Motor Matt's Double Trouble; or, The Last of the Hoodoo

by Stanley R. Matthews

  CHAPTER IV.

  SHOCKS TWO AND THREE.

  The motor boys were very much in the dark concerning Philo Grattan'smovements and intentions.

  "He was right," observed Matt, referring to Grattan's note, "when hesaid I was in the dark as much as he was concerning that piece ofglass. He wasn't fooled very long."

  "There's good advice in that note," said McGlory, who was beginning tohave apprehensions that he and Matt were not yet done with the Eye ofBuddha. "I mean where he says that if the mandarin gets into any moredifficulties we'll be wise to let him get out of them alone the bestway he can."

  "That's more than a piece of advice, Joe. If I catch the true meaning,it's a threat."

  McGlory at once saw a light in the general gloom.

  "Then, if it's a threat, pard, Grattan must be ready to make anothertry for the Eye of Buddha!"

  "That's the way it strikes me."

  "But what can Grattan do? Tsan Ti ought to be whooping it up prettywell to the west by now. He's got a good long start of Grattan in therun to 'Frisco."

  "What Grattan can do," said Matt reflectively, "is as hard tounderstand as what he has already done. We know he has discovered thatthis red jewel is a counterfeit, we know he sent some one here toreturn the piece of crimson glass to me, and it's a fair inference thathe's going to make another attempt to recover the real ruby. How he hasmanaged to do all this, however, or what he can possibly accomplish inoverhauling Tsan Ti, is far and away beyond me."

  "We're out of it, anyhow," remarked McGlory, with an airy confidencehe was far from feeling. "You've promised not to pay any attention toany four-eleven alarms you receive from the mandarin, and I'd feeltolerably comfortable over the outlook if--if----" He paused.

  "If what?" queried Matt.

  "Why, if I hadn't seen that red-headed idol chasing me in my sleep. Ihad two good looks at it. One look means trouble, two looks mean doubletrouble. Call me a Piegan if I ever knew it to fail."

  Matt laughed.

  "Never trouble trouble," he admonished, "till trouble troubles you."

  "Fine!" exclaimed McGlory; "but it's like a good many of these keen oldsaws--hard to live up to. I'll bet the inventor of that little spieldied of worry in some poorhouse. I'm always on my toes, shading my eyeswith my hat brim and looking for miles along the trail of life to seeif I can't pick up a little hard luck heading my way. Can't wait till Icome company front with it. Well, maybe it's all right. Life would besort of tame if something didn't happen now and then to make us gingerup. But we're for New York at eleven o'clock, no matter what happens!"

  A few minutes later they finished their breakfast and went out into theoffice. As Matt pushed up to the desk to ask the amount of his hotelbill, and settle for it, the clerk shoved a yellow envelope at him.

  "Telegram, Matt. Just got here."

  "Shock two," groaned McGlory, grabbing at the edge of the desk. "_Now_what? Oh, tell me!"

  Matt tore open the envelope, read the message, stared at it, whistled,then read it again.

  "Somebody want us to run an air ship or go to sea in a submarine?"palpitated McGlory. "Sufferin' tenterhooks, pard! Stop your staring andwhistling, and hand it to me right off the bat."

  Matt caught McGlory's arm and conducted him to a corner where therewere a couple of easy-chairs.

  "It's from the mandarin," he announced.

  "Sufferin' chinks!" breathed the cowboy. "Didn't I tell you? Say,_didn't_ I? What's hit him now?"

  "I'll read you the message, Joe."

  "Go ahead. All I want you to do, pard, is just to remember what youpromised me."

  "'Esteemed friend,'" read Matt, "'and highly treasured assistant intime of storm----'"

  "Speak to me about that!" grunted the disgusted McGlory. "His word boxis full of beadwork."

  "'Again I call from the bottomless pit of distress,'" continued Matt,"'and from this place named Gardenville announce the duplicity of SamWing, who suddenly absented himself from the train with my supply ofcash and the Eye of Buddha. Having no money, I have requested of thehonorable telegraph company to receive pay from you. If----'"

  "He's lost the ruby!" gasped McGlory, "and Sam Wing is the guilty man!Oh, Moses, what a throwdown! Why, I had a notion Sam Wing thought thesun rose and set in Tsan Ti. And Sam Wing lifted the ruby and themandarin's funds and hot-footed it for parts unknown! Well, _well_!"

  "'If,'" continued Matt, continuing the reading, "'I cannot recover thepriceless gem, then nothing is left for me but the yellow cord. Hasten,noble youth, and aid in catching the miserable Sam Wing.' That's all,Joe," finished Matt, with a frown.

  "Then drop it in the waste basket and let's settle our bill and startfor the landing. It's a quarter to eleven. While you're paying up I'llgo to the room after our grips."

