“That’s right. I’m beginning to see it now, Jupiter. August — mountain — shadow — time of my birth — it all rather hits you in the eye as soon as you know you’re talking about a giant sundial.”

“The rest of the message is pretty plain,” Jupiter stated. “...‘Delve deeply’ is clear enough. Most of the rest is just talk to help confuse an outsider. The phrase ‘time is of the essence’, though, means two things. One is to hurry and find the ruby. The other goes back to the sundial idea; the right time is very important.”

“Two-thirty today. That gives us hardly an hour!” Pete exclaimed.

“We’ll make it. It’s only a few more miles.”

Pete stared hard behind them. They were alone on the road, with no other cars in sight. “I guess we aren’t being followed,” Pete said.

“I’m sure that we are on the right track now,” Jupiter said. “With Hans and Konrad to back us up, I see no more obstacles.”

They rattled onwards, then turned on to the narrow road into Dial Canyon. Here the cliffs came close to the road, but presently it widened into the flat space where the house was built. Hans pulled to a stop. He called back to Jupiter.

“What we do now, Jupe? Somebody here ahead of us.”

The boys stood up and stared ahead in dismay. The flat area held several large trucks, a bulldozer, and a giant diesel-operated shovel.

Just now the huge steel jaws of the shovel were chewing away at the house of Horatio August. Most of the roof and one side was gone already, for the shovel simply took large bites out of the structure and dropped the debris into a waiting truck. The bulldozer was smoothing the ground behind the house, ripping up trees and the remnants of a garden with the greatest of ease.