"Never mind me, Clancy," sang out Hill, who had come to the surface, and was swimming easily despite the weight of the wet clothing he had on. "Burton is purty nigh tuckered. Take care o' him first."
Burton was a splendid swimmer, there was no doubt about that, but his ordeal in the water had told on him severely. He grabbed Clancy's outstretched hand desparingly, and was assisted to climb over the bulwarks. Once aboard, he fell in a sprawl on the boat's bottom, breathing heavily.
Hiram Hill got into the boat much more easily. Lifting his dripping body to a seat, he grinned, and shook the long, tow-colored hair back from his face.
"How was that for Hi?" he asked.
"It was a great piece of work!" Clancy answered admiringly. "You're certainly there with the goods when it comes to swimming. I thought, for a time, that both you and Burton would be drowned. We could have got him just as easily, Hiram, if you hadn't gone into the water."
"I wanted to make sure, that was all."
"Boltwood," called Clancy, "put us all ashore on the rocks at the foot of Old Sugarloaf. We'll bask in the sun, for a while, and I'll talk a little with Burton, We're old friends, you know," and here Clancy smiled. "The last person in the world I was expecting to see through the glass bottom of that boat was Hank Burton. It was the surprise of my life, and no mistake."
There was something here which Mynie Boltwood could not understand. He was not ambitious in the acquirement of knowledge, however, and merely did as he was told–and let it go at that.
Burton sat up in the boat's bottom, and peered at Clancy.
"Feeling better, Hank?" the motor wizard inquired pleasantly.
"What're you and Hill doing here?" inquired Burton confusedly. "We reckoned you were in San Diego."
"Oh, you did!" returned Clancy. "You must know something about that letter Hiram received, inviting him to hang up his hat in Q Street and feel at home."
Burton, realizing that he had said something he hadn't ought to, bit his lip angrily.
"How'd you happen to come to Catalina?" he went on.
"The Happy Trail branched in this direction."
"Eh?"
"Well," Clancy laughed, "Hiram came to Catalina to find his father, and I'm helping in the search. We've got a few things to discuss, Hank, and I think we'll do the chinning ashore."
By that time the boat was grounded among the rocks close to the foot of Old Sugarloaf.
"I haven't got a thing to discuss with you," snarled Burton, "and I'm not goin' ashore."
"Sure you are!" declared Clancy. "You'd a heap rather go ashore and talk matters over with Hiram and me than go to jail. Wouldn't you, now?"
Fire snapped in the motor wizard's eyes, and his voice, although it was like velvet, cut like steel. Burton saw there was no use trying to hang back.
"If Wynn hadn't made me work for a little money," growled Burton, "this wouldn't 'a' happened."
"What's that?"
"Nothing."
Boltwood had jumped to the rocks, and was holding the boat by the painter. Hill followed him out of the craft, and now Burton followed Hill. Clancy was last to leave the boat. He walked up toward the base of Sugarloaf Rock.
"Boltwood," he called, "you stay there and take care of the boat. Burton, you and Hill come up here with me."
The excitement that had claimed the passengers in Ike's boat had been missed by the other boats. The rest of the glass-bottom fleet had gone around Sugarloaf Rock, and Clancy was now able to look across the low rise of rocks, separating the headland from the shore, and see the other sight-seers.
"Hill and I came over here to find Hill's father," said Clancy, turning to Burton, "and we find you. That strikes me as being mighty strange, Hank. What are you and Gerald Wynn and Bob Katz doing here?"
"Who said Gerald and Bob were with me?" returned Burton sullenly.
"You said something before we got out of the boat which proved to me that Gerald Wynn was here with you. And, if Gerald is here, Katz is along, too. Why are you in this place?"
Burton did not answer.
"Why did one of you write that letter to Hill and try to get him to San Diego?"
Still nothing from Burton.
"Did you fellows bring the fifteen thousand with you?"
Clancy's voice was sharp as he put this question.
"It must be clear to you," returned Burton, "that I haven't any of that fifteen thousand. If I had, do you think I'd be divin' for quarters?"
The motor wizard seated himself on a bowlder. The sun was hot, but a cool breeze from the sea tempered its warmth. As he stared at the stubborn face of Burton, his eyes hardened.
"Hank," he went on, "I haven't any cause to love you, or Gerald Wynn, or Bob Katz. One of you put a bullet into my shoulder, at the old adobe near Wickenburg. The three of you, also, made off with fifteen thousand dollars belonging to me and to Lafe Wynn. Now I can put you through for all that, and put you through good and hard. Even if I can't get hands on Gerald and Katz, I've got you securely. Do you want to save yourself, or don't you?"
"Save myself? How?"
"Why, by helping me get back that stolen money. Tell us where Gerald Wynn and Katz are hiding themselves, where the money is, and how we're to get hold of it."
"Think I'm a squealer?" demanded Burton indignantly.
"Where are your clothes?" Clancy asked.
"Boltwood knows."
The motor wizard walked down to the water's edge.
"Boltwood," said he, "I want you to go and get Burton's clothes. Also get from Ike the clothes belonging to Hill and me. Bring them back here. And–listen! Don't say a word to anybody about what happened. Understand?"
"I don't know what's happened, or what's goin' on now," answered Boltwood, "so how can I talk?"
"Just remember that, then. Here's a five-dollar gold piece for you. Do as I tell you and you'll be all right. Do something else, and you'll find yourself in more trouble than Burton is in."
"I'm no fool, I guess," mumbled Boltwood, pouching the gold piece. "I don't pry into things that ain't my business. I'll row across and get the clothes."
He sprang into the boat, pushed off, and began using the oars vigorously. The motor wizard turned thoughtfully and walked back to the place where he had left Hill and Burton.
Hank Burton had issued his defiance. He was not a "squeeler," but he was apprehensive regarding Clancy's next move.
"What're you goin' to do?" he asked.
"I'm sending for your clothes," was the reply.
"Then what?"
"Why, then I'll find some place where I can make a complaint against you. You think more of your pals liberty than you do of your own. But that's your lookout, not mine. If you want to go to jail and leave Gerald Wynn and Bob Katz free to spend that fifteen thousand, why, have it that way."
Clancy's tone was relentless. Burton knew enough of the motor wizard to understand that he would do what he said he would.
The chap in the bathing suit walked back and forth among the rocks for a few moments, then, finally, he flung up his hands helplessly and halted in front of Clancy.
"You've got the whip hand, as usual," said he, with a tinge of bitterness. "I'll exchange what I know for my liberty. What am I to tell you?"
CHAPTER VIII.
TREACHERY THAT SUCCEEDED–AND FAILED.
The motor wizard congratulated himself, for a moment, that he had won Hank Burton over to his side in the argument. But only for a moment. Even as Clancy was getting ready to frame his first question, Burton took to his heels and ran like a deer toward the other side of Sugarloaf Rock.