  The cowboy started impatiently to his feet. Matt continued to sit inhis chair, frowning and peering into vacancy.

  "Mosey!" urged Joe.

  "It seems too bad to turn Tsan Ti down in such cold-blooded fashion,"said Matt.

  "There you go! That's you! Say, pard, the mandarin thinks he's got amortgage on you. What's the good of helping a chink who's so locoed hetotes a fifty-thousand-dollar ruby around with him rather than hand itover to the express company for transportation? Take it from me, youcan keep helping Tsan Ti for the next hundred years, and he'll neverget out of the country till he separates himself from the Eye of Buddhaand let some one else take the risk of getting it to Canton. Are yougoing?"

  "The poor old duffer," continued Matt, "is always right up in the airwhen anything goes wrong with him. We know what the safe return of thatruby to the Honam joss house means to him, Joe. The ruler of China hassent him a yellow cord--a royal invitation for him to strangle himselfif the ruby is not found and returned to the forehead of the idol."

  "Look here," snapped McGlory, "time's getting scarce. Are you goingdown the river with me, pard, or have I got to go alone?"

  Before Matt could answer, a well-dressed man hurried into the lobbyfrom the street and rushed for the desk as though he had something onhis mind.

  "That's Martin," said Matt, looking at the man.

  Martin was proprietor of the local garage and had been of considerableassistance to the motor boys during the first days of their stay inCatskill. It was Martin who owned the two motor cycles which had beenstolen from Matt and McGlory by Bunce and a pal. The boys had had toput up three hundred dollars to settle for that escapade, but Tsan Tihad made the amount good.

  Martin talked excitedly with the hotel clerk for a moment, and theclerk leaned over the desk and pointed toward the corner where themotor boys had seated themselves. Martin, a look of satisfactioncrossing his troubled face, bore down on the corner.

  "Look out for shock number three," growled McGlory. "Sufferin' hoodoos!We've taken root here in Catskill, and I'll bet we won't be able topull out for the rest of our natural lives."

  The cowboy, apparently discouraged with the outlook, dropped down intohis chair and leaned back in weary resignation.

  "Matt!" exclaimed Martin, "you're just the fellow I want to find."

  "What's wrong, Mr. Martin?" inquired Matt.

  "A three-thousand-dollar car was stolen out of my garage last night.The night man was attacked, knocked over the head, and then bound handand foot. It was a most brazen and dastardly piece of work."

  "Too bad," spoke up McGlory, "but things like that will happenoccasionally. Think of Matt and me getting done out of those two motorcycles of yours."

  "But I'll have to put up ten times what you fellows did for the motorcycles--that is, if we can't get the car back."

  "_We!_" boomed McGlory, starting forward in his chair. "If _we_ can'tget the car back! Are Motor Matt and Pard McGlory mixed up in that'we'?"

  "Well, I thought when you knew the circumstances that----"

  "Don't hem, and haw, and sidestep," cut in McGlory keenly. "You're introuble, and whenever anybody in the whole country stumbles againstsomething that's gone crosswise, then it
's 'Hurrah, boys,' and send forMotor Matt. I wish I had words to tell you how inexpressibly weary allthis makes me. Didn't you ever stop to think, Martin, that, off and on,the motor boys might have troubles of their own?"

  "But listen. You haven't heard the facts."

  "What are the facts, Martin?" asked Matt.

  "Why, the night man recognized one of the scoundrels who struck himdown. The rascal was dressed in sailor clothes and had a green patchover one eye."

  "Bunce!" exclaimed Matt, starting up.

  "That's it," cried Martin, glad of the impression he was making."I knew you and McGlory had been mixed up with that sailor, and Inaturally thought you'd be glad of a chance to help nab him."

  "About what time was the car stolen?" asked Matt, quieting McGlory witha quick look.

  "About half-past two," answered Martin. "I've got a car ready to chasethe scoundrels. Have you any notion which way that car ought to go?"

  "You're a trifle late taking up the pursuit," remarked Matt. "Here itis nearly eleven, and the automobile was stolen at half-past two--morethan eight hours ago."

  "I was up at Cairo," explained Martin, "and didn't get back till teno'clock this morning."

  "I've something of a clue," said Matt, "but it may be too late tofollow it."

  "Where does the clue lead?"

  "To Gardenville."

  "Then we'll make a fast run to Gardenville. Will you go along?"

  "Yes," said Matt. "Come on, Joe."

  And McGlory dutifully went. As he, and Matt, and Martin passed outof the hotel, the down-river boat from Albany whistled for CatskillLanding. The cowboy looked at it.

  "We'll never get to New York," he murmured; "not in a thousand years.We're out for two different kinds of trouble, and we'll be into both of'em up to our eyes before we're many hours older."