“I don’t think we will,” Jupiter panted. “Look, he’s at Red Gate Rover! He must have seen one of you come in that way.”

“He’s through the fence,” Bob wailed.

The pursuers ran even faster. But by the time they all piled through Red Gate Rover and stood out on the street, Java Jim was nowhere in sight!

“The green VW!” Pete pointed.

The small green car was driving along the dimly lit street, picking up speed as it turned the corner.

“He’s escaped!” Bob moaned.

“I am sorry, boys,” Hans said, “but you are all safe. Now I must return to my work. It is almost dinnertime.”

The boys went back to the workshop and glumly surveyed the mess their trap had made.

“Now we’ll have to pile it all up again,” Pete said unhappily,” and we didn’t even stop Java Jim. He got away with the book.”

“He got away,” Jupiter agreed, “but not with the book!”

Smiling, the First Investigator reached inside his shirt and pulled out a thin sheaf of folded papers. It was the notebook — minus its cover!

“The pages were already coming loose from the binding when I discovered the notebook,” Jupe explained with a grin. “When I yelled ‘Plan One’ and Java Jim turned to look at you two, I just pulled the pages out and slipped them in my shirt. Then when we ran, I dropped the cover where Java Jim could see it. The cover and its oilskin wrapping were thick enough together to pass for the whole notebook. Java Jim naturally grabbed it and ran!”

Pete beamed. “That was fast thinking, Jupe.”

“It sure was!” Bob echoed.

“The hand is quicker than the eye,” Jupiter said smugly, “especially in the dark! But seriously, fellows, I think Java Jim has told us something he didn’t mean to.”

“Told us, Jupe?” Bob said. “What did he tell us?”

“That he is after much more than an Oriental sea chest,” Jupiter declared. “Did you notice he didn’t even ask about that ring, or attempt to take the chest?”

“Wow!” Pete said. “He didn’t, did he? He just wanted the book you found!”

“As if he knew the book was in the chest,” Bob added.

“Or at least suspected it might be,” Jupiter said. “I think it was the notebook that Java Jim wanted all along.”

“Gee, what kind of notebook could be so important?” Pete wanted to know.

Jupiter held up the notebook papers. “It’s a journal, Pete. A kind of diary of day-to-day happenings and actions. I —”

“A journal?” Bob exclaimed. “Gosh, I’ve just been reading a journal by a survivor of the Argyll Queen wreck.” The smallest of the boys related all that had happened at the Historical Society. “There wasn’t anything important in the pamphlet manuscript that Professor Shay hadn’t told me about, and the journal was just what happened to Angus Gunn for about two years. It told about the wreck, how he got to shore in a boat at dawn when the storm let up, and all about wandering around California until he found a place he liked and built a house.”

“Nothing about a treasure?” Pete asked.

Bob shook his head. “And nothing about the Captain, or danger, or anything except building his house. All pretty dull.”

But Jupiter didn’t think so. “Fellows, I found the thin journal inside a wall of the chest. You see, the chest has a double wall — a thin inner one and a heavy outer wall. Probably to fit the secret compartment in better, or to make the chest watertight. When I examined the chest earlier, I shook it and heard this faint thumping.

“When I looked closely at the inside, I saw that one wall contained a piece of wood that didn’t match the rest. The colour was a little off, and the grain was different. A repair had obviously been made, a long time ago. Anyway, I pried off the different board, and poked down in the narrow space between the two walls with a coat hanger, and pulled out the oilskin-wrapped journal!”

“Gee,” Pete said, “you think someone hid it there, Jupe?”

“No, I think the inner wall must have been broken for a while, and the journal slipped down in there accidentally. Then someone fixed the broken side without noticing the journal.”

“But Java Jim guessed it was in the chest, and he wants it,” Pete said. “But why?”

“Read the front page. Bob,” said Jupiter, handing the journal papers to him.

Bob went over to the light at the workbench and read out loud, “Angus Gunn, Phantom Lake, California, October 29, 1872! Why, it’s the same man who wrote the other journal! The survivor of the Argyll Queen!”

“When did the other journal end. Bob?” Jupiter asked.

Bob pulled out his notes. “Let’s see. Wait. Yes — the last day of the big journal was October 28, 1872! The new one’s the same journal! A continuation no one ever saw!”

“Maybe it tells about the treasure!” Pete exclaimed.

Jupiter shook his head.” I couldn’t find anything about treasure in it. It’s just like the journal Bob read — what Gunn did, where he went. That’s all.”

“Then why does Java Jim want it?” Pete wondered. “You think he’s just chasing the same old rumours?”

“Maybe it isn’t this new journal he wants at all,” Bob said.

Jupiter was thinking. “Bob, you said that the Gunn family gave the first journal to the Historical Society recently?”

“That’s right, Jupe,” Bob said. “Hey! That means —”

“That they must still live near here,” Jupiter said. “Come on, fellows!”

Jupiter crawled into Tunnel Two, and Bob and Pete followed. The tunnel ended below a trapdoor in the floor of Headquarters. The boys scrambled up and Jupiter got out the telephone book.

“Here it is — Mrs. Angus Gunn, 4 Phantom Lake Road! Get our map, Pete.”

Jupiter studied the large map while Bob prepared a new cover for the journal papers. Finally the stocky boy announced,

“There! About three miles east in the mountains.”

Jupiter grinned. “Tomorrow, fellows, we’ll get on our bikes and pay a visit to Mrs. Angus Gunn!”

The day was clear and cold when the boys cycled out of the salvage yard early the next morning. But by the time they stopped at a side road in the mountains, the sun was hot.

“There it is,” Pete said, wiping his brow. “Phantom Lake Road. It goes right on up into the mountains.”

“And steep,” Jupiter moaned. “We’ll have to walk the bikes up. Come on.”

The boys pushed their bikes up the side road, winding through tall trees. A creek beside the road, full now in winter, accounted for the trees in the dry mountains.

“I wonder where they got the name —” Bob said. “Phantom Lake, I mean. I never heard of any lakes in our mountains.”

Jupiter frowned. “That is odd, Records.”

“There are some reservoirs,” Pete pointed out.

“Not named Phantom Lake,” Bob said, “and I don’t —”

All three boys heard the car. Ahead of them and above, coming fast down Phantom Lake Road. They could hear its tyres squealing on the curves long before they could see it. Then the car came into view, careering towards them.

“It’s the green VW!” Pete exclaimed.

“Is it Java Jim?” Bob cried.

“Quick!” Jupiter said. “Hide!”

They flung their bikes off the road and jumped into the bushes as the small foreign car bore down on them. It flashed past — and screeched to a skidding stop. A man jumped out and started to run towards them.

“Hey! You kids! Stop right there!”

The man wasn’t Java Jim. He was a small, thin, younger man with a thick moustache and wild black hair. He was dressed all in black. He ran towards the boys, his dark eyes blazing.

“What do you kids want?”

The boys backed away.

“Run!” Pete cried.

They began to run up the edge of the road. The young man shouted again and ran after them. They crashed through the undergrowth.

“Who… who is he, Jupe?” Bob said, panting,

Pete said, “Let’s get away first, and ask later!”

“Maybe we should stop and talk to —” Jupiter began.