Captain Hippolyte de Bouchard, and the 26-gun Santa Rosa, commanded by the pirate Pedro Conde and with a certain Lieutenant William Evans as second in command.

"The ships had 285 men aboard and flew the flag of Argentina. In 1818, Argentina was at war with Spain and had hired these infamous pirates to attack Spanish towns and ships. California was Spanish in 1818, so at dawn on November twenty-first the two ships opened fire on Governor Sola and the town of Monterey."

BOOM!!.

"Yipes!" Pete cried. He jumped a foot into the air as a single cannon beside him boomed out a cloud of smoke.

The smoke billowed across the deck and everyone began to sneeze.

"The sh.o.r.e batteries soon answered the cannonade!"

"Achoo!"

POP!.

The Black Vulture was approaching the first of the four small islands in the cove.

Jupiter and Pete could make out flimsy walkways connecting the islands to one another and to the sh.o.r.e. As the ship pa.s.sed the first island, four ragged cardboard figures of old-time Spanish soldiers sprang up out of the brush on some automatic mechanism that made them bob back and forth. A tiny old cannon on shaky wheels wobbled out of the island rocks and fired a second shot.

POP!.

"A violent artillery duel followed!"

BOOM! The ship cannon billowed its smoke again. POP! The tiny sh.o.r.e cannon wobbled and nearly collapsed.

"Soon the fierce de Bouchard landed an overwhelming attack force that put Governor Sola and his troops to rout!"

From the bowsprit of the slowly moving Black Vulture, two pirates swung on ropes to the tiny island, wooden knives in their teeth. On land, they drew cutla.s.ses, shouted nautical oaths, and attacked the cardboard figures, which immediately flopped back down into the brush. The pirates, obviously the weather-beaten ticket seller and young Jeremy in costume, unfurled a paper Jolly Roger and waved it in triumph.

"I'm beginning to see why Captain Joy isn't doing so good," Pete said.

"Yes, so am I," Jupiter said dryly.

The loudspeaker boomed on. "The pirates burned down every casa in Monterey except the mission and the custom house and then sailed south. Soon they reached Refugio Cove and the Ortega hacienda. The Ortegas put all their wealth into trunks and fled over Refugio Pa.s.s to the safety of Santa Ines Mission."

The Black Vulture had reached the second tiny island, and now two figures appeared out of its brush, wearing cowboy hats and vests. Obviously Jeremy and the old ticket seller had raced over the walkway from the first island and were now playing the parts of Spanish n.o.blemen. They proceeded to carry a single trunk over a tiny hummock of the island while the loudspeaker blared the sounds of a galloping army and the shouts of a horde of pirates.

"The pirates swarmed ash.o.r.e and set fire to the entire Ortega hacienda."

Back in pirate costumes, the ticket seller and Jeremy appeared carrying fake torches made of broom handles with red light bulbs glowing on the top. A smoke bomb emitted some thick smoke, painted cardboard ranch buildings flickered red from an obviously revolving wheel, and the two pirates capered grotesquely around the fake fire.

"The two ships continued on down the coast, burning and pillaging, until they reached the cove we now sail, then known as Buenavista Cove. Here the great Spanish landowners were determined to make a final stand to save Los Angeles and the other towns all the way down to San Diego."

The ship was now abreast of the largest of the islands in the cove. A whole host of cardboard figures painted in various old Spanish costumes sprang up all along a low ridge. The painting was crude, most of the colours had faded, and many of the figures were broken. An equally bedraggled set of cardboard pirates bounced up along the sh.o.r.e, and the ship's loudspeakers began to emit battle sounds. The "battle" went on for some time, with recorded cannon fire, pirate yells, brave Spanish defiance, and clashing of swords, while the small throng of tourists on board stared morosely at the pathetic event.

"They fought bravely, those old hidalgos of Alta California, but the pirates won, and this cove has been known ever since as Pirates Cove. De Bouchard and his cutthroats sacked all the haciendas, taking jewels and silver and gold, and then sailed on south to plunder every town they pa.s.sed until finally sailing away and never returning. But they left behind more than the name of a cove and burned haciendas.

They left the Purple Pirate!"

Captain Joy pointed dramatically towards the last island. There, high on a cement block, stood an imposing figure waving a bare cutla.s.s viciously at the air. Thick and stocky, the figure was dressed all in purple-from its broad pirate hat with a tall purple plume to its purple suede boots. The man wore a long purple cloak with gold braid along the edges, baggy purple pirate pants, and a purple mask above a fierce black moustache. He had a brace of old pistols in his purple belt, and a dagger in his boot.

"Lieutenant William Evans, second in command of the Santa Rosa, mutinied against de Bouchard, murdered Pedro Conde, and sailed back to Pirates Cove. Here he set up a pirate base, renamed his ship the Black Vulture, and terrorized the coast for many years. Always he wore purple, from plume to boots, and thus earned the infamous name of the Purple Pirate. He plundered far and wide, on land and sea, and defeated every military force set against him. He escaped repeatedly from his stone tower fortress, which still stands here at the Purple Pirate Lair - you see it there on your right - until one day in 1840 he was hopelessly trapped in it. Only he wasn't!