On that side, three persons had landed in a small boat. They had secured their boat by twisting the painter around a rock, and were now climbing Old Sugarloaf.
Burton must have seen this landing party while walking back and forth and turning Clancy's proposition over in his mind. He had gained a little time by seeming to fall in with Clancy's desires, but now the mask was dropped.
"Consarn the critter!" whooped Hiram. "Stop him, Clancy, stop him!"
This is exactly what Clancy was trying to do, but the feat was physically impossible. Burton had too long a lead.
Snatching the painter from the rock, the fleeing rascal sprang into the boat, picked up the oars and was twenty feet from shore before Clancy and Hill came to the water's edge.
"Guess again!" taunted Burton, applying himself vigorously to the oars.
"This island ain't so big!" shouted Hiram furiously. "The steamer for San Pedro has gone, and there's no other boat for the mainland until to-morrow. You ain't out o' this yet, Hank Burton!"
What Burton thought regarding this did not appear. He put all his energy into his rowing and was soon halfway across the bay.
"If we'd toted a popper," bewailed Hiram, "this couldn't have happened.
"Popper?" questioned Clancy.
"Meanin' gun. With a six-shooter we could have drawn a bead on Mister Man in the boat and fetched him ashore. Blame it! I sure hate to see him get away after bein' to so much trouble ketchin' him."
The motor wizard felt in the same way, but there was no use crying over spilled milk. Mynie Boltwood got back from the other side of the bay with a load of clothes, and Hill removed his wet garments, wrung them out, dried them in the sun, and was soon back in his complete wardrobe, and but little the worse for his drenching.
Clancy, hoping to develop something in the nature of a clew, searched the pockets of Burton's clothes. He found nothing to repay his search.
"Now," inquired Hill gloomily, "what's the next step?"
"We came here to find your father, Hiram," Clancy answered, "and suddenly got switched off into another trail. Now we'll get back to the work that originally brought us to the island."
"And let that bunch o' grafters go?"
"I don't see what we can do, at present."
"We can set the police on their trail."
Clancy shook his head. "That won't do, Hiram," he answered. "I made a crack of that kind at Burton, but it was only a bluff. The moment we ring in the police, that moment we lift the veil on Lafe Wynn. Lafe must be protected at any cost. If we could get back the money by our own efforts, that would be all right. What we've got to avoid is making this thing too public. We'll return to the curio store and see if Lopez has got back from the other side of the island."
Mynie Boltwood displayed little curiosity regarding Burton. The five-dollar gold piece had evidently blinded him, muzzled him, and tied up his ears. He rowed Clancy and Hill back to the pier, and they left the boat and proceeded to the establishment of Jack Lopez.
Lopez looked a good deal like a man who might deal in dazzling futures, taking care that all the profit came to himself. He was swarthy and good-natured, but with a crafty eye.
"The Fortunatus Syndicate?" he said, with an airy laugh. "Gentlemen, it is gone–as you say–where the woodbine twineth. Yes, for two years past. The concession was granted by Diaz for a great 'plant' dedicated to the god of luck at Tia Juana, but–well, Diaz went out and some one else came in. Down below the border, nothing remains as it was for long. It took–what you call–too much money to grease the wheels. The Syndicate dropped one hundred thousand dollars, and thought that was plenty. No, no, you can not invest in Fortunatus, for there is no Fortunatus."
"This is your card, isn't it?" inquired Clancy, offering for inspection the card found wider the sweatband of the Stetson.
"Why,si!I used that card at the time the Tia Juana matter looked very bright and promising. Now, though, I use the card no more."
"Did you ever see a feller like this?" put in Hiram, handing over the photograph of his father.
Lopez looked at the photograph, started, took it in his hands, and gave it a more careful scrutiny.
"As I live," said he, "it is the picture of my good friend, Captain Hogan, of the steam yachtSylvia.Look!" and Lopez lifted and leveled a forefinger.
They were standing in front of the curio store, and the stores all along that street overlooked the bay. Lopez indicated a trim-looking craft, painted white, and with the sun striking gleams from dazzling brasswork, floating at anchor far from the shore line.
"That," continued Lopez, "is my good friend's boat. Her home port is San Diego, and she can be chartered by any one with the price. Hogan is at the island for a few days, looking for customers."
Disappointment struck heavily at Hiram Hill's heart and was reflected in his face.
"You say his name is Hogan?" he asked.
"Yes."
"What's time whole of his handle?"
"Uriah Hogan. Strange you do not know, since you have his picture."
"There's a whole lot o' things I don't know," answered Hiram, "and am just beginnin' to find out. Was Cap'n Hogan over to Los Angeles last Saturday?"
"He was. He has told me about it. He returned to the island Sunday."
"Do you happen to know where I can find him?"
"Why, yes. In the quarter of the town called Buena Vista, there is a bungalow called the Rest a While. There Captain Hogan stays whenever he is in Avalon."
This ended the talk with Señor J. Lopez. Clancy took his friend by the arm and walked with him to the restaurant where they had had their dinner.
"Ain't this the limit?" queried Hill plaintively. "Nothin' goes right for us, Clancy."
"Well don't fret about it," returned the motor wizard.
"Order up a good meal and try and be happy."
They sent in a generous order. Hill, however, could not get the hard luck out of his mind. He continued to air the state of his feelings while the order was being made ready.
"This Cap'n Hogan is a dead ringer for dad. Him and dad couldn't look more alike if they had been twins. And then, Clancy, them initials in his Stetson–'U. H.' I reckoned that made a cinch of this here trail I'm follerin'. But, no. 'Stead o' standin' for 'Upton Hill,' them letters in the Stetson meant 'Uriah Hogan.' Never before has fate played it so low down on me as that."
"We have certainly blundered into some remarkable coincidences," agreed Clancy.
A man with red hair, who sat, at their table, cocked up his ear as Hill shook out his opinions.
"Hogan?" said he, leaning forward; "did I hear you mention Smuggler Hogan, of theSylvia?"
"I called him Uriah Hogan," said Hill.
"It's all one and the same. Hogan's bad medicine." The man surveyed Clancy with an approving eye. "Maybe I shouldn't say anything about this," he continued, "but your hair's the same color as mine, and I always make it a point to pass valuable information along to a fellow bricktop. Beware of Hogan! What's the fellow doing with that boat of his? Some say he's smuggling arms into Lower California, for the use of the revolutionists, and some say he's running chinks and opium–both contraband goods–into the United States. Cap'n Hogan is not in these waters for any good, take it from me."
The red-headed man finished with an ominous look, and then with great politeness requested Hill to pass the salt.
"Hogan, I hear," the loquacious stranger continued presently, "charters that boat of his to the unsuspecting. He does it for a blind–nothing else. Now, if you gents want a trip up or down the coast, as far north as San Fran, or as far down as the Horn. I've got just the thing–slickest little schooner with steam auxiliary you ever put eyes on."
A light broke over Clancy. Maybe Captain Hogan wasn't such bad medicine, after all. This rival ship owner might be giving him a bad character–for business purposes.
