A MASTER ROGUE.
"As I said before," resumed Grattan, "I admire clever people. Goldstein is not clever. I send a letter to him at New York and tell him to come to Purling, ask for Pryne at the general store, and bring money enough to buy the Eye of Buddha. His covetous soul prompts him to defy the law, buy the ruby for half its value, and cheat Bunce and me. He rushes into the trap. I tell you he is as big a fool as Bunce—almost."
"Mercy!" begged Goldstein. "Oh, Mister Grattan, don't rob me! Der price of diamonds has gone off, and I lose much money——"
"Silence!" thundered Grattan.
Goldstein fell whimpering back against the wall.
"It was only by a chance, Motor Matt," went on Grattan, "that I discovered your trick in exchanging a letter of your own for one of mine in the ancient mariner's cap. Bunce did not know I was harbored in this old sugar camp. Pryne knew it, and also my sister, who happens to be Pryne's wife. No one else knew it. Bunce and I had discovered that we were being trailed by a San Francisco Chinaman, and that he was firing telegrams back to the slope for Tsan Ti. From Catskill I came here to wait until the ruby could be exchanged for Goldstein's money. Bunce went around the vicinity of Catskill keeping watch for the spying Chinaman, and for Tsan Ti. He didn't find the 'Frisco hatchet boy, but he did discover, this forenoon, that the mandarin was staying at the hotel on the mountain. Bunce was traveling around in an automobile, and he had my letter askinghim to come to Purling, which I had mailed to him at the Catskill post office. When he found Tsan Ti was staying in the hotel, Bunce thought he would hurry to Purling and take his chance of finding me. On the way down the mountain, as ill luck would have it, he passed you and the mandarin. Then came that exchange of notes. When Bunce discovered that, his panic was still further increased. The road he took to Purling passed along the foot of this hill.
"I was out taking my constitutional, at the time, and fate threw Bunce and me together, for I hailed him as he was passing. The driver of the automobile was a man we both knew we could trust. Bunce and I had a talk, and I read the letter you had put in his hat in the place of the one I had sent. The circumstances attending the exchange of that note convinced me that in you I had an uncommonly clever person to deal with. I guessed that you would use the note and try to find out where I was. I didn't want you to do that, but I arranged with Pryne, if you did, to bring you out here. I also sent Bunce on the rightabout back to the mountainside, and told him to make away with your motor cycles. That, I hoped, would keep you from Purling by giving you something else to hunt for instead of the Eye of Buddha. But I didn't know you—I failed to do your cleverness full justice.
"Bunce went into hiding at the roadside from the mountain top, knowing you would have to come that way. When you sped down the road in an automobile, with your chum and Tsan Ti, Bunce was rattled. He had been expecting you on motor cycles, and had framed up a little plan which he worked so successfully later. However, he put a bullet into one of the automobile tires and caused a smash. The fool! He came near getting us into the toils of the law so deep we could never have escaped. His folly continued, however, when he skulked close to the burning machine to note the extent of the ruin he had caused. He had a close call when you took after him. More by luck than by any good judgment, he got away from you, and was close enough to see and hear what went on when the owner of the wrecked automobile met and talked with you in the road.
"Bunce hunted up the driver of the car, who had been waiting for him in a convenient place not far from the road. The two went into hiding in the brush, spotted your motor-cycle lamps, captured your machines, and the wheels are now handily by to help us in our getaway."
Matt had listened to this talk abstractedly. He was waiting and listening for McGlory and the reënforcements. Why didn't they come? They had had ample time, and Matt was positive they would pick up the trail he had left and follow without difficulty. McGlory was a good trailer, and he would be quick to understand the sifted line of middlings when he saw it.
"Shipmate," said Bunce, "you haven't given me my proper rating. It wasn't all luck an' touch an' go with me. I done noble, I did."
"You mean well, Bunce, but you're not clever," said Grattan.
"My eye! Wasn't it clever the way I put on them scarecrow fixin's in the cornfield?"
"And then lost your nerve and ducked while Motor Matt and his chum were looking at you? Oh, yes, thatwasclever."
There was scorn in Grattan's voice.
Matt had heard enough to realize that Grattan was a master rogue. He was playing a bold game, and with consummate skill. He was willing to talk, to lay bare the innermost details of his work, for he had planned escape and felt sure he would get away. Matt wondered if he would not succeed in spite of McGlory and the men he was to bring with him.
Those balls, those balls of Ptah! They appeared to be the key that was to help Grattan through the coil of the law.
"I am rewarding you, Motor Matt, for your cleverness," pursued Grattan, "and for the narrow escape Bunce gave you in that automobile. The reward is the Eye of Buddha. I sell it to Goldstein for the money he has in that satchel; then, while Bunce and I are safely out of the hut, I break one of the balls of Ptah by hurling it through the open door; you and Goldstein become unconscious; you recover and make a prisoner of Goldstein; and, finally, by due process of law, you recover the ruby for Tsan Ti. Very simple. So far as I can see, Goldstein is the only one to suffer."
Matt was still listening, listening. Where in the world was McGlory?
Grattan turned toward the shivering Jew.
"Goldstein," said he sternly, "how much money have you in that satchel?"
"Mercy, Mr. Grattan!" implored the diamond merchant. "I have lost much money by der decline in——"
"How much have you in the satchel?" repeated Grattan.
"Only a little, Mr. Grattan. I dit not bring much."
"Didn't you bring enough to pay a good price for the ruby?"
"How was I to know vat der ruby was worth? Fife thousand dollars is what I brought——"
"Five thousand! Five thousand to pay me for two years of planning, and the risk! You have brought more than that."
"Where is der ruby, Mr. Grattan?"
"Where you'll not find it until I see how much money you have in the satchel. Give it to Bunce. Bunce, you open the grip and count the money."
"Don't do that, please, Mr. Grattan! I have lost much money by der drop in——"
"Take it over and give it to Bunce."