He just vanished and was never seen again! The Evans family still owns the peninsula and the tower today."

As Captain Joy told the story of the Purple Pirate, the pirate ship turned around and sailed back past the small islands. The boys followed Captain Joy's outstretched arm to see again the old four-storey stone tower off to the side of the tourist attraction. It looked remarkably unexciting and empty. Then the whole seedy show was repeated to ill.u.s.trate the raids and battles of William Evans. The ticket seller and Jeremy played all, the parts not taken by cardboard figures, running across the catwalks between the islands to keep up, until the lame show finally ended back at the dock. At that moment one of the air taxis from across the cove roared off overhead to ruin what feeble illusion there had been.

"That completes our ride, ladies and gentlemen, and our tale of the infamous Purple Pirate of California. You will find a refreshment and souvenir stand on your right as you leave the ship. Feel free to take as much time as you need. The next ride will be in fifteen minutes."

There was some laughter and some muttering, but most of the small crowd filed down the gangway in silence. A few paused at the souvenir stand to look among the ship models, daggers, miniature cutla.s.ses, and other plastic junk from Hong Kong.

The Mexican girl had closed the ticket booth and was now running the concession stand. Some of the kids made their parents buy them c.o.kes and hot dogs. Pete and Jupiter waited for the captain and Jeremy, peering into the stands and down the promenade, but the Joys did not reappear.

"I'm sure they live on the grounds," Jupiter said. They looked behind the shabby museum building. There was nothing on that side but the stone tower and oak trees.

But on the other side of the promenade, behind the refreshment and souvenir stands, they saw a large house trailer. They hurried over to it. A card on the door read: CAPTAIN MATTHEW JOY CAPTAIN MATTHEW JOY Jupiter knocked. There was no answer.

"Maybe the captain's still on the ship," Pete suggested.

"I doubt it, Second," Jupiter declared. "Perhaps he's inside and doesn't hear us."

The front windows of the trailer were covered by Venetian blinds, but at the rear, where the trailer faced the cove and the long pier of the abalone factory next door, they found an open window. Jupiter leaned in to see if anyone was inside.

"J-J-Jupe!" Pete stammered.

Jupiter whirled from the window. The Purple Pirate stood glaring at them. Suddenly, with a loud cry, the masked pirate raised his cutla.s.s and charged!

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Help!" Pete cried.

The boys were pinned against the metal trailer, the menacing cutla.s.s only inches away!

Chapter 7.

Trouble for Bob BACKED AS FAR AS they could go, Jupiter and Pete gulped and stared at the cutla.s.s inches from their chests.

"So, got you dead to rights, eh!" the gaudy figure of the Purple Pirate cried in the voice of the ticket seller. "Smack dab in broad daylight this time too!"

"W-w-we're just looking for Captain Joy, sir," Pete stammered. "We told you at the gate we-"

"Snooping in windows!" the masked man cried. "Sneaking around here at night!"

"At night?" Jupiter said. "This time? Has someone been sneaking around here at night often?"

"You know durn well how often you've been sneaking ..."

At that moment Jeremy Joy came around the corner of the trailer. He saw the Purple Pirate and the boys.

"Pete Crenshaw?" Jeremy said. "Jupiter Jones? What are you two doing here?"

Pete blurted quickly, "We came to see your dad, Jeremy!"

"You know these two?" the ticket seller in the Purple Pirate costume said, his voice still suspicious.

"Sure Sam. They go to my school. Put that sword away!"

Reluctantly the ticket seller put his cutla.s.s into its scabbard and removed his mask.

"Too dang many trespa.s.sers around here the last couple of nights."

"Sam has a suspicious nature, guys," Jeremy said, grinning, and introduced them.

"Sam Davis, this is Pete Crenshaw and Jupiter Jones. Salty Sam's my dad's helper and general a.s.sistant."

"Salty Sam," mused Jupiter. "That implies you've had a nautical career."

"Spent twenty years in the navy, if that's what you're drivin' at," retorted Sam.

"You mistook us for some intruders, apparently. This is our first visit to Pirates Cove. We came to talk to Captain Joy about Major Karnes," Jupe explained.

"Dad stopped to fix the coffee machine," Jeremy said. "Let's go find him."

They found Captain Joy at the coffee stand, facing a short, angry tourist.

"We've been cheated," the angry man was saying. "This so-called show is a piece of junk! We want our money back!"

"I'm sorry you didn't enjoy our attraction, sir," the captain said quietly, "but you're not ent.i.tled to a refund. There isn't a show in the world that someone wouldn't dislike."

The man glared in fury. "You haven't heard the last of this. You're taking money under false pretenses. We'll see what the Better Business Bureau around here has to say!"

He motioned to a woman and a boy and then strode off towards the parking lots.

Captain Joy took out a bright purple handkerchief and mopped his brow.

"I don't know how much longer we can go on without the money to operate properly," the captain said to Jeremy.