"We're not intending to charter any boat." said Clancy.
"No harm done, anyway," said the red-haired person. "I've given you a straight tip about Hogan, though, and you can bank on it."
"Much obliged," returned Clancy.
A little later he and Hill got up from the table, settled their bill, and left the restaurant.
"How about takin' a walk?" Hill asked. "The way that red-headed chap throwed me into the man I thought was dad, kinder made me feverish."
"All right," agreed the motor wizard cheerfully, "we'll walk. It's always a good thing to walk a mile or so after you've had your supper."
They strolled down the main street, Clancy doing his best to cheer up his melancholy companion. Presently they turned a corner and started along a thoroughfare that was bordered on both sides with eucalyptus trees. A figure stepped suddenly out of the black shadow of one of the trees and posted itself in front of Clancy, barring his path.
"Owen Clancy?" the figure asked.
"Yes," Clancy answered, thinking the voice sounded rather familiar.
"Well, I'm back again, and—"
"Burton!" the motor wizard exclaimed.
"Yes, Burton," the other returned. "I've had it rubbed into me by Gerald Wynn and Bob Katz till I reckon I can't stand it no longer. I'm ready to help you, now, and this time I mean it."
"What's happened to cause this great change, Burton?" Clancy asked skeptically.
"Wynn and Katz are trying to beat me out of my share of the fifteen thousand," was the reply. "If I help you, Clancy, maybe, between us, we can beat out the pair of them. What do you say?"
CHAPTER IX.
A SPLIT IN THE GANG.
Clancy had no confidence whatever in Burton.
"I'm willing to hear what you've got to say, Burton," he said, "but whether I believe you or not, is another question."
"You'll believe me, fast enough," was the confident response. "Down the street, a little way, is a place where we can talk."
They walked down the street to a bench. The bench was in an obscure place, and the gloom of the eucalyptus trees surrounded it. Here, after they had seated themselves, Burton began his remarks.
"I've been treated like a dip by Wynn and Katz," said he, "and I'm going to be square with you, Clancy, just to get even with them. When we lifted the fifteen thousand, at the time you were shot, we laid a bee line for Los Angeles. We've been there ever since, up to last Sunday morning. Gerald was bughouse on a gambling proposition, across the Mexican line. He heard of a stockholder he could buy out for fifteen thousand dollars, and that's what set him to working his brother for the money, in the first place.
"Well, he was as close-fisted with that dinero as any miser you ever saw. I didn't have a cent in my pocket, and Gerald wouldn't give me any cash. He paid my expenses, but that was all.
"Last Saturday he saw that mix-up at Sixth and Main, in Los Angeles, and he got the idea that Hill was trailing him. Of course, Gerald knows all about Hill's search for his lost father—"
"Of course he does!" grunted Hiram. "There's a reason for that."
"And he conceived the notion of sending Hill a letter and signing the name of Upton Hill to it," went on Burton. "The idea was to get Hill off of our trail, and we all reckoned the scheme had won out. I didn't know, until I looked up into the glass bottom of that boat, that Hill was within a hundred miles of Catalina Island! And I thought Clancy was still in Phoenix! Say, it was sure a big surprise to me."
"That's what I reckoned," remarked Hill, with a chuckle.
"I used to be swimming instructor in a gymnasium," proceeded Burton, "and as soon as we reached Avalon I made a deal with Mynie Boltwood, who owns a boat, and we took to snorkin' the tourists. Gerald was still the tightwad, and I couldn't live on prospects, no matter how rosy they might be. Sunday afternoon, while I was out diving, Gerald and Bob called on Lopez. I get it straight, from a fellow who knows, that Lopez told them the Fortunatus deal had fallen through. Right then and there is where those two skunks began to scheme to beat me out of my share of the swag we brought from Wickenburg."
Burton fell silent for a moment, evidently reflecting on the great wrong that had been done him by his former pals. At last he resumed:
"Wynn and Katz chartered theSylviato take them down the coast. I was told that by Lopez, and I reckon he got it from Captain Hogan. Lopez–I saw him no more than half an hour ago–says Wynn and Katz are planning to cut loose from me, I've been a fool all along to let those two do all the schemin' and never put in my oar. But now I'm going to get busy."
"You saw Lopez pretty soon after you gave us the slip at Sugarloaf Rock?" Clancy asked.
"Quite a long time after that. I laid low in town until Mynie Boltwood brought me my clothes. You see, I was expecting every minute you'd have an officer on my trail, so I didn't stir around very much."
"Lopez is a friend of yours?"
"He's treated me white when he saw how I was being double-crossed by fellows I thought were my pards. Now, Clancy, here's a plan I've thought of: From all I can find out, Wynn and Katz haven't an idea you and Hill are up Avalon. Suppose we three go to their hang-out and jump them? We can do it, and recover the money. We'll have to be quick, though, and pull off the work before they leave in theSylvia."
"Where are Gerald Wynn and Bob Katz?"
"Lopez says they're staying at Hogan's bungalow. I know where that is. Will you go?"
Clancy hesitated.
"You're afraid I'm working some underhand scheme, eh?" said Burton. "Well, forget it. All I want in this world is to break even with Wynn and Katz. Don't you believe what I've been telling you?"
"You're a slippery customer," answered Clancy, "and you may be lying for the purpose of getting Hill and me into hot water."
"Nothing to it. I tell you I'm square with you."
"Let's try him once, Clancy," suggested Hill. "If it turns out to be a frame-up, Burton will be with us, and we can hand him a sample of our regards."
"Very well," said the motor wizard. "Lead the way, Burton."
Burton moved down the walk to the first cross street, proceeded halfway along the block, and halted in front of a small bungalow with a deep porch.
"Here's where Captain Hogan stays when he's in Avalon and ashore," remarked Burton, in a guarded tone.
"Can't see any light," murmured Hill. "Looks like the place was empty."
"I should say, at a guess," put in Clancy, "that the captain is not at home. He may be aboard theSylvia."
"We're not looking for Hogan, but for Wynn and Katz," continued Burton. "I'll not leave this place until I investigate a bit."
He began climbing the steps that led to the porch. Clancy was still very distrustful of Burton, and watched warily while following the fellow to the front door of the house.
Burton seemed straight enough. With a soft hand he tried the door, and discovered it to be locked. Moving thence to a window that opened upon the porch, he tried to raise the lower sash. It was secured.
"Maybe I can open the sash lock," he whispered to Clancy. "If it's the ordinary kind, a knife will do the trick."
He took a jackknife from his pocket, opened a blade, thrust it upward between the upper and lower sash, and maneuvered for a minute or two. Finally he gave vent to a muttered word of satisfaction, closed the knife, and slipped it into his pocket.
"Here's a little luck," said he. "We can open the window now."
Noiselessly the lower sash was lifted, and the way into the bungalow was open.