Tremblingly, Goldstein got up with his precious satchel. His face was pallid, and he seemed scarcely able to move. He started toward the sailor; then, suddenly, when he was close to Pryne, he whirled and grabbed at the exposed revolver.
The satchel dropped, and Goldstein, with the fury of desperation, fought like a madman. It was his money he was fighting for—money that was, perhaps, dearer to him than life itself. Nothing else could have goaded him into such a mad attempt to escape from the hut.
Bunce sprang toward the struggling pair at the door, and Grattan also arose and stepped toward them.
This offered Matt a chance for a daringcoup. Unseen in the excitement, and unheard because of the noise of the scuffle, he glided to the table and opened the box. Deftly he extracted one of the balls and allowed the box-cover to fall into place. The ball passed into his pocket.
While he stood by the table, Grattan suddenly caught sight of him.
"Go back to your bench, Motor Matt!" he ordered. "You have everything to gain and nothing to lose by sitting tight and obeying orders. Get back, I tell you."
Matt backed to the bench and sat down. Bunce and Pryne flung Goldstein to the floor, and while Pryne kicked him toward his seat Bunce regained his own place with the satchel.
"I did not think Goldstein had it in him," laughed Grattan. "When you take his money, you touch him in a vital place. Be sensible, Goldstein," he added. "We've got too strong a grip on you."
The Jew lifted himself to the stool, bruised and battered. His head was bowed and he presented a pitiable sight.
"Now, then, Bunce," said Grattan, "look into the satchel. Let's see how much Goldstein brought with him for purposes of barter. I didn't expect to get anywhere near what the Eye of Buddha was worth, but——"
There came a pounding on the door. Instantly all were on their feet, consternation written large in every face but Grattan's and Matt's. Grattan believed that, even with intruders at hand, he was master of the situation. Matt, armed with one of the balls of Ptah, was inclined to dispute the question with him.
"Open up!" cried a voice.
There was a bar across the door and Pryne stood with one hand on the fastening to make sure it held against the attack. Grattan fluttered a hand for silence.
"Who's there?" he demanded.
"Porter, the constable, from Purling, and five other men."
Grattan leaped to the table and caught up the box. Holding it in front of him, the buckthorn cane under his arm, he whispered to his confederates:
"Bunce, you and Pryne stand ready to leave the room. When I give the word, go—and go quick."
Then, lifting his voice, Grattan added:
"Open the door, Pryne, and admit the constable from Purling and five men."
Pryne bent to the bar.
"Stop!" cried Matt.
Pryne raised himself quickly. He and Bunce, Grattan and even Goldstein stared at the king of the motor boys.
Matt was standing on the bench, his right hand lifted, and one of the shimmering spheres in his hand.
"Don't come in here yet, McGlory!" shouted Matt. "I'll give the word when I want you to come. You see, Grattan," he added, "I'd a little rather have my friends stay on the outside until they can come in hereafterI break the glass ball."
THE GLASS SPHERES.
Tremors shook the one-eyed sailor. The satchel quivered in his hands. Pryne was filled with consternation, and showed it as plainly as did Bunce. The full meaning of the situation had not dawned on Goldstein as yet, but the light was slowly breaking. Grattan alone, of all those confronting Matt, seemed in full possession of his wits.
"Don't throw that, don't throw that!" stuttered Bunce. "Avast, I say!"
"Where'd he get the thing?" demanded Pryne.
"Clever lad!" murmured Grattan. "You must have taken that out of the box during the disturbance caused by Goldstein. I saw you by the table, but I didn't think that was your game. Well, what are you intending to do? You have one of the balls and I have three. I don't know that I grasp your intentions."
"If these glass balls are broken," answered Matt steadily, "it means that all of us, every person in this room, will be stretched out on the floor, unconscious and helpless. Those outside will escape the effects of the narcotic, or whatever it is contained in the spheres. Those who are at the door happen to be my friends. They will wait a space; then, after the fumes have cleared out of the room, they will come in, make prisoners of you, Bunce and Pryne, save Goldstein's money for him, and recover the Eye of Buddha."
"Let me understand this fully," continued Grattan. "How do you know those outside are your friends?"
"Listen," said Matt. "McGlory!" he called.
"On deck, pard!" came the answer of the cowboy. "You're in a nice row of stumps, I must say. Who's in there with you?"
"Grattan, Bunce, Goldstein, and Pryne."
"What's the layout?"
"I'm on a bench at one side of the room with one ofthe glass balls. Grattan stands opposite me with three more. If I throw the ball I'm holding, then I want you fellows to wait until it's safe to come in."
"Speak to me about that!"
Grattan was thoughtful.
"How did those fellows manage to find their way here?" he asked.
"Pryne had a sack of ground feed in the back of the wagon. I slashed it with my knife and we left a plain trail."
"Jumpin' Mariar!" breathed Pryne.
"You've hit it off nicely, Pryne!" scowled Grattan. "Annabelle ought to be proud of you for that. Bunce isn't the only fool I've been tied up with, this time." He turned again to the king of the motor boys. "You're deeper than I imagined, but you're a point shy in your reasoning, son. You'll not get the Eye of Buddha by proceeding in that fashion. I was dealing generously with you when I offered to trade the ruby for Goldstein's money."
"You have no right to rob Goldstein," said Matt. "I couldn't help you without being equally guilty."
"Goot boy!" applauded Goldstein. "That's der truth."
"This diamond merchant," argued Grattan, "is only a 'fence' for stolen property. He came out here to cheat me, cheat Tsan Ti, cheat the law. We're simply beating him at his own game."
"Two wrongs never made a right," answered Matt.
"You talk foolishly. But, even though you carry out your plan, I say againyou will not get the Eye of Buddha. That is safely hidden where it will never be found. Besides—look at Bunce."
Matt had been giving his full attention to Grattan. He now swerved his eyes toward the sailor and found a revolver leveled in his direction.
"Here's Scoldin' Sairy starin' ye in the face," said Bunce. "Don't tease us no more or she'll speak."
