Motor Matt's Mariner; or, Filling the Bill for Bunce

by Stanley R. Matthews

  CHAPTER V.

  BUNCE SPEAKS A GOOD WORD FOR HIMSELF.

  Matt made a brief study of Bunce, leaning back in his seat and gazingat the mariner through half-closed eyes. The sailorman's get-upreminded Matt of _Dick Deadeye_ in "Pinafore." Whether Bunce was reallya deep-water humbug, and whether he was to be taken seriously, werequestions that gave Matt a good deal of bother.

  "He's stringing us, pard," averred McGlory bluntly. "That tongue of hisis hung in the middle and wags at both ends."

  "Avast, my man-o'-war!" came hotly from the mariner. "I'm no loafinglongshore scuttler to let go my mudhooks in these waters and then beginsplicing the main brace out of hand. You'll get your whack, my blood,and get it hard, if you keep on in the style ye're goin'. Belay a bit,can't you?"

  McGlory snorted contemptuously and put his tongue in his cheek. Buncebegan fingering his knife lanyard.

  "No more of that give-and-take," said Matt.

  "I'm a hard man," observed Bunce, "an' I've lived a hard life, winnin'my mate's berth on the ole _Hottentot_ off Trincomalee by bashing inthe skull of a Kanaka. More things I've done as would make your bloodrun cold just by listenin' to, but I'm straight as a forestay for allthat, d'ye mind, an' I've a clean bill from every master I ever sailedwith. 'He ain't much fer looks, Bunce ain't,' as Cap'n Banks, of theole _Hottentot_ used to say, 'but in a pinch you don't have to looktwice for Bunce.' An' there ye have it, all wrapped up, tied small, an'ready for any swab as doubts me."

  "Bunce," said Matt dubiously, "I'm frank to say I don't know just howto take you. By your own confession you're a thief----"

  "Only when chinks has the loot," cut in Bunce hastily, "an' when ittakes a bit of headwork an' a matchin' o' wits to beat 'em out."

  "You helped Grattan steal the Eye of Buddha. Plotted it on a sampan offCanton, didn't you?"

  Bunce shoved in his chair and showed signs of consternation.

  "Scuttle me!" he gulped. "Wherever did you find that out? Grattan nevertold you where we had our chin-chin in the river of Honam."

  "It's all pictured out," said Matt, "and you can drop into a theatre,in this town of Catskill, and see yourself and Grattan committing therobbery."

  Bunce fell limply back.

  "So, ho!" he mumbled. "Then them pictures are out, eh? They wasn't tocome out for a month yet--it was in the agreement."

  "Agreement?"

  "Ay, no more nor less. It was on the trip from 'Frisco, east, mate,when Grattan an' me had the ruby but not a sou markee in our pockets.We needed money. Grattan knew some of these moving-picture swabs inChicago, and he allowed he could turn a few reds by givin' 'em theplan of the robbery an' helpin' act it out. 'Avast,' says I, feelin' awarnin' twinge, 'don't touch it, Philo!' But he would--an' did, firstgettin' an' agreement from the swabs that they wouldn't put out thepictures for two months. We got a couple of hundred yen for the work,an' that's what brought us on to the Catskills. So it's out, so it'sout," and Bunce wagged his head forebodingly.

  "Did you play a part in the pictures, Bunce?" went on Matt.

  "Not I, mate! I may be lackin' in the head, once in a while, butthere's a few keen thoughts rollin' around in my locker. I wouldn't goin for it, an' you can smoke my weather roll on that."

  "There's a one-eyed sailor in the picture," said Matt.

  "And he's a dead ringer for you," added McGlory.

  "Which it ain't me, d'ye see?" scowled the mariner. "It's acounterfeit, got up to look like me--an' nothin' more."

  "Then it's a mighty good counterfeit," averred the cowboy.

  "I'm a man o' high principles, mate, even though I do say it asshouldn't. I was brought up right, by a Marblehead fisherman whohated rum, couldn't abide playin' cards, an' believed the-ay-ters wasmilestones on the road to the hot place. Actin' in a play I wouldn'tthink of, an' that's the flat of it. But what's the good word,shipmate? Are you sailin' this cruise wi' me to save the life o' themandarin? I must know one way or t'other."

  "Where is Grattan?"

  "Five miles away, snug as a bug in a rug where he'll never be foundonless I con the course. We'll have to go to him soon, if he'scaptured. I'm due at the meetin' place to-night."

  "You spoke of a motor car----"

  "Ay, that I did. It's hid in the woods beyond the railroad yards. We'lluse that."

  "You had a couple of motorcycles," said Matt.

  "Which you and Grattan stole from us," supplemented McGlory. "What'sbecome of them, Bunce?"