"You can stay here," whispered Burton, "or you can go with me. If you're afraid to trust me, I can look around and report what I find."
"I'll go with you," returned Clancy. "I don't want to take your report about what you find, I want to see for myself."
As carefully as possible they crawled through the window, and while they stood in the dark room at the front of the house. Hiram came through the opening and joined them.
A noise reached their ears, as of heavy breathing. Hill caught Clancy's arm in a convulsive clutch.
"There's some one in the place, all right!" said Burton, under his breath.
"Strike a light," suggested the motor wizard. "I believe it's safe enough."
"Here, let me," put in Hiram. "I've got a match right in my fingers."
He scraped the match on the wall. As a flicker of light blazed up, a small, meagerly furnished front room was disclosed. Neither Captain Hogan nor either of those who had chartered his boat could be seen.
Clancy stepped to a shelf on the side wall, and took down a candle in a candlestick. Hill touched the match to the wick, and the investigation continued under a better light.
There was a door opening off the rear of the room. Burton glided to it and carefully pushed it ajar. Stygian darkness reigned beyond.
The opening of the rear door had caused the heavy breathing to grow louder. The man–evidently the only one they were to find in the bungalow–must be in that back room. Clancy, with the candle, pushed into the lead, and entered the next apartment.
Hill was watching Burton as keenly as a cat watches a mouse. At the first sign of a treacherous move, or the springing a trap, Hill would have been at Burton in a flash.
Nothing occurred, however, to alarm the investigators. Something was discovered, on the other hand, which certainly, astounded them.
A figure was lying on a cot bed–a figure that was bound wrist and ankle. A towel was tied over the face of the helpless form, and from behind this towel came the labored breathing which had already attracted attention.
The candle revealed the gruesome situation dimly. There seemed no longer any good reason for silence, and startled exclamations dropped from the lips of the three investigators.
"Black work has been going on here!" growled Burton.
"Wonder if that's Hogan?" queried Clancy.
"Whoever it is," spoke up Hill, "if that towel ain't removed he'll soon be smothered to death."
As he spoke, he hastened to the head of the bed, turned the form slightly so he could untie the ends of the towel, and presently removed the suffocating gag. As the head of the bound man fell back on the pillow of the bed, his face was brought clearly into the full light of the candle.
"By thunder!" gasped Clancy, startled.
"What do you think of that?" murmured the bewildered Burton.
"Katz, or I'm a Hottentot!" whispered Hill.
There followed a few moments of silence, during which the three at the cotside exchanged wondering glances. Here was a situation which seemed incomprehensible to all of them.
Katz's eyes were closed, and the breath came and went stertorously between his bloated lips. His face was puffed and of a purplish hue.
"What's the matter with him?" queried Burton.
"He came within one of being suffocated, that's all," Clancy answered. "Get the ropes off his hands and feet, so he'll be more comfortable. I don't think it will be long before he opens his eyes."
The motor wizard was right. Hardly had Katz been freed of the ropes when his eyelids flickered wide open. He stared up dazedly into the faces bending over him.
"Wynn!" he exclaimed, his wits wandering. "You're double-crossin' me, eh, same as we double-crossed Burton? You and Hogan are going to make off with the swag! Well, it won't do you no good, you can gamble on that. You'll be sorry you did this–some day–and—"
Here his voice trailed off into incoherent mumbling. It was quite evident that there had been a bad "split" in the gang.
CHAPTER X.
PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT.
Burton's eyes glimmered as he listened to these wandering words from the lips of his treacherous friend.
"He got a dose of the same medicine he helped give me!" he said. "Serves him right. Gerald Wynn is a yellow dog! He turned against me, and then he hitched up with Captain Hogan and the two turned on Katz. Wish I knew just how it all happened."
"Bring some water," said Clancy, "and perhaps we can help Katz recover his wits. He's half delirious now."
Burton found some cool water, and brought a basin of it. The bloated, purplish face of Katz was bathed, his limbs were rubbed, and gradually his condition, physical and mental, became more normal. He peered at Burton with blinking eyes.
"Thank you, Hank?" he asked.
"Yes, it's Hank." was the taunting response. "How do you like bein' double-crossed? You and Wynn put the kibosh on me, and here you've got a taste of it yourself."
"Wynn's a coyote!" snarled Katz.
"He's not the only one."
"What took place here?" struck in Clancy, seeking to direct the talk into more profitable channels.
A shiver convulsed the form of Katz. Slowly his eyes turned to Clancy, and grew round with astonishment.
"That red-headed motor wizard!" he breathed. "However did you get here?"
"I'm here, and that's enough," said Clancy.
"He came on from Phoenix because I wired him to," put in Hill. "He's helpin' me locate my father."
"It was Clancy's judgment, I'll bet," observed Burton, "that kept you from going to San Diego?"
"Now you are shouting. I was bound to go there, but Chancy held me back and steered me toward Catalina island."
Katz's eyes passed from Clancy to Hill. Slowly the wonder died out of them, and a grim expression crossed his face.
"You're the clever boy, all right, Clancy," said Katz, "but Wynn is too many for you. He's bit it off with Hogan, who owns the steam yachtSylvia,and they're off for down the coast with all the money. After we cut you out, Burton, Wynn and I had divided. I had seventy-five hundred, all in the long green, in that dinky satchel of mine, when I came to this wikiup to join Wynn and Hogan. Them two were layin' for me. The minute I stepped in at the door they bowled me over. I went down like a log, and when I came to myself I was lyin' on this bed, lashed hand and foot, and with a towel tied so tight over my face that I could hardly breathe.
"Hogan and Wynn were in the room, and they just laughed at me. 'You're easier'n Burton was,' Wynn says. 'Hogan and I are leavin' the harbor to-night,' he says, 'and we're takin' the hull fifteen thousand with us. Good night, and happy dreams, Katz,' he winds up, then puts out the light, locks the front door, and leaves me to strangle to death." Katz turned his head and spat contemptuously. "That's the sort, of a jigger this Wynn is," he finished.
"You're no better than he is," snapped Burton.
"If I could come within arm's reach o' him, by thunder, I'd show whether I'm better than he is, or not!" cried Katz, getting up with an effort and sitting on the edge of the cot.
"You say," said Clancy, speaking quickly, "that Hogan and Wynn are intending to get away in theSylviato-night?"
"I reckon they've already gone."
"Maybe not! There's a chance that theSylviais still in the harbor. Are you as anxious to get even with Wynn as Burton is, Katz?"
"Try me, that's all!" growled Katz, lifting his arms and working them back and forth to get the cramps out of them. "I'd like a chance to show Gerald Wynn just how I feel!"
"Then come with me! Perhaps we can head off Hogan and Wynn at the dock."
"No such luck. But look here oncet, Clancy. Are you intendin' to mix the police in this game o' muggins?"
"No," was the answer. "We'll handle it ourselves."
"And the idee is—"
"To recover, the fifteen thousand dollars,"
"Who gets it, after it's recovered?"
