“Where would we find the old paper’s morgue, sir?” Jupiter asked.

“Well, we took over all its assets and files,” Mr. Pidgeon said, “but, unfortunately, all records before 1900 were lost in an earthquake and fire.”

Jupiter groaned. “All the records, Mr. Pidgeon?”

“I’m afraid so,” the editor said. He thought for a moment. “However, there might be a way. I know an old writer who worked on that paper over sixty years ago. I’m not sure, but I think he kept a private morgue on the old paper. Sort of a hobby.”

“Is he in Santa Barbara now, sir?” Jupiter exclaimed.

“He certainly is,” and Mr. Pidgeon opened a small, revolving address file on his desk. “His name’s Jesse Widmer, and he lives at 1600 Anacapa Street. I’m sure he’d be glad to see you boys.”

In the truck again, they drove up to the 1600 block of Anacapa Street. Number 1600 was a small adobe house set at the end of a long walk, behind a larger house. Jupiter and Cluny hastened up the walk while Hans remained in the truck. Jupiter stopped suddenly on the path.

A door had slammed somewhere, and feet ran away behind the small adobe.

“Look, Jupe!” Cluny pointed.

The front door of the small house stood ajar. As they stood listening, a weak cry came from the adobe.

“Help!” And then louder, “Help me!”

“Someone’s in trouble in there!” cried Jupe and dashed forward with Cluny. Hans leaped out of the truck and sprinted after them.

The adobe’s front door opened on to a small, neat living-room lined with books and framed front pages of old newspapers.

“Please! Help!”

The cry came from an inner room on the left. The boys followed it into a study, crammed with stacks of ancient newspapers and magazines. A typewriter stood on a desk with typed pages in a box beside it, as if someone were writing a book.

An old man lay on the floor. His glazed eyes rolled up at the boys. Blood trickled from his mouth, and his face was cut.

“Mein Gott” swore Hans when he saw the old man. He lifted the writer up gently and helped him into an easy-chair. Cluny got a glass of water. The old man drank thirstily.

“A bearded man,” the old man said. “With a scarred face, wearing a pea-jacket. Who… who are you?”

“Java Jim!” Cluny exclaimed.

Jupiter told the old man who they were. “Mr. Pidgeon at the Sun-Press sent us to you, sir. If you’re Jesse Widmer.”

“I am.” The old man nodded. “Java Jim? That’s the man who attacked me?”

“Yes, sir,” Jupiter said. “What did he want, Mr. Widmer?”

Mr. Widmer took deep breaths as Hans gently tended his cuts, smiling to show that his injuries weren’t serious.

“He didn’t come recommended by anybody at the Sun-press. Just barged in here. Wanted to know about a fire in some store in 1872, around November,” the old man said. “The Argyll Queen treasure — you say that bearded man wants it? There is a treasure?”

“You’re interested in the Argyll Queen treasure?” Cluny said.

Jesse Widmer nodded. “Have been for a long time. Studied it for years, got a lot of clippings in my private morgue.”

“What did you tell Java Jim, sir?” Jupiter asked.

“Nothing. Didn’t like him. So he hit me and searched my files. Found what he wanted, I guess, and ran out,” the old man said. “Took a clipping with him.”

Jupiter groaned. “He took a clipping, sir? What did it say? It’s important, sir.”

Jesse Widmer shook his injured head. “Don’t know, but I can find out if you want.”

“You can, sir?” Cluny cried. “Would you try?”

“Do more than try,” Jesse Widmer said. “Got all my files on microfilm. Hand me that box on my desk.”

Cluny handed the long, narrow box to Mr. Widmer. The old man went through it and drew out a box of microfilm. “Here’s 1872. Put it on that reading machine over there.” Jupiter sat down at the viewer and started reading the filmed clippings, beginning with September 1872. He turned the spool slowly.

“Here’s something!” the First Investigator cried. “November 15! Wright and Sons, Ship Chandlers, suffered a serious fire which gutted their storehouse. That must be it!”

“What’s a ship chandler?” asked Cluny.

“A retail dealer who sells supplies and equipment for ships,” answered Jupe.

“Wright and Sons?” Mr. Widmer said. “They’re still in business. Down near the harbour.”

“Then let’s hurry!” Cluny urged.

Hans said, “I think we must call a doctor for Mr. Widmer.”

The old man shook his head. “No, no! I’m all right. I’ll call my own doctor. You stop that bearded man. That’s the best medicine I can get now. Go on, go on!”

Jupiter hesitated only for a moment. Then he grinned at Mr. Widmer, and hurried out with Cluny and Hans. Hans drove downtown towards the harbour. They found the old-fashioned shop of Wright and Sons, Ship Chandlers on a side street not far from the water.

An elderly gentleman greeted them. “May I help you?”

“Do you have records back to 1872?” Cluny burst out.

Jupiter said, “We’re trying to find out —”

“If you are friends of that bearded ruffian who was just here,” the elderly man said stiffly, “you march right out!”

“We’re not his friends, sir,” Jupiter said, and explained briefly about their search.

“Angus Gunn, eh?” the old man said. “Alas, as I told that rude man, the earthquake destroyed all our older records.”

Jupiter was crestfallen. “Then there’s no way we can find out what Angus Gunn bought here back in 1872?”

The elderly man shook his head. “Unless… wait here. Browse through our stock, I may be five or ten minutes.”

The elderly man went up some stairs to a door marked “Private.” Hans, who loved unusual objects as much as Uncle Titus did, began to inspect all the marine wares. Cluny went to the front of the shop to study a ship model while Jupiter waited impatiently. Suddenly Cluny stared out of the store window.

“Jupiter!” the red-headed boy whispered urgently.

Jupiter hurried up. “What, Cluny?”

“Someone was out there watching the store!”

“Where?” Jupiter’s eyes searched the street.

“At the far end of the street! When I looked at him, he jumped behind that last building. Maybe it’s Java Jim!”

Jupiter glanced to the back of the shop. The elderly man hadn’t reappeared, and Hans was absorbed in an old ship’s clock. Jupiter beckoned to Cluny, and they went outside.

“Let’s see if we can spot him,” Jupiter said. They walked watchfully towards the harbour, keeping close to the buildings. At the corner they peered round. Cluny cried softly:

“Jupiter! A green Volkswagen!”

The small car was parked on the other side of the broad harbour street. Beyond it, Jupiter saw a small, moustached youth hurrying across an area of wet sand to an old wooden barge that was beached at the edge of the water.

“It’s not Java Jim, it’s Stebbins!” Jupiter exclaimed. They watched the wild-haired youth disappear behind the partially buried barge, his mouth moving as if talking. “He’s meeting someone, Cluny!”

“Java Jim, maybe?” Cluny guessed.

“Follow me,” Jupiter said grimly.

The stout leader of the Investigators walked across the street and approached the barge from the side.

“If it is Java Jim and Stebbins,” Jupiter whispered, “maybe we can hear them. Find out what they’re planning. And I’d like to know how Java Jim knew to go directly to Jesse Widmer.”

He motioned Cluny to silence and stopped at the barge, listening hard. But there was no sound from the other side.

“It’s too far,” Cluny whispered. “Let’s look round the other side.”

“No,” said Jupe. “We might run into them. We’ll spy on them from above.”

He pointed to a ladder on the side of the barge. It was a little difficult to climb, as the barge lay tilted lengthwise on a slope down to the water. Jupe managed to hoist himself up, and Cluny followed. Close together, they stepped lightly across the deck towards the far side — and with a ripping of rotten wood the deck gave way. They plummeted down into a black hole!