"The moment that ball leaves your hand, Motor Matt," declared Grattan, "Bunce will fire. The rest of us will be left merely unconscious on the floor, but you—well, you're clever enough to imagine what will happen toyou. Are you willing to talk sense? I promise to leave the Eye of Buddha with Goldstein in exchange for his satchel of money, but we must be allowed to escape with the satchel."
"I'll not help you rob Goldstein," answered Matt.
"Ye'd rather be sent to Davy Jones' locker, I suppose?" put in Bunce. "That's where ye'll go, as quick an' sure as though ye was wrapped in canvas and thrown over the side with a hundred-pound shot at yer pins."
Goldstein, palpitating between hope and despair, watched and listened to this crossfire of threat and defiance wherein the fate of his money was at stake. A half-crazy light arose in his eyes and he seemed meditating some desperate move.
Grattan lifted his voice.
"Hello, out there! We've got Motor Matt under the point of a revolver, and if you don't retreat from the vicinity of this hut, there'll be shooting."
"Is that so, pard!" came wildly from McGlory.
"Stay where you are," cried Matt. "They won't shoot—they don't dare."
"Bunce," began Grattan, "you'd better——"
Grattan had no time to finish. With a wild yell of fury Goldstein flung himself at Grattan and seized the buckthorn cane, jerking it away and whirling it about his head.
"The buckthorn!" shouted Bunce, in more of a panic than the Jew's manœuvre seemed to call for; "he's got the buckthorn cane!"
Grattan let go of his temper for the first time, and whirled and leaped at Goldstein. The Jew struck at him viciously, the blow falling short and knocking the box of glass balls out of his hand and upon the floor.
"Mask! mask!" bellowed Grattan.
The box flew open as it fell and Matt caught a glimpse of broken glass fragments flying out of it, and of something white lifted to the faces of Grattan and Bunce. All was turmoil in the room. Grattan rushed at Goldstein and tried to recover the cane. Matt flung at him the ball—the last conscious act the king of the motor boys could remember.
The pungent odor arose to his nostrils, choking him, blinding his eyes and robbing him of his strength. He crashed down from the bench, and then a mighty hand seemed to sweep over him and drop a black pall of silence.
Motor Matt opened his eyes. He was lying out in the sun, the bare boughs of the maples over him, and McGlory kneeling at his side.
"You had a rough time of it, old pard," said McGlory, "but you didn't stop a bullet—and that's some satisfaction."
Matt groped around in his mind to pick up the trend of events. Suddenly all the details flashed through his brain.
"What became of Grattan and Bunce?" he asked, sitting up.
"They smashed through a boarded-up window, pard," replied McGlory.
"And got away?"
"Like a couple of streaks. They used our motor cycles."
"Why don't you follow them?"
"Follow them? What's the good? That happened an hour ago. The Purling constable rushed back to the village to do some telephoning, and it's barely possible the two tinhorns will be corralled. I wouldn't bank on it, though. Luck hasn't been coming that way for us since we struck the Catskills."
"An hour ago!" muttered Matt, rubbing his forehead. "It seems as though all this excitement had only just happened."
"That's the way those dope balls act. I was afraid of 'em. And it wasn't so blooming pleasant for us fellows to stand out here while all that ruction was going on in the house. When One Eye and his pal crashed through the window—or maybe it wasn't a window but a hole in the wall that was just patched up with boards—we all took after 'em. Out close to the road they jumped on a couple of motor cycles—ours, by the looks of them—and were off a-smoking. When they came out of the cabin they had white things over their faces——"
"Masks," said Matt. "They had them handy. But for that you'd have found them in the cabin along with Goldstein and me. By the way, whereisGoldstein?"
"We left him in the house. We weren't in so much of a hurry to bring him to his senses as we were you."
"And Pryne—what's become of him?"
"Stretched out beside the diamond buyer."
"Did you find the Eye of Buddha?"
"That's a dream, Matt. No, we didn't find it. All we found was a satchel of money—the satchel Goldstein had with him at the store in Purling."
"There were six of you—five with the constable. Where are the other four?"
"The constable miscalled the number," laughed McGlory, "so his talk would have a bigger effect. There were only four of us all told. You see, we left the driver of the car in Purling to look after Bunce when he showed up there. And he was here, all the time! Sufferin' surprises! Say, I was sure stumped when I heard the Hottentot was in that cabin."
"There were three besides you," went on Matt, persisting in his attempt to get the matter of numbers straight in his mind, "and the constable has gone to Purling. Where are the other two?"
"Here they come," and McGlory pointed to a couple of Chinamen, who at that moment emerged from the hut.
Matt stared and rubbed his eyes.
"Am I still under the influence of those glass balls?" he muttered, "or is that really Tsan Ti coming this way?"
"It's the mandarin, fast enough," chuckled McGlory, "and the chink that's with him is Sam Wing."
Observing that Matt had recovered his senses, Tsan Ti hastened forward.
THE EYE OF BUDDHA.
Tsan Ti was not particularly happy. He seemed pleased to meet Matt once more, but underlying this pleasure was a deep and settled melancholy.
"Greetings, astonishing friend," said the mandarin. "You have performed actions never to be forgotten; imperishable deeds which——"
"Cut out the frills, Tsan Ti," interrupted Matt, "and tell me where you went after Joe and I left you at the wrecked car."
"Sam Wing approached me while I was seeking exhaustively for the yellow cord, which I had lost and which I had the overwhelming desire to use. Sam Wing was ascending the mountain, traveling on foot, to gain the top and find me. He had a report to convey. He conveyed it. He had seen the aged mariner in Purling, and he had come at once for me. I stopped for nothing—not even to explain my absence to you who had left me in such hurry. I went with Sam Wing forthwith, and we found some one to transport us to Purling. There we watched out the night in vain, and toward morning repaired to the house of a poor person, who afforded us food and a couch on which to rest. I was resting when Sam Wing came to my side and declared there was a youth in the place who was hunting for the peace officer. I went out, hoping to meet the peace officer myself and ask for news of the sailor. Imagine my marvelous astonishment upon discovering your distinguished friend. He wanted men and he could find few, so Sam Wing and myself accompanied him. Accept my congratulations, eminent friend, upon your escape. It is with sorrow, however, that I view the flight of the sailor and that other, whom I saw, on a former momentous occasion, wearing a sun hat with a pugree. These, I imagine, assisted their escape out of the sense-destroying fumes."