"I do. It belongs to Lafe Wynn and myself, doesn't it?"
This part of the arrangement, it was clear, did not please Katz. Clancy saw that, and his voice hardened and grew threatening.
"You're a plain thief, Katz! First thing you know, you'll get your just deserts and land in the Los Angeles jail. You can either come with the rest of us, or you can stay here. Suit yourself."
"When you talk in that tone of voice," returned Katz humbly, "I come on the run. Give your orders, Clancy and count on me to help carry 'em out."
"Where does Hogan keep the dinghy that carries him between theSylviaand the shore?" asked the motor wizard.
"I can show you. If theSylviais still in the harbor, and there's any one ashore from her, I can take you right to the place where the dinghy is tied up."
"That's where we want to go."
The entire party emerged from the bungalow, descended the steps to the street, and started forthwith for the water front. Katz led the way out upon the same pier at which Clancy and Hill had taken, the glass-bottom boat to view the marine gardens. Well out on the pier, they came to a halt, and swept their eyes over the dark waters of the bay.
"By cracky," said Katz, pointing, "theSylviaain't got away yet. There's her lights, if I'm not mistaken."
Probably thirty or forty boats, most of them small, were anchored in the bay. Each carried lights, and picking theSylvia'slights out from among the others was no easy matter.
"I guess you've got it right, Katz," said Clancy. "Unless the yacht changed her anchorage, that's about where she ought to be."
"We can tell to a certainty by goin' down to the floats and seein' if theSylvia'sdinghy is tied up at the pier."
"If the dinghy isn't there," spoke up Burton, "it wouldn't prove that theSylviawasn't still in the harbor. She may be at anchor, Katz, with no one ashore."
"Right-o," answered Katz. "On t'other hand, Burton, if theSylvia'sdinghy is at the pier, then it's a lead pipe that the yacht isn't far away. We'll go look."
They went down the stairs to the floats. There were several boats chained and locked to the floats, and among them was theSylvia'sdinghy. The dinghy, however, was not locked to the float post, and a pair of oars lay across the thwarts.
"She's here, by Jerry!" muttered Katz. "Hogan and Wynn haven't left us yet–not just yet! I allow they're whoopin' it up, some'r's, and are show gettin' out to the yacht."
"Maybe they're on theSylvia," said Burton, "and some of the crew's ashore."
"What diff'rence does it make who's ashore and who's on the yacht?"
"It makes a good deal," put in the motor wizard. "Two of our party will stay on the pier and watch this float to see who comes after the dinghy, and the other two will take the dinghy and go out to theSylvia.By making a move of that kind, we'll be able to land on Gerald Wynn, no matter whether he's ashore or on the boat."
"I'll watch this end o' the play," said Katz.
"No," objected Clancy, "you'll go with me to the yacht, Katz. Hill and Burton will stay here and keep an eye on the float."
"Well, you're the doctor," acquiesced Katz grumblingly. Clancy had divided the party so that he and Hill would each have a man to watch. Neither Katz nor Burton would have the same opportunity to be treacherous as they would have had if they had been left together.
The motor wizard fully believed that Hogan and Wynn were ashore, and that the dinghy was waiting to carry them to the yacht. He felt that he could trust Burton to be one to deal with Wynn much more safely than he could trust the more desperate Katz.
"Who'll do the rowin'?" queried Katz,
"You'd better do that, Katz," said Clancy. "My shoulder isn't in the right sort of condition for such work."
Katz was interested at once.
"What's the matter with your shoulder?" he asked.
"You ought to know. I'm pretty sure you're the one who put a bullet into it."
"I got an alibi for that," muttered Katz, stepping into the boat and adjusting the oars.
Clancy followed him.
"The idea is, Hill," said Clancy, "to get the money from Wynn. You and Burton may have a hard time of it if Hogan and Wynn are together. I can't tell you what to do, except to be careful and do the best you can. There'll be no dinghy for Wynn and Hogan to use, and I think you ought to have some success if you use your wits as well as your fists."
"If we get a chance, Clancy," answered Hill, "we'll either make good or know the reason why."
"All right, Katz," called the motor wizard softly. "Make as little noise as possible. If we can't get aboard theSylviawithout any one knowing it, we won't be able to get aboard at all."
"I sabe the burro, fast enough," answered Katz.
The fellow proved a good oarsman and there was scarcely a sound as he dropped and lifted the oars. As they picked their way through the fleet of harbor craft, coming closer and closer to the lights for which they had headed, they found out that they had located theSylviacorrectly. Her white, trim bulwarks suddenly loomed up like a ghost ship.
No one was on deck to hail the dinghy, and Katz brought the small boat to a stop under theSylvia'sside, and at the foot of a short ladder that was lashed to the rail.
Clancy laid hold of the ladder, and, with little noise, gained the deck. Some one started out from the shadow of a deck awning and stepped toward him.
"Is that you, Lewis?" the man asked.
Clancy's response was quick and to the point: With a tigerlike leap he gained the man's side and pressed both hands about his throat.
CHAPTER XI.
ABOARD THE "SYLVIA."
Clancy's shoulder received a hard wrench and a tingling pain shot through his arm. The man who had hailed him was of medium height and stocky build, and well muscled. Clancy was in no physical condition to keep up his end in such a set-to, and the result would probably have been disastrous had not Katz leaped over the side and taken a hand.
Katz, remembering the way his pal had treated him was as venomous as a rattlesnake. The motor wizard had all he could do to keep him from going too far, and seriously injuring the man. With very little commotion the fellow was overcome, gagged with a handkerchief, and tied with a rope which Clancy picked up on the deck.
This rough work finished, the two intruders stood breathlessly in the shadow of the awning, and waited and listened. They could hear a drone of voices forward. The monotonous sound kept going without a break, which seemed to prove that the slight noise aft had not been overheard.
"So far, so good," muttered Katz. "What next, Clancy?"
"Our next move is to look around and see who's aboard," was the reply.
"There's somebody in the cabin, that's a cinch, but I reckon this dub was the only other chap around the works. Like enough he was a watchman, or somethin'. What did he call you?"
"Lewis."
"Lewis is the engineer. If he saw you climb over the rail, and if he thought you was Lewis, then it's a safe guess that Lewis is one of the men who's ashore."
"That's right."
"If Lewis has shore leave, then I'll bet Hogan is on board."
"I think so–Hogan and Wynn."
"They're the two who are in the cabin, hey? It takes two to make a talk."
"We'll find out who's in the cabin."
There was a deck house amidships, with steps leading up from the afterdeck. Windows opening into the cabin were almost flush with the deck, and by kneeling down, Clancy and Katz could look into the small room below.
They found that they had been correct in their surmises. Wynn and Hogan sat facing each other on upholstered benches. A table was between them, and upon the table was a battered satchel of small dimensions. Katz reached for Clancy's arm and gave it a quick pressure.