"Maybe we oughta just close 'er up, Cap'n," Salty Sam said. "Save what money you got left."

Jeremy glared at Sam, then turned to his father. "Gee, Dad, I know it'll all work out."

The captain sighed. "Maybe if Major Karnes keeps us telling stories long enough at twenty-five dollars an hour, we might be able to fix some things and start attracting more customers."

"I know he will, Dad!" Jeremy said eagerly.

"Sir," Jupiter said, clearing his throat. "That's exactly what we came to talk to you about."

"Talk to me?" the captain repeated, frowning at Jupiter and Pete. "Just who are you two boys? "

"Jupiter Jones and Pete Crenshaw, Dad," Jeremy said. "From my school.

They want to talk to you about Major Karnes."

"What about the major?" Captain Joy wanted to know.

"About what he's doing!" Pete exclaimed.

"We think there's something suspicious about him, sir," Jupiter explained.

"Suspicious?" echoed the owner of the Purple Pirate Lair, staring at the two boys.

"There's nothing suspicious about Major Karnes! Ridiculous! First the tourists and now you! Why don't you mind your own business!"

After discovering the sacks and digging tools in the van, Bob waited until Hubert and Major Karnes came out of the restaurant and drove away. Then he rode after them again, following the luminous trail with his special torch. This time the dots led him straight to Pirates Cove!

The trail of dots went past the parking lots and entrance to the Purple Pirate Lair.

There were few cars in the lots, and only two customers at the ice cream van parked out the front. Bob had no trouble following the luminous trail as it pa.s.sed the ice cream van, then led back again across the road. It went along a small wood past where a man was working on a tree, standing high on a cherry-picker on the back of a truck from Allen's Tree Service. The man was almost as high as the stone tower across the road, behind the wooden fence of the Purple Pirate Lair. Bob looked around, but he couldn't see the van, or the Major and Hubert, anywhere. The trail of dots led north up the road from the tree truck. It was as if it had stopped at the ice cream van, the tree-service truck, and then driven right on and ...

Bob blinked. Ice cream van? Tree-service truck? Ice cream van? Tree-service truck? The two men who were with the Major earlier that day! Karnes must have come to Pirates Cove just to talk to them and then had left again. The two men who were with the Major earlier that day! Karnes must have come to Pirates Cove just to talk to them and then had left again.

Bob hid his bike behind a bush and carefully slipped closer to the tree-service truck. He watched the man high on the lift. This time he could see the stocky man's face and dark hair, and he knew why the man had seemed familiar. He was the man named Carl who had operated the tape recorder in the empty store when the Investigators had met Major Karnes! And Bob realized, as he looked across the distance towards the ice cream van, that the ice cream vendor was Karnes's other a.s.sistant-the small, fat, bald one with the big moustache who had come into the empty store last.

It was undercover stakeout! In disguise! Bob wondered if the bald man had been watching here that first day while Carl and Hubert were at the store with the Major.

And perhaps Hubert had been watching this morning while Carl and the bald man were talking to Kames in Rocky Beach. The whole gang could be watching the Purple Pirate Lair twenty-four hours a day!

Suddenly Bob noticed that up on the cherry-picker Carl was using binoculars. He was watching something inside the Purple Pirate Lair, but the fence was too high for Bob to see what it was. Carl went on watching, and Bob made a quick decision. He could pick up the trail of Karnes and Hubert later - he wanted to see what Carl was so interested in.

Bob worked his way back down through the trees until he was opposite the entrance to the Purple Pirate Lair. Taking a last look at Carl, he saw that the dark-haired man had his binoculars trained away from the tourist entrance and off to the right. Now to enter the Lair without attracting attention! Bob walked casually across the road right past the ice cream van - the bald henchman of Major Karnes had never seen any of the boys - and up to the gates. The ticket booth was closed, but the gates were open. Bob strolled through and made a sharp right turn towards the rows of old oak trees and the stone tower beyond them.

He reached the trees and stood among them to examine the stone tower. Four stories high, with a flat, parapeted top, the tower stood almost at the edge of the cove on the north side of the peninsula. It was shut off from the road by the same high wooden fence that enclosed the Lair. There was nothing around the tower but open dirt and lawn all the way to the trees and the fence. Down the sh.o.r.e from the tower there was a sagging old boathouse. Bob couldn't see anything Carl might have been watching except the tower itself or the old boathouse. He decided to look at the boathouse first.

The rough-hewn boards of the boathouse were grey and weathered. There was a single window in front, and closed double doors. The whole building was leaning to the left and some boards were falling off. The structure looked as if it had been there since the days of the Purple Pirate himself.

Bob tried to peer in the window, but all he could see inside was the dark shine of water in the gloom. He walked over to the doors and pushed them gently. Then something hard jabbed into his back!

"Turn around son, very slowly," a deep voice said.

A broad-shouldered, medium-sized man wearing white trousers, rope sandals, and a blue T-shirt stood watching him. A man who held a pistol aimed straight at Bob!