From his blouse, Tsan Ti developed two squares of white cloth with holes clipped in each to fit a pair of eyes. A strong odor of drugs accompanied the display of the masks.
"It was objects similar to these," went on the mandarin in pensive retrospection, "with which the thieves covered their faces in the temple at Honam. Pah!" and he flung the bits of cloth from him in repulsion.
"You were a long time getting here, Joe," said Matt, turning to his chum.
"I was a long time getting the constable," answered Joe, "and there wasn't anotherhombrein the town who cared to take the risk of going with me. Finally I found the constable, and then Tsan Ti and Sam Wing came our way. We started, in a rig the constable borrowed from in front of the general store."
"You picked up the trail?"
"Tell me about that!" laughed McGlory. "Sure we picked it up, pard. How could we have missed it?"
"It is unfortunate," spoke up Tsan Ti gloomily, "that the yellow cord was lost at the time the devil car took fire. It was of great importance to me as the means of carrying out the invitation given by our gracious regent.The sailor and his confederate have fled, and the Eye of Buddha has gone with them. The ten thousand demons of misfortune continue to make me feel their displeasure. There is nothing left but the happy dispatch."
"Aw, cheer up," growled McGlory. "Buy a string of laundries, somewhere, and tell your gracious regent to go hang."
"I am bound by ancient ceremony to accept and use the cord," insisted Tsan Ti, mildly but firmly.
"Well, you've got a few days yet. Don't use the cord until you have to."
"I cannot use it until I find it, solicitous friend."
"Suppose you never find it?"
"Then Kien Lung will hunt for me and give me a second."
"Sufferin' heathens!" murmured McGlory, in disgust.
Matt got to his feet.
"Let's go and see how Goldstein is getting along," he suggested. "What became of that satchel, Joe?"
"We left it in the house—thought that was the safest place for it."
"We'll have to take care of that. It contains the money Goldstein brought to use in buying the Eye of Buddha."
Together Matt, McGlory, Tsan Ti and Sam Wing made their way back to the hut. Just as they reached the door Goldstein sprang to his feet, the buckthorn cane in his hand.
"Look at him!" exclaimed McGlory. "He's still locoed, Matt, and in about the same state of mind you and I were when we repaired that bursted tire, rode to the Mountain House, and went to sleep in the hammocks."
The diamond merchant's face was full of anger and apprehension. His clouded faculties were still possessed of the notion, it seemed, that his satchel of money continued to be the object of Grattan's designs.
Jumping at the log wall, Goldstein struck a terrific blow with the head of the cane.
"I hope he keeps hammering the wall," breathed the cowboy. "If he ever came at one of us like that we'd have to take him down and lash his hands and feet. Gee, but he's vicious."
Again and again Goldstein struck the logs with the cane. At last the head of the cane snapped and flew into fragments, and a glittering object flashed toward the door, struck Sam Wing and dropped downward. A gleam of sun caught the object, and it glowed like a huge drop of blood.
A chattering screech went up from Tsan Ti, and forthwith he slumped to his knees and picked the object up in his trembling hands.
Startled Chinese words came from Sam Wing; the mandarin answered, and there followed a frantic give and take of native gibberish, mostly whoops, grunts and falling inflections.
"Sufferin' gold mines!" cried McGlory. "Say, pard, is that red thing the Eye of Buddha?"
"It must be," answered Matt excitedly, hurrying into the room and picking up the cane and some of the fragments of the head. "Great spark plugs!" he exclaimed, examining the pieces.
"What do you make out, pard?" demanded McGlory.
"Why," went on Matt, "the head of the cane was hollow,and the ruby was concealed in it!"
"No!"
"Fact! Here, look for yourself. I wondered why Grattan was so careful of that cane. The last thing I remember was seeing him rush at Goldstein and try to get the cane away from him. Goldstein had grabbed the stick and had knocked the box of glass balls out of Grattan's hand with it. Of course, at the time Grattan tried to get the stick back, the balls were spilling their knock-out fumes all over the room, and he couldn't waste much time getting into his mask and lighting out. He had to leave the cane behind—it was either that or be laid out by the glass balls and captured. Perhaps he thought we'd never find out the ruby was in the cane and that he could come back later and recover it."
"Goldstein has smashed the mystery!" jubilated McGlory, "and when he comes to he won't know a thing about it."
Matt was dazed, and the two excited Chinamen were still gabbling like a couple of frantic ducks; McGlory was walking around, rubbing his eyes, and Goldstein was sitting on the stool undergoing the last stage of his awakening.
"What's der matter?" inquired the diamond broker. "Where is—what is—— Ach, der satchel, der satchel!"
His eyes had alighted on the grip, and he shot off the stool and gathered up the precious object. His first move was to open it and make sure of the contents.
"Where is Grattan?" he asked, with a sudden tremor. "Where is der feller that wanted to steal my money?"
"You don't have to fret about him any more," said McGlory. "He's lit out—in something of a hurry. I don't reckon he'll be back."
"What a lucky escape, what a lucky escape!" chanted Goldstein; "mein gracious, what a lucky escape!"
Matt, observing that Tsan Ti and Sam Wing were not yet done with their wild felicitations, strolled around the room. He saw the place where Bunce and Grattan had crashed through the wall. Fire, at some time or other when the sugar makers were boiling their sap, had eaten into the logs, leaving a large hole which had been covered with boards. Grattan and Bunce, knowing about the weak spot in the wall, had chose to get out of the cabin in that way rather than by attempting to pass through the door.
While Matt was looking at the breach in the timbers, he heard a series of shouts from the Chinamen. A glance in their direction gave him a fleeting glimpse of Pryne, forcing his way through the door and over the heads of Tsan Ti and Sam Wing.