"That's the grip with the money!" he whispered. "What's the reason we can't get hold of it?"
"We've got to get hold of it, somehow," returned Clancy. "Suppose you go aft and yell for Hogan? It's possible, Katz, that your call will take both Hogan and Wynn out of the cabin. That may give me a chance to duck down the companion and grab the satchel."
"It's worth tryin'," approved Katz. "Even if it don't win out, we can still end the thing in a fight. You got a shootin' iron?"
"No."
"Neither have I. Blamed if I don't feel kinder lost without one. I'll bet Hogan is heeled, and I know Wynn never goes without his artillery. We'll have to look sharp and be spry, Clancy, if things come to a show-down."
While Clancy watched the two in the cabin, he saw Wynn draw the satchel across the table, open it, and pull a packet of greenbacks from inside. He held up the packet, and laughed. Hogan joined in the laugh.
The motor wizard had a very good look at Captain Hogan, and he did not wonder that Hiram had been deceived into thinking the fellow was his father. The bulging brow, the huge nose, and the retreating chin all conspired to form a countenance that would have claimed attention anywhere. One eye had an evil squint, and it gave to the whole face a crafty expression.
Captain Hogan, it was clear, would never be hung for his good looks, although it would be too much to say that he might not, some time, be strung up for his evil deeds.
Wynn dropped the money into the satchel and sat back arm the bench. As usual, he was whiffing at a cigarette. Hogan was smoking a big black cigar.
Neither Clancy nor Katz was so situated that he could hear the conversation going forward between the two in the cabin. The voices sounded from below in considerable volume, but the words ran together in hollow echoes that baffled the ear.
"Go on, Katz," whispered Clancy. "We'll try that scheme. If Hogan leaves the cabin, I'll go down."
"Suppose Wynn stays with the money?"
"I guess I can take care of Wynn."
"Well, here's hopin'. I'd like to crack out a winnin', this play. Sit tight, now, and listen to the meller trill o' my bazoo."
The motor wizard remained at his post while Katz crept back to the after part of the boat. Then, suddenly, Katz opened up with a yell for "Hogan! Cap'n Hogan!"
Hogan leaped to his feet, all energy and curiosity in a moment. A startled look crossed Wynn's face, and was clearly visible in the rays of the swinging lamp. The captain jumped for the companion stairs, closely followed by Wynn. Clancy fell to wondering which side, of the deck house they'd travel on their way aft. If they came down his side, then the chances were good for a scrimmage instead of a dash into the cabin.
In the excitement of the moment, the satchel had been left entirely unprotected on the cabin table.
As luck would have it, Hogan and Wynn ran along the alley across from the one in which Clancy was lying. The time had now come for Clancy to act, and, without loss of a moment, he gained the companion, and made his way swiftly down the steep stairs.
He could hear a sound of husky voices and a tramp of quick feet from aft. What was going on, between the captain and Wynn, on one side, and Katz, on the other, was a mystery. Clancy did not waste time in any guessing, but grabbed up the satchel and started with it on his return up the companion stairs.
But he only started. As he began going up at the bottom, some one began coming down from the top. The fellow above was in as big a hurry as Clancy, and he lost his footing on the steep stairs and came below with a rush.
The motor wizard was caught full by the descending form, and knocked flat. His game shoulder, as he fell, struck against the corner of a locker with cruel force and a cry of pain was wrenched from his lips. Almost as soon as he was down he was up again, and he had not let go of the satchel.
The other fellow was also on his feet, It was Gerald Wynn! Wynn stared at Clancy as though he could hardly credit the evidence of his senses.
"You–here!" Wynn gulped.
No answer was necessary. Besides, with Clancy time was pressing. Taking advantage of Wynn's surprise, the motor wizard attempted to push by him and get to the deck. Wynn, however, had full use of his limbs and his faculties.
"Give me that satchel!" he cried, and tried to snatch the grip out of Clancy's hand.
Clancy evaded him with a deft leap sideways. Wynn swore savagely, and struck at the motor wizard with his clenched fist.
Clancy blocked the blow with his game arm–hurting it so that he almost felt as though it had been struck by lightning. Then his other fist shot out, catching Wynn fairly, and driving him against the bulkhead.
Clancy had to drop the satchel while executing his defense. He now grabbed it from the floor, and plunged on up the companionway. As he emerged through the companion doors, he beheld a form bulking largely in the half gloom. It was Captain Hogan, braced in the passageway between the top of the deck house and the rail, and leveling a revolver at the crouching form of Katz.
"Stand where you are, you bloomin' beach comber," yelled Hogan, "or I'll blow a hole through you!"
Katz swore, and continued his forward movement.
"Last call!" went on the captain. "Another step this way and I'll shoot!"
"You're a robber!" cried Katz. "You and Wynn, between you, have skinuned me out of seventy-five hundred dollars!"
"Where did you get the money?" demanded Hogan ironically. "It's no crime to skin a skinner–or to shoot one either, Here's where you get yours!"
Before Hogan could pull the trigger, Clancy sprang upon him from behind, and forced his revolver hand downward. The weapon exploded, and a bullet plumped into the deck.
While the captain was struggling with the motor wizard, Katz ran forward and wrenched away the six-shooter.
"Let go o' him, Clancy!" panted Katz. "I've got him now. The old sea shark will do as I say or take the same medicine he's been threatenin' to hand me."
Clancy flung himself from Hogan, and the latter stood at bay under the muzzle of the revolver.
"You're a measly pirate," flamed Hogan, "to come aboard of me and carry on like you're doing!"
"I'm no worse'n you, if I am a pirate!" snarled Katz. "Put your hands to your back. Clancy, get another piece o' that rope and make Hogan's arms fast."
Clancy put down the satchel and followed his companion's orders.
"Now sit down, Hogan!" snapped Katz.
"What's your scheme?" demanded the captain.
"To put you out o' the runnin'. Drop on the deck. I tell you!"
Katz flourished the revolver, as he spoke. Hogan lowered himself to the planks on which he was standing, easing his pent-up feelings wrathfully as he did so.
"Now a half hitch around his legs, Clancy," said Katz, and Clancy came around with the end of the rope and got the captain's legs in limbo.
"You're a fine pair of grafters!" sneered the irate Hogan. "I hope I live to manhandle you for this night's work."
Far off across the water could be heard a screech of oars in the locks, and a faint sound of voices. Hogan, aware that some of his men were coming from the pier, lifted his voice in a loud roar for help.
Katz, cursing furiously, sprang toward him and drew back his fist to strike. Clancy caught the arm before it could deal the blow, and saved the captain from such savage brutality. Katz turned on the motor wizard.
"Oh, you!" he yelped. "I reckon I'm about done with this foolin'. Gi' me that satchel!"
"I'll keep this," returned Clancy. "The money in it belongs to me."
"Blamed if I care who it belongs to, I'm goin' to have it. Fork over!" Katz pushed the point of the revolver in Clancy's face. "Fork, I tell you, or take the consequences."