  "Wrecked an' sunk," answered Bunce. "Mine sprung a leak an' went over acliff in fifty fathoms of air; Grattan's bounced up on a reef an' wentto pieces. Then we lifted the motor car, usin' of it for night cruises."

  "You stole a motor car, eh?" said McGlory grimly. "And on top ofthat you have the nerve to come along here and speak a good word foryourself."

  "Stow it," growled Bunce, "or you an' I'll be at loggerheads for good.What's the word?" and he turned his gleaming eye on Matt. "You can usethe telephone an' hand me over to the police, or you can do as I sayan' save the mandarin. What's the word?"

  "When will we have to start after Grattan?" asked Matt.

  "By early mornin', mate, just when it's light enough to see."

  "And where'll we meet you?"

  "In the woods beyond the railroad yards. Go there, stand on the track,an' whistle. I'll whistle back, then we'll come together--an' fill thebill."

  "You can expect us at six o'clock," said Motor Matt, unlocking the doorand pulling it open.

  "Brayvo, my bully!" enthused Bunce. "An' ye'll come armed? Grattan is ahard man, an' sizable in a scrimmage."

  "We'll be prepared to take care of Grattan," answered Matt. "Goodnight, Bunce."

  "Good night it is," and the mariner vanished into the hall.

  As soon as the door was again closed, Matt turned to find McGlorystaring at him as though he thought he was crazy.

  "Sufferin' tinhorns!" exclaimed the cowboy. "You can't mean it, pard?"

  "Yes, I do," was the answer.

  "Why, that old fore-and-after never told the truth in his life! He wasusing his imagination overtime."

  "The chances are that he was, but there's a bare possibility he wastelling the truth. We know Tsan Ti is in New York, and we can't feelabsolutely sure that the Chinaman hasn't fallen into some trap laid byGrattan. If that's the case, the mandarin may lose his life."

  "There's about as much chance of that, pard, as that you and I will getstruck by lightning."

  "We'll say the chance that Bunce is telling the truth is about one ina hundred. Well, Joe, that hundredth chance is what we can't take.Besides, Grattan is wanted. If he is really in the hills, and we cancapture him, that will clear the road for Tsan Ti."

  "But what will you do with the Eye of Buddha?"

  Matt was in a quandary about that.

  "Will you tote it along on a trip of this kind?" proceeded Joe, "orwill you leave it in the hotel safe? Maybe that's what Bunce is playingfor."

  "He don't know we have the ruby. How could he?"

  "I'm by. But he's up to something, and that's a cinch."

  "We'll have to give him the benefit of the doubt--on account of TsanTi."

  "Consarn that bungling chink!" grunted the cowboy, venting his anger onthe mandarin as the original cause of their perplexing situation. "Youcan't do a thing with that red stone but lug it along."

  "If the banks were open between now and the time we start, I mightleave it with one of them for safe-keeping."

  "And go dead against your letter of instructions! Then you would beresponsible."

  "I'll think it over to-night," said Matt, and began his preparationsfor turning in.

  But sleeping over the question didn't answer it. Matt's quandary lasteduntil far into the night.

  He had no faith in Bunce; he couldn't understand why Tsan Ti shouldhave sent the ruby to him for safe-keeping; he doubted the wisdom ofgoing into the hills with the mariner, and he understood well the riskof carrying the priceless Eye of Buddha with him on the morni
ng'sventure.

  When McGlory opened his eyes in the first gray of the morning, Matt wastying up the box in which the ruby had come by express.

  "What are you going to do, pard?" inquired the cowboy, jumping out ofbed and beginning to scramble into his clothes.

  "I guess, after all," answered Matt, "that I'll leave this box with theclerk."

  "Wish I knew whether that was the proper caper, or not, but I don't.One thing's as good as another, I reckon."

  At five-thirty they had a hurried breakfast, and, a little before six,Matt handed the small box to the hotel clerk and asked him to put itaway in the office safe. Then the motor boys started for the railroadtrack and followed it away from the river and into the wooded ravinebeyond the yards.

  "This is far enough, I guess," said Matt, and began to whistle.

  The signal was promptly returned from a place on the left, and the headof the mariner was pushed through a thicket of bushes.

  "Ahoy, my hearties!" came from Bunce. "Come up here and bear a fistwith the car, will ye?"

  Puzzled not a little at this request, Matt and McGlory climbed the bankof the ravine and came alongside the mariner on a small, cleared shelfon the bank side. The "motor car" was before them, and at sight of itMcGlory exploded a laugh.

  "Speak to me about this!" he exclaimed. "Had you any notion it was thissort of a bubble, Matt?"