"That tinhorn's getting away!" shouted McGlory.
He would have chased after Pryne had Matt not gripped him by the shoulder and held him back.
"Let the fellow go," said Matt. "He was roped into the game by Grattan, and was only a tool, at the most. We've recovered the Eye of Buddha, and have saved Goldstein's money for him, so I guess we're doing well enough."
The rough way the Chinamen had been treated by Pryne appeared to have made them remember that there were others in the cabin besides themselves.
Tsan Ti got up, balanced the ruby on the palm of his hand, and stepped toward Matt, as happy a mandarin as could be found, in China or out of it.
"See, estimable and glorious friend," he cried. "This is the Eye of Buddha, which caused me so much misfortune and came near to causing my death. It has been found, and but for you it would have been lost to me forever. My life is yours, illustrious one, my fortune, my lands—everything I own!"
Matt paid little heed to the mandarin's rapturous talk. His eyes were on the ruby, which was as large as a small hen's egg and of the true pigeon's blood color. Its flashing beauty was marvelous to behold.
"Out of my goodness of heart," went on the mandarin, "and from no desire to insult, believe me, I shall present my eminent friend with a thousand dollars and his expenses. Is it well, excellent one?"
"Quite well, thank you," laughed McGlory, answering for his chum. "Here, Tsan, take this and send it back to your gracious regent. Tell him to use it on himself, and oblige."
With that, the cowboy laid the ominous yellow cord across the mandarin's shoulders.
THE BROKEN HOODOO.
The constable, in leaving the sugar camp for Purling to do his telephoning, had taken his own rig. Having finished his work in Purling, he made his return journey to the sugar camp in the automobile which Matt and McGlory had hired. A few words were enough to convince the driver of the car that it was useless for him to wait at the general store for the one-eyed sailor.
The automobile could not ascend the rough hill road, but waited at the foot of the slope while the constable climbed to the sugar camp and informed those there that a conveyance was ready to take them wherever they wanted to go.
Pryne having suddenly recovered and bolted, only Matt, McGlory, Goldstein, and the two Chinamen were in the hut. Without loss of time they accompanied the constable down the long wooded slope.
"What are the prospects for capturing Bunce and Grattan, officer?" inquired Matt, while they were slipping toward the foot of the hill.
"Mighty poor," answered the constable, "if you want me to give it to you straight. But I've done everythin' I could. There ain't any telegraft line to Purling, so I had to telephone my message to Cairo. They're pretty much all over the hills by now."
"Then what makes you think Bunce and Grattan will get away?"
"Why, they'll be goin' so tarnation fast on them pesky machines there won't be any constable in the hills with an eye quick enough to recognize 'em from the description. Anyhow, what do you care? The fat Chinaman's happy, an' the Jew's so glad he walks lop-sided. What is it to you whether them hoodlums git away or not?"
"Oh, hear him!" muttered McGlory. "It means three hundred cold, hard plunks to us, constable. The two pesky machines that took those tinhorns away have to be paid for by Motor Matt and Pard McGlory."
"Do tell!"
"If you hated to hear it as bad as I hate to tell it you wouldn't ask me to repeat."
"Noble sir," spoke up Tsan Ti, "you and your worshipful friend shall not be out a single tael. I, whom you have benefited, will pay for the go-devil machines. That, if you will allow me, comes in as part of your expenses."
"Now, by heck," said the constable, "that's what I call doin' the han'some thing. I've put in a leetle time myself, to-day," he added, "an' I cal-late I'm out nigh onto ten dollars. But I helped do some good, an' that's enough fer me."
"Here, exalted sir," observed the mandarin, and dropped a twenty-dollar gold piece into the constable's palm.
"I don't believe I got any change," said the officer.
"No change would be acceptable to me," answered Tsan Ti, with dignity.
"Waal, now, ain't I tickled? There's a dress in that fer S'manthy an' the kids. 'Bliged to ye."
"The old boy's beginning to get generous, Matt," whispered McGlory. "Maybe, after all, he really intends to fork over that thousand and expenses."
"Of course he does," said Matt.
When they reached the automobile, all six of them crowded into the car. Seven passengers—counting the driver—made tight squeezing in accommodations built for five, but Goldstein and the constable were droppedat Purling, and comfort followed those who remained, thereon.
Goldstein, following his burst of ecstasy over the recovery of the satchel, had relapsed into a subdued condition. Very likely he realized that he was under something of a cloud, inasmuch as he had come to Purling to treat with a thief for the loot of a magnificent haul. Goldstein remembered that Grattan had not been at all backward in giving Motor Matt the details of everything connected with the Eye of Buddha, and the reflections of the diamond broker could not have been at all comfortable or reassuring.
Matt allowed the Jew to go his way without a rebuke. He felt that the man had been punished enough; and, besides, he was the cause of their discovering the place where the ruby had been concealed. But for Goldstein, the Eye of Buddha might never have been located.
On the way to Catskill from Purling, Matt gave an account of what had taken place in the old sugar camp. Grattan had been at considerable pains to explain many things that had been dark to Matt and his friends, and the king of the motor boys passed along the explanation.
The history of the Egyptian balls was particularly interesting to Tsan Ti, no less than other details connected with the robbery; and the way Bunce had played tag up and down the mountainside with Matt and McGlory held a deep fascination for the cowboy.
"Taking this little fracas by and large," observed McGlory, when Matt had finished, "I think it's about the most novel piece of business I ever had anything to do with. It began with a lot of 'con' paper talk shoved at Pard Matt by Tsan Ti, and from the moment we met up with the mandarin there's been nothing to it but excitement, and a little uncertainty as to just where the lightning was going to strike next."
"You two illustrious young men," said Tsan Ti gravely, "have laid me under staggering obligations. Money may pay you for your loss of time, but nothing except my gratitude can requite you for the excellence of your service. You will hear from me through Sam Wing to-morrow."