Clancy dropped the satchel.
CHAPTER XII.
MORE THAN HE BARGAINED FOR.
Yes, Clancy dropped the satchel. It was the only thing for him to do, under the circumstances. He had discretion as well as bravery.
Besides, Clancy was facing the companionway and Katz had his back to it. The motor wizard could see something which escaped Katz entirely, and that was the stealthy advance of Gerald Wynn through the companion doors.
Wynn would soon be a factor in the situation. There was nothing he could do which would make the run of events worse than they already were for Clancy.
What had happened showed the folly of putting any trust in a desperado. It was through Clancy's efforts that Katz had been freed from his dangerous predicament in Captain Hogan's bungalow. But Katz did not give any consideration to that when the time came for him to turn the tables and secure the satchel for himself.
Perhaps, all Katz had helped Clancy for was the hope that just such an opportunity would come his way. Now that the opportunity had come, he was making the most of it.
"Katz is doing you dirt, eh?" rumbled the captain, turning his eyes upon Clancy.
"He forgets how I saved him at your bungalow," said the motor wizard.
"If you pulled him out of that scrape, then, keelhaul me, you deserve all he gives you!"
Katz laughed in ugly fashion.
"I'll get back what you and Wynn stole from me!" he remarked, stooping over to pick up the satchel.
As he bent down, two things happened. They happened very suddenly, too:
Clancy and Wynn sprang toward Katz at the same time–Clancy for the satchel and Wynn for the revolver. The work of both was excellent, for each got what he went after.
The approaching boat, by that time, was close alongside. In another moment, Hogan and Wynn would be supplied with reenforcements.
"Give me that!" yelled Katz, jumping toward Clancy.
Here the captain took a part in the combat. Bound though he was, he swung his feet upward suddenly and powerfully. Katz was struck in the side and toppled to the deck.
Four men came bounding over the bulwarks. "Captain!" they called; "where are you, captain?"
"Here!" yelled the captain. "Make prisoners of these two fellows, Katz and Clancy. Katz is on the deck, there, and Clancy—"
Clancy was just going over the side and into the water, so it was impossible to make a prisoner of him. He took the valuable satchel along.
"Get back into that boat, two of you," bellowed Hogan, "and snake that red-headed streak of lightning out of the water and back aboard theSylvia!Look alive, now! A hundred-dollar bonus to the man who captures Clancy and recovers the satchel he's got with him!"
Two of the men flung themselves into the boat and put off. The other two gave their first attention to Bob Katz, and bound him with the rope which was taken from the captain. So Katz, as it will be seen, was left in the hands of his enemies, thereby getting vastly more than he had bargained for.
Meanwhile, the motor wizard was swimming. He was perfectly at home in the water, and, even though he was handicapped with a game shoulder, he found no difficulty in keeping afloat with the satchel, and in spite of the weight of his wet clothes.
"Clancy!" called a voice across the water. "Where are you, Clancy?"
Two boats, at that moment, were searching for the motor wizard. One, of course, held enemies and was coming from theSylvia,the other, carrying Hill and Burton, was approaching from the pier.
It was Hiram Hill who had hailed. Clancy knew, for he had recognized the voice.
"This way, Hiram!" the motor wizard cried.
Two boats were aimed in Clancy's direction, and two pairs of oars struck the water.
"Crack your back, Burton!" yelled Hill, "If you want to get even with Wynn, now's your chance! Do your prettiest! The two men from theSylviaare trying to beat us to Clancy–and it's a close race."
Hill could see the dark form in the water, and the black shadow of the other boat rushing toward it. An idea flashed through his mind–an idea as dangerous as it might possibly be successful.
"Starboard oar, Burton!" he whooped. "Hard on the starboard oar!"
Burton's back was to the exciting little scene. He could only obey orders as he heard them. All his strength went suddenly into the starboard oar. The boat began to whirl; and then:
Crash! The bow of the craft swung against the side of the boat from theSylvia.TheSylvia'smen were dumped into the water, but Hill flung himself on the port gunwale of his own boat and kept it from turning turtle.
Burton, hurled from his seat by the force of the collision, picked himself up and took note of the situation Hill had caused. Two life preservers came whizzing from the deck of theSylvia,and the two men in the water each grabbed one.
"Bully!" yelled Burton, as Hill helped Clancy aboard. "There's the satchel! Clancy brought away the grip with the money! Oh, this is better than I hoped for!"
The motor wizard dropped with a splash into the bottom of the boat. While Hill held up his head and wrung the water out of his red hair, Burton got back on the midship thwart and grabbed the oars.
"Where's Katz, Clancy?" Hill asked.
"He must be on theSylvia," Clancy answered.
"No use trying to go back after him, is there?"
"Great Scott, no! Hogan and Wynn would get the satchel away from me, if we went back. Anyhow, we're not indebted to Bob Katz for anything. If he hadn't turned on me, at the last moment, and taken the satchel away at the point of a gun, he and I would both have got clear of theSylviain the dinghy. Katz is to blame for what happened."
"That's like him!" growled Burton. "He's getting it all around. See what he did to me!"
"He's a pesky varmint!" grunted Hill. "He might 'a' died, there in Hogan's bungalow, if it hadn't been for Clancy. It was almost the same as turnin' on the fellow that saved his life. I ain't got no use for such coyotes."
Clancy sat up on the boat's bottom and looked in the direction of theSylvia.The yacht's dinghy could be dimly discerned, putting off to the rescue of the two men in the water.
"I'm in luck to be safe out of that mess!" muttered Clancy. "Where were you when those four fellows from theSylviacame down to the pier?"
"We saw that Hogan and Wynn weren't among them," Hill answered, "and so we didn't interfere. There was a big howl when they couldn't find their dinghy. They managed to get another boat, though, and put off from the pier. A little later we heard the commotion on theSylviaand thought we'd better get a boat of our own and investigate."
"It's lucky you did," said Clancy. "If you hadn't been close enough to pick me up, I'd now be in the hands of Hogan and Wynn, along with Katz–and Hogan and Wynn would have the money. I guess, taking it by and large, we haven't anything to complain of."
They reached the pier, and made the boat fast to the float from which Hill and Burton had taken it. The excitement in the bay had not been heard, and there was no one besides themselves moving about the pier.
Clancy, carrying the water-soaked satchel, slopped and splashed his way to the street, followed by his two companions. On the sidewalk the motor wizard paused for a final word with Burton.
"What are you going to do, now that your two pals have passed you up?" Clancy asked.
"I'll work this diving stunt with Mynie Boltwood," Burton answered, "and see if I can't get together a bit of a stake."
"Come around to the Bolingbroke in the morning, Burton, and ask for me."
"Changed your mind? Think you'll turn me over to the police, after all?"
"Haven't any such idea. I think you could be decent, if you'd give your mind to it. What's the matter with turning over a new leaf and trying to be honest from now on?"
