“The new what?” Pete exclaimed.

“Directional signal and emergency alarm,” Jupiter beamed proudly. “It was what I was working on yesterday, Second. I completed it this morning while waiting for you two. I only had time to finish two units, so we’ll take one and Bob can take the other. It’s just what we need this time. Our walkie-talkies would be too obvious. We mustn’t look as if we’re watching at all.”

“What does your signal do, Jupe?” Andy wanted to know.

“First, it’s a directional signal,” Jupiter explained. “What they call a ‘homer.’ It bleeps at a steady rate that gets louder and faster as you get nearer to it with another signaller, and there’s a dial on it that indicates direction. It’s a simple arrow-dial, showing if the signal is coming from right, left or straight ahead. Each unit is a sender and receiver, and they’re small enough to carry in a pocket.

“For emergencies the unit has a small, flashing red light that is activated without even being touched! It works on voice command. When one of us is in trouble, all he has to do is say the word ‘help’ near the unit, and the red light will flash on the other units!”

“Jiminy,” Andy said with awe. “You can do almost anything, can’t you, Jupiter?”

“Well, Andy” Jupiter preened for an instant “I try to keep our investigating work up to date. Our signal can only be picked up by our own units, and the range is three miles.”

“I’ll take mine and get to the carnival as soon as I can,” Bob said.

Bob went out into the salvage yard to get his bike and let Aunt Matilda know that he was on his way to the dentist. Jupiter, Pete and Andy soon followed and rode off on their bikes for the carnival. The sunny day was turning grey and the wind was rising. If they hadn’t been in Southern California in early September, the boys might have expected rain.

Even without rain, the day had become gloomy and brooding as the boys rode into the carnival lot.

“Andy,” Jupiter instructed as they dismounted from their bikes, “you go to your work so no one will become suspicious. But keep your eyes open round the shooting gallery. Pete can watch the performers rehearsing in the field over there and I’ll wander round the booths and tents. Look for anything even a little strange or suspicious. Is that clear?”

Andy and Pete both nodded, and the three boys began to stroll casually to their posts among the workmen and performers.

Bob arrived at his dentist to find him busy with an emergency patient, so he had to wait. Impatient, he read all the magazines and fumed at the delay that was keeping him from the carnival.

After he had finished all the magazines, he decided to see if the early edition of the Rocky Beach evening newspaper had any story about the carnival or Rajah’s escape. He found no mention of the lion, but he did find a feature story about the carnival, saying what a fine show it was and urging people to go.

Bob, whose Dad was a newspaperman on a large Los Angeles daily, knew at once that the story was what newsmen call a “hand-out”. The reporter hadn’t gone to the carnival at all. He had simply written the story from an information release given to him by the carnival.

This was common practice with small newspapers that couldn’t spare a reporter for such a small story. All the newspaper was really interested in was helping the carnival do good business and helping local businessmen sell to the customers attracted by the carnival. Bob realized that it was lucky that no reporter had been at the carnival last night — he might have seen Pete and Rajah or heard about the incident. If Rajah’s escape had been reported, the town authorities might have revoked the licence of the carnival. Suddenly Bob’s attention was caught by a small advertisement:

Special stuffed cats needed for children’s home. Must be stripedred-and-black, with crooked body, one eye, red collar. Will pay $25 for any stuffed cat fitting this description. Call Rocky Beach 7–2222.

Bob jumped up. The description exactly fitted the crooked cat Pete had won — and then lost last night! Bob tore out the advertisement and ran to the door of the dentist’s inner office.

“Doctor! I have to go,” he cried, and before the dentist could protest, he was running out towards his bike.

At the carnival, Pete had been watching for more than an hour in the grey afternoon. Nothing unusual had happened as far as the Second Investigator could tell. To look casual, he wandered round the field where all the performers rehearsed.

The two clowns were practising a different routine from the one the boys had seen last night. The tall, sad clown had a tiny broom and a long-handled dustpan. He went round sweeping up rubbish, and every time he raised the dustpan the bottom fell open, dumping out everything he had swept up. The tall clown looked gloomily at the fallen rubbish, and the fat little clown did flips of joy and ridicule.

The fire eater worked with flaming wads on the end of his swords. As Pete watched with wide eyes, the fire eater calmly put the flaming wads into his mouth!

Khan the strong man lifted weights and tore thick books. Pete watched him particularly, but Khan did nothing suspicious.

The Great Ivan worked inside his show cage with Rajah, teaching the magnificent lion a new trick on the striped tubs the boys had painted. Two wire walkers practised their dazzling show of skill and balance on a wire stretched between two high poles.

Pete watched it all, trying to look like a boy just interested in the feats of the performers.

But nothing happened in the open field.

Meanwhile, Jupiter had been prowling among the booths and tents where the roughnecks and booth operators were repairing and setting up for the night’s opening. He missed no booth nor show tent and retraced his steps many times. But he, too, found nothing that seemed suspicious. He had stopped to watch the whirling carousel when Andy Carson joined him. Andy had finished his work at the shooting gallery.

“Don’t you test the Ferris wheel, Andy?” Jupiter asked. He pointed to the motionless wheel, its gondolas covered with canvas.

“It costs too much to run,” Andy explained. “We start it up just before the carnival opens and give it a trial run then.”

“You have a mechanic to maintain it?”

“Sure, my Dad does that himself, Jupiter.”

Jupiter was thoughtful. “It’s your most important single ride. Almost the symbol of the whole show. If — ”

“Jupiter!” Andy broke in, “here comes Bob! He looks excited!”

They watched as Bob pedalled up to Pete, and both boys came up to Jupiter and Andy. Bob began to talk before he was even off his bike.

“Jupe! Someone wants crooked cats!”

“Cats just like the one I lost!” Pete exclaimed.

“I don’t think Pete lost it at all,” Bob cried, digging into his pocket for the advertisement he had torn out of the newspaper. “I think it was stolen! Look at this, First!”

They all crowded round Jupiter as he read the small ad. The First Investigator’s eyes became bright.

“It certainly sounds like Pete’s crooked cat,” he agreed. “Andy, how many of those crooked cats did you have?”

“Five here in Rocky Beach, Jupe,” Andy said. “Pete’s was the last one I gave out”

Jupiter nodded. “The last one, and Pete lost it or, as Bob says, maybe it was stolen. If it was, that was the second time the same cat was stolen — remember that moustached old man who stole it but dropped it. Fellows, I think we’re beginning to see the pattern!”

“What pattern, First?” Bob wanted to know.

“Someone wants those crooked cats, Records,” Jupiter stated firmly. “Maybe all of them, or just one. It explains why Rajah was let loose!”

“It does, Jupe?” Pete said. “How?”