The boys got out of the automobile at the hotel, and Matt had the car take Tsan Ti and Sam Wing up the mountain to the Kaaterskill.
"They're a pair of pretty good chinks, after all," said McGlory, "and I'm glad to think I had a little something to do with keeping the yellow cord from getting in its work on Tsan Ti."
On the following day, Tsan Ti sent Sam Wing to Catskill with a heavy canvas bag.
"Me blingee flom Tsan Ti," explained Sam Wing. "Him takee choo-choo tlain fol San Flisco, bymby ketchee boat fol China. Heap happy."
"He has a right to be happy," said McGlory.
"How much did he have to put up for that wrecked motor car, Sam?" asked Matt.
"Twenty-fi' hunnerd dol'."
"He went and stung him!" whooped McGlory. "The old robber."
"No makee hurt. Twenty-fi' hunnerd dol' all same Tsan Ti likee twenty-fi' cent to me. Him plenty lichee man."
When Sam Wing went away, Matt and McGlory dumped the contents of the canvas sack out on the table. The money was all in gold, and totaled two thousand dollars, even.
"He figured out expenses at a thousand dollars," remarked the cowboy. "They're 'way inside that figure."
"He's the sort of fellow, Joe," said Matt, "who'd rather pay a man ten dollars when he only owed him five, than five when he owed ten."
"Sure! He's the clear quill, but he sure had me guessing, the way he jumped around. I'll bet he connected with more good, hard jolts on this trip to America than he ever encountered in his life before."
"We came pretty near it, ourselves," laughed Matt. "I can't remember that I ever had a more violent time."
"It was some strenuous, and that's a fact. If you live a hundred years, pard, and drive automobiles all the while, you'll never scrape closer to kingdom come, and miss it, than you did when we came down the mountainside with the mandarin at the steering wheel."
"I wouldn't go through that experience again for ten times the amount of money there was in that bag."
"I wouldn't, either—not for the Eye of Buddha. There's no easy money in turning a trick for Tsan Ti. I reckon we earned all we got."
THE END.
THE NEXT NUMBER (31) WILL CONTAIN
Motor Matt's Mariner;
OR,
FILLING THE BILL FOR BUNCE.
"Buddha's Eye"—The Green Patch—Motor Matt, Trustee—Bunce has a Plan—Bunce Speaks a Good Word for Himself—The Home-made Speeder—Trapped—The Cut-out Under the Ledge—Between the Eyes—The Man from the "Iris"—Aboard the Steam Yacht—Grattan's Triumph—From the Open Port—Landed, and Strung—A Crafty Oriental—The Mandarin Wins.
"Buddha's Eye"—The Green Patch—Motor Matt, Trustee—Bunce has a Plan—Bunce Speaks a Good Word for Himself—The Home-made Speeder—Trapped—The Cut-out Under the Ledge—Between the Eyes—The Man from the "Iris"—Aboard the Steam Yacht—Grattan's Triumph—From the Open Port—Landed, and Strung—A Crafty Oriental—The Mandarin Wins.
NEW YORK, September 18, 1909.
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"At the time I commenced following the sea," said old Captain Gifford, in relating a thrilling experience of his early life, "there were pirates all about the West Indies, and the dread of them was always uppermost in a sailor's thoughts. We didn't mind the yellow fever. When a man died with that, he died—it was a visitation of Providence, and his fate was to be thought upon calmly and sorrowfully; there was no horror in the reflection. But to be murdered—murdered upon the high seas—that was a thing which it made one sick to think of.
"Resistance on the part of a ship's crew, if unsuccessful, was certain death—and often, too, in the most cruel form; for the revengeful, drunken pirates, with their worst passions aroused by the conflict, would in such a case take delight in torturing their victims. And even where no opposition had been attempted, the plea that 'dead men tell no tales' was generally sufficient to insure the massacre of all on board.
"So you see it was about as long as it was broad. There was very little encouragement to surrender. It was simply a question as to whether one would die fighting like a lion or be butchered on the deck like a sheep.
"Of course there were exceptions; but these were not frequent enough to inspire much hope in the event of capture. Slaughter was the rule, and if not committed in every instance, the fortunate ones might thank their stars.
"In those days we used to hear dreadful stories of such tragedies. Sometimes these would come to light through the confessions of condemned pirates; while in other cases a single survivor of some hapless crew of a merchantman would relate the tale of the capture and death of his shipmates—he himself having been spared through some freak of the miscreants, perhaps to serve on board their vessel.
"I commenced following the sea at the age of fifteen, making my first voyage in the brigAgenora, Captain Christopher Allen, bound to Trinidad de Cuba. In all there were nine persons belonging to her, being the captain, the two mates, and the cook, with five hands before the mast, counting a son of Captain Allen and myself. But, of course, I did not amount to much at that time.
"Young Argo Allen was seventeen, so that he had the advantage of me by two years, besides having made one voyage to the West Indies. He was one of the best fellows that ever lived; and having learned on his first voyage to 'hand, reef, and steer' after a fashion, he was always ready to assist me to the extent of his knowledge. Indeed, I think one young sailor generally feels a sort of pride in helping another who knows less than himself.
"We had a long passage out, with calms and head winds, and Argo and I talked much of pirates. He told me how scared he had been upon his former voyage, when the vessel was overtaken by a low, black schooner, which, upon coming up with her, sailed past within a cable's length, with a crew of fifty or sixty horrible-looking wretches staring at the brig in perfect silence.
"'After getting a little ahead,' said Argo, 'she tacked and came back. My hair rose right up then—it fairly lifted my hat! But she simply repassed us on the other side, and went off about her business.'
"'How do you account for it all?' I asked.
"'Oh, that's easy enough,' he replied. 'We were outward bound, with a cargo of New England produce, and the pirates knew that we were not likely to have money on board. This was all that saved us; but I wouldn't be so scared again for the price of the brig!'
"So Argo Allen had seen a real pirate, and it actually made me look up to him with a kind of admiring awe, not that I had any desire to meet with a like experience; but then it must, I thought, have been so thrilling—such a thing to think of and to tell of!