"When I want to hear a sermon," sneered Burton, turning on his heel, "I know where to go."
Without pausing to hear or to say anything further, he passed rapidly down the street, and vanished in the night.
"What do you want to see him in the mornin' for?" queried Hill curiously.
"I'd like to grubstake him," answered Clancy.
"You'd–what?"
The motor wizard repeated his words.
"Well, I'm blessed!" murmured Hill, "Why, Hank Burton is one of the three who helped Lafe Wynn nearly ruin you! And now you talk o' grubstakin' him. That red hair of yours certainly covers a lot of foolish idees."
"Burton is the best of Gerald's old gang, Hiram," said Clancy, as the two walked in the direction of the Bolingbroke House.
"That ain't a-sayin' a heap in his favor."
"He's a whole lot better than Bob Katz."
"Not much in that, nuther. But you won't have no chance to grubstake Burton, Clancy. He won't show up in the mornin'."
They reached the hotel, secured a room, and Clancy at once got out of his wet clothes. He was so tired and sleepy that he dozed off without thinking anything about the water-soaked satchel.
Hill, however, had the satchel on his mind, and took good care of it. When Clancy awoke in the morning, the bright sun was streaming in at the two windows of the room. On the floor in front of the windows Hill had spread two newspapers; and on these newspapers, where the warm sun would strike them, he had spread out the bank notes that had gone into the ocean with Clancy the night before.
It was pleasant work for Hiram, drying all that money. He whistled joyously as he changed the wet bills around, shifting the dryest to the shade and the wettest to the place where they would receive the hottest part of the sun's rays.
"How much is there, all together, Hiram?" Clancy asked.
"You're shy just half of the fifteen thousand, Clancy," was the reply; "there's only seventy-five hundred here–hardly enough to bother with."
CHAPTER XIII.
A "WIRELESS" FOR LAFE.
Clancy was startled. He had only been half as successful as he thought he had.
"Well, thunder!" he exclaimed, sitting up in bed. "Last night, Hiram, I was sure I had all the money that had been taken from Phoenix by Lafe."
"This Was Bob Katz's satchel, wasn't it?" Hill asked, nodding toward the grip.
"Yes."
"Well, Katz said he had only severity-five hundred in it, when it was taken from him by Hogan and Wynn."
"That's so," mused Clancy. "I didn't have much time last night, to reason matters out to a fine point. Half a loaf is better than no bread, though, I've heard say. I hadn't dreamed of recovering a cent of that fifteen thousand. Lafe and I are just so much ahead."
A knock fell on the door. Hill answered the summons and admitted Hank Burton.
"Well, by golly!" exclaimed Hill.
"What's the matter?" queried Burton sourly.
"I told Clancy I didn't think you'd come. Seein' you sort o' surprised me."
"What made you think I wouldn't come?" demanded Burton.
"Oh, the way you acted, the way you talked, and your low-down character, gen'rally."
Burton flushed and scowled. Turning away from Hill he addressed himself to Clancy.
"Here I am," said he. "Why did you want me to call here this morning?"
"I want to give you a grubstake," answered the motor wizard. "Hiram, if there are five dry twenty-dollar bills in that heap, give them to Burton."
Burton started, stared at Clancy, and then watched Hill while he knelt down and selected five twenties from the drying bills.
"What are you doing this for?" asked Burton falteringly.
"Just trying to give you a little boost in the right direction."
"I'm not entitled to any of that money!"
"I think you are. You earned something last night. Take the hundred, Burton, and see if you can't be square."
The young fellow's face paled, then the color dyed his cheeks. He stood looking down at the floor, then presently lifted his head and moved slightly toward Clancy and half raised his hand. Then he paused, once more, whirled suddenly, and got out of the room as fast as he could.
Hill had been watching these strange maneuvers in frank amazement. "I reckon he's locoed," he said, as soon as the door had closed behind Burton.
"No," returned Clancy, "his gratitude was trying to express itself, but couldn't quite make it. He has had his lesson, Hiram, and will profit by it."
"He has profited a hundred dollars' worth, anyhow," commented Hill dryly. "This Happy Trail of yours, Clancy, is a mighty queer one, seems to me. For a ways, it follows the one I took in huntin' for dad; then it branches off and points straight toward Gerald Wynn and his gang. Now here we are at the end of it–and you're seventy-five hundred to the good."
Clancy laughed.
"Get me a pencil and a piece of paper, Hiram," he requested.
Hiram found the writing materials and Clancy wrote out the following message:
"LAFE WYNN, Phoenix, Arizona: Luck. Seventy-five hundred of the missing fifteen thousand recovered. Cheer up. Happy Trail panning out better than expected. Still gunning for Hill's father.
CLANCY."
"Right across the street," said Clancy, "is a wireless station. Take this message over there, Hiram, and let the Hertzian waves get busy with it at once."
"On the jump!" answered Hill.
"Better take a five-dollar bill with you," Clancy suggested.
Hill picked up the bank note.
"I'd like to see that money get dry before we spend it all," he complained, and then went out with the wireless message for Lafe.
"Wonder if Lafe will feel any different when he gets that?" Clancy murmured, smiling happily. "I know I'm feeling a whole lot different myself!"
THE END.
"Owen Clancy's Double Trouble; or, The Motor Wizard's Mystery," concludes the red-headed chap's series of adventures, in the midst of which we have left him at the conclusion of this story. You will find the double-trouble story in the next issue of the weekly, No. 88, out April 4th.
Chapters 4 - 6 ofThe Snapshot Mysterynot included as the story is continued from a previous issue and continues in later issues.
THE COSSACKS.
The Cossacks are a race of freemen. The entire territory belongs to the Cossack commune and every individual has an equal right to the use of the land together with the pastures, hunting grounds, and fisheries. The Cossacks pay no taxes to the government, but in lieu of this–and here you see the connection between them and the Russian government–they are bound to perform military service. They are divided into three classes–first, the minors up to their sixteenth year; secondly, those on actual service for a period of twenty-five years; therefore, until their forty-second year; thirdly, those released from service, who remain for five years, or until their forty-seventh year in the reserve, after which period they are regarded as wholly released from service and invalided. Every Cossack is obliged to equip, clothe, and arm himself at his own expense, and to keep his horse. While on service beyond the frontiers of his own country, he receives rations of food and provender, and a small amount of pay. The artillery and train are at the charge of the government. Instead of imposing taxes on the Don Cossacks, the Russian government pays them an annual tribute, varying in peace and war, together, with grants to be distributed among the widows and orphans of those who have fallen in battle.
A SATIRICAL REWARD.
There was perhaps more satire than gratitude in the reward bestowed by a French lady on a surgeon for bleeding her–an operation in which the lancet was so clumsily used that an artery was severed and the poor woman bled to death. When she recognized that she was dying she made a will in which she left the operator a life annuity of eight hundred francs on condition "that he never again bleeds anybody as long as he lives."