"On arriving at Trinidad, we disposed of our cargo at a very high price; while, on the other hand, our return invoice of molasses was purchased at an unusually low figure; so that, after loading for home, Captain Allen found that he had, above all expenses, a good three thousand dollars in doubloons.
"Meanwhile Argo and I were greatly pleased at meeting with two of our townspeople, a Mr. and Mrs. Howard; and it delighted us still more to learn that they were to take passage with us for the North. They had been sojourning in Cuba for a number of months, but were now anxious to go home, as the yellow fever season had arrived and there were already many cases of it in the city.
"Although Captain Allen was in high spirits at having made such a profitable voyage, he felt some uneasiness at the idea of sailing with so much money on board. The pirates, he said, had their spies in all the Cuban ports, and these secret agents, by watching the run of trade, could easily determine what vessels were likely to offer the most tempting booty.
"At length, all being ready, and Mr. and Mrs. Howard coming off to us, we hove up our anchor and made sail. The greatest danger, Captain Allen believed, would be close off the port, and so he had given out that we should probably remain three or four days longer. It may have been thiswhich saved us from being molested at the start, and I think it was.
"But now an unexpected misfortune came upon us. We sailed with the land breeze very early in the morning, and while we were getting under way one of our crew was taken down with the yellow fever. We were only a few miles clear of the land when another was attacked in the same manner, and before night the cook and second mate also took to their berths. We kept on, however, and indeed the course of the wind would have prevented us from returning had we thought of doing so.
"There remained, capable of doing duty, only the captain and chief mate, one old seaman, Argo, and myself; but Captain Allen said that should no more of us be disabled, the vessel could still be managed. As a last resort, he added, he might put into Havana or Key West.
"On the second day we passed that famous resort of the West Indian pirates, the Isle of Pines. TheAgenoragave it a wide berth, I assure you; but our hearts were in our throats for the whole fifty miles of its coast line. It seemed as if the breeze were all the time threatening to die out and leave us becalmed there. However, we ran the gantlet in safety, and continued our course toward Cape St. Antonio, the most western point of Cuba.
"During the following night, the chief mate and the remaining seaman were both stricken with the fever, leaving only the captain and us two boys, together with our passenger, Mr. Howard, to handle the brig, with six dreadfully sick people on board.
"This was a sad state of things; but the breeze was bright and fair, and we hoped to double Cape St. Antonio the next day, thus getting to the northward of Cuba, after which it would be easy to reach Havana.
"On that day, however, it fell entirely calm, with a dense fog covering the sea, so that the vessel lay idle, heading by turns all around the compass.
"We had by this time nearly come up with the cape, and it was a bad place to meet with a calm, for this headland was a notorious piratical rendezvous, almost as much so as the Isle of Pines. However, if we must lie helpless, the fog would be in our favor, the captain said.
"In the meantime Mrs. Howard showed herself an extraordinary woman. She was only twenty-four years old—a mere girl, as it were, and a very beautiful one—but she seemed as if she knew just what to do and how to do it. She cooked for us who were well, and, in spite of her husband's remonstrances, braved all the danger of attending upon the sick, like a veritable Florence Nightingale.
"After lasting for about twenty-four hours the fog disappeared and a light breeze sprang up. A current had taken us along for some miles, and we were directly off Cape St. Antonio.
"At first no water craft of any description was to be seen, but presently we were startled at perceiving a small sloop-rigged vessel putting out from the land and making directly toward us. That she must be a pirate was beyond all question, as no other vessel would have been hiding in such a place.
"Looking through his glass, the captain saw that, in addition to her sails, she had out a number of long sweeps, or oars, and this at once told us that there was no possibility of escaping from her with the faint breeze which we had.
"TheAgenoracarried two six-pounders and a good supply of small arms, yet, with only four of us to handle them, they offered but a forlorn hope against thirty or forty men, with probably a heavy pivot gun and other cannon. Nevertheless, there was but one thing to do, and that was to fight to the death if necessary.
"'My poor wife!' we heard Mr. Howard say to the captain; 'she shall never fall into the hands of those wretches while I have a single breath remaining.'
"Captain Allen was pale, but very cool. He and Mr. Howard loaded the six-pounders, while we boys attended the muskets, putting heavy charges into all of them.
"In a short time we were able to count the sweeps which the sloop had out. They were fourteen in number—seven on a side, with two men at each. This made twenty-eight men, besides the fellow at the tiller and six or seven others; so that there were at least thirty-five of them. The only cannon that we could see was one mounted amidships, and no doubt on a pivot.
"As they got nearer we brought theAgenoraaround so that both the six-pounders would bear upon them, and then Captain Allen sighted one of the guns, while Mr. Howard stood by with a glowing portfire, ready to clap it upon the priming at the word.
"'Now,' said the captain presently, 'let it go!'
"Instantly there was a deafening bang! and the recoil of the gun fairly shook the brig. How we watched for the result! Skip, skip, skip, went the shot from wave to wave, close to the sloop, yet without touching her.
"Almost before we could speak or think, a sheet of smoke burst from the pirate vessel, and 'pat, pat, pat,' right on board of us, came a charge of grape shot, and a twelve-pound ball—as we found afterward it must have been, from the hole it made in our bulwarks.
"There was no time to lose, and our second cannon was fired as quickly as possible; but its contents missed the pirate, though they struck near enough to throw a shower of spray upon her deck.
"Again the miscreants fired in return, and redoubled their labor at the sweeps. The breeze was at last wholly gone, so that they had to depend entirely upon their strength of muscle, but of this they had enough and to spare.
"Argo and myself now opened fire with the muskets—'bang, bang, bang!' but I don't think we hit a single one of the villains. We saw them loading their big gun for a third shot, and it seemed as if, at such short range, they must tear us all to pieces. But Captain Allen and Mr. Howard were also loading—cramming one of the six-pounders to the muzzle with grape and cannon balls.
"The pirates were just ready to fire as the captain ranged along his gun.
"'Quick, Mr. Howard!' he cried. 'Touch her off!'
"The report rang through our ears, and we could have shouted as we saw the effect. The sloop's long gun was tumbled over, and the men who managed it strewn mangled upon the deck. A number of the heavy sweeps dropped from the hands that held them, or were sent whirling into the air.I think this one discharge must have killed more than a dozen men.
"For a few moments the victory appeared to be won; but just then theAgenoraswung around in such a manner that neither of the cannons could be made to bear upon the enemy. The pirates saw our dilemma, and a few powerful strokes of their sweeps brought them right under our bow.
"We ran forward to prevent them from boarding, but they swarmed over the bowsprit and head rail, cutlass in hand, till it was plain that two men and two boys were to be no match for such a number of desperate villains. In spite of all we could do, they were in a fair way to make short work with us, when on a sudden the scene was changed.
"Mrs. Howard had anticipated such an emergency from the very first, and now, with a ladle in one hand and a kettle of boiling hot tar in the other, she ran to our relief.
"The tar in such a state could be dipped up as easily as water, and in a quarter of a minute all the headmost pirates had got it full in their faces. Filling their eyes and mouths, or running down their half-naked breasts, it must have put them in great agony. They went tumbling back upon those behind them, and as we quickly followed up our advantage, the deck was almost instantly cleared.
"In a few minutes the sloop was making all possible speed away from us, but she had out only six sweeps instead of the fourteen with which she had commenced the chase.
"All of us except Mrs. Howard had been more or less wounded, so that we did not attempt to molest the pirates as they retreated; while on their part, as the cannon we had knocked over for them was their only one, they could not fire upon us. I think they must have had nearly twenty men killed or disabled, to say nothing of those who were scalded by the hot tar.
"I shall never forget how carefully Mrs. Howard bound up the ugly cuts in our arms. She seemed to know everything, just like one's own mother—and yet she was such a young woman!
"We got a breeze soon after the fight was over, and were thankful for it, too, as we did not know how many more pirates there might be in the neighborhood. It took us around Cape St. Antonio, and two days later we arrived at Key West, where we were put into quarantine.
"Of our yellow-fever patients, two died just as we dropped anchor, but the remaining four soon after began to improve and finally recovered. We lay in quarantine for a number of weeks, and then, with the vessel thoroughly fumigated, were permitted to sail for home.
"Upon our arrival there, the good oldAgenorabecame an object of much curiosity, while as to Mrs. Howard, she was visited by a host of friends, anxious to hear the story of our peril from her own lips.
"I am sometimes asked if in all my seafaring life it was ever my fortune to meet with a real pirate—one whom I knew to be such. To that question I think myself justified in saying 'yes'—and further, that it was an experience which I never desired to repeat."
The occurrence of a death in a Filipino family in Bulacan is the signal for an immediate celebration. "Our brother has gone to a happy land, and we must rejoice," they say. Relatives and friends are invited to come, and an orchestra is summoned. Then the dancing and feasting begin, and continue until the time of the funeral, which in this climate takes place within twenty-four hours.
Those who have the means buy a black cloth-covered casket ornamented with spangles and bows of bright blue ribbon. The poor rent the "town coffin," a plain tin box, evidently designed for those of medium stature, for a year or two ago, in a funeral procession, the feet of the deceased, incased in bright blue plush chinelas, were seen sticking out at one end.
The orchestra heads the procession through the streets, usually playing some lively air learned from the American soldiers. The popular funeral music is "A Hot Time," and it keeps the procession moving at a brisk pace.
Thursday is the favorite day for weddings in Bulacan, as it is "bargain day" in the matrimonial market. On Thursdays the priest marries many couples at a time, and consequently at less expense to each couple. Four o'clock in the morning is the favorite hour. Following the ceremony the newly married pair return to the bride's home, where dancing and feasting ensue till sundown.
A bride to whose wedding feast some Americans were invited had a romantic prelude to her nuptials. The parents of the bride were strenuously opposed to the match, owing to a strong disinclination on the part of the groom to do any sort of labor. So Anastasia was sent up into the mountains to visit among relatives, and traces of her whereabouts were carefully concealed from Felicidad, the groom elect.
But Felicidad, although too indolent to support his prospective bride, did not purpose that another should win her, so he summoned several faithful friends to his aid and began an active search. His devotion was rewarded with success, and three weeks later Felicidad returned in triumph, with radiant Anastasia borne aloft on the shoulders of two of his trusty friends.
The following Thursday, in company with fifteen other happy couples, they were married.
Mr. Gordon Boles, a sportsman who has hunted all over the world, has recorded some remarkable leaps taken by deer when pursued. His observations have been chiefly in his native district, Exmoor, the land of "Lorna Doone," in India, and in Northwestern Canada. Uncontrollable fear and partial blindness caused by long pursuit, he gives as reasons for deer taking leaps which usually end in death. Once, while hunting with the Devon and Somerset stag hounds, he saw a hind leap 300 feet from a cliff to the seashore. She was dashed to pieces. In the excitement of the chase one of the hounds followed her.
On another occasion a stag made a bold burst for the open, going straight for the sea. He came to the edge of a cliff, some hundreds of feet above the beach, and then dashed restlessly backward and forward, as if seeking a path to descend.
He either missed his footing or jumped, and when the hunters came up he was seen below, a shattered mass, with the horns broken into small pieces. Mr. Boles is inclined to think that the stag committed suicide deliberately.
Another deer, which made the leap at about the same place, landed safely and swam out to sea. Men pursued him in a boat and killed him.
In India Mr. Boles wounded a sambur, which resembles somewhat the common deer. The sambur showed fight on a narrow path overhanging a precipice. Mr. Boles fired again, but in his excitement aimed too low, the ball passing beneath the deer and striking the ground just back of his hind legs. The deer turned and deliberately leaped over the height.
A fine buck he wounded in Northwestern Canada, when pursued by the dog, jumped from a height of 100 feet into a shallow stream and broke his neck.