CHAPTER XI.
THE OLD SUGAR CAMP.
Pryne's team was by no means a swift one. The horses jogged slowly outinto the hills, Pryne constantly plying a gad.
"Seems to me like," remarked Pryne, looking around suddenly, "thatGrattan allowed Bunce had only one eye."
"That's another pal of his," said Matt coolly. "You've got us mixed,Pryne."
"Waal, mebby. Git ap, there," he added to the horses; "you critters areslower'n merlasses in January."
For a few minutes they rode in silence, the dust eddying around themand only the creak of the wagon, the thump of the horses' hoofs, andthe swish of the gad breaking the stillness.
Goldstein, his satchel on his knees, kept flicking a gaudy and heavilyperfumed handkerchief in front of his face to clear away the dust.Matt was busy with his thoughts, and was wondering what was to happenat the end of the journey.
Abruptly, Pryne turned again in his seat.
"Seems, too," he ventured, "as how Grattan said this Bunce was a sailoran' wore sailor clothes."
"That's the other fellow again, Pryne," Matt smiled. "You haven't gotmuch of a memory, I guess."
"Waal, it ain't long, but it's mighty keen."
"My cracious," murmured Goldstein, "but der dust is bad. How muchfarther is it yet?"
"We turn at the next crossroads and pull up a hill," answered Pryne;"then we leave the hill road for a ways, an' we're there. It's my olesugar camp. Trees is mostly played out, though, an' we don't make sugarthere no more. It kinder 'pears to me like," he added, another thoughtstriking him, "Grattan said Bunce had whiskers around his jaws."
"That's the other pal," said Matt.
"Git ap, there, Prince!" called Pryne, slapping the off horse with thegad.
"How long have you known Grattan, Pryne?" inquired Matt.
"Always, since I got married. My wife's his sister. Annaballe--that'sthe old woman--she's English, she is. Come over visitin' in Cairo,ten year back, an' I up and asked her to marry me. Grattan was to theweddin', an' that was the first an' only time we'd met till a few daysago. Great traveler, Grat is. He's been to Ejup, an' Rooshia, an' Chinyan' all them countries. Great traveler. Takes pictur's for these heremovin'-picture machines."
Matt heard this with interest. It reminded him of another time whenhe had encountered a moving-picture man and had had a particularlythrilling experience. And this experience with Grattan promised to beeven more thrilling.
"Is the sugar camp a safe place?" asked Matt.
"Nobody ever goes to the old camp now no more," replied Pryne.
"My cracious, vat a dust!" said Goldstein. "How big is der Eye?" hewhispered to Matt.
"Wait till you see it," Matt answered.
"Pigeon's blood, yes?"
Matt supposed he meant to ask if the Eye of Buddha was a pigeon's bloodruby. Taking a chance, Matt nodded.
"She is a true Oriental, eh?" went on Goldstein, a greedy glint cominginto his eyes.
"It must be if it comes from China."
"So! If she weigh five carat, she is vorth ten times so much as adiamond. But diamonds ain't vorth so much now."
Matt looked behind him. The sack of middlings was half emptied.
"Are we halfway to the old sugar camp, Pryne?" Matt called.
"Better'n that," was the reply. "Here's where we turn for up the hill."
The hill was long and high, and the road turned into a little-usedtrail and ascended through timber. The horses pulled and panted and thegad fell mercilessly.
"Somethin' of a climb," said Pryne casually. "One of them tires backthere is loose--the one on the right-hand side. Kinder keep an eye onit, will you?"
Matt looked at the tire, which was on his side of the wagon. As yet,it was all right. Matt hoped it would remain so, for if Pryne got outto drive it on he might discover the loss of his middlings--and otherthings which would have a tendency to excite his suspicions.
"Der dust ain't so much here," observed Goldstein, in a tone of relief.
"Ain't so many wagons to churn it up," said Pryne.
Then fell silence again, Matt busy with his thoughts.
Where was Tsan Ti? While Matt was running down the Eye of Buddha forhim, what was the Chinaman, to whom the recovery of the ruby meant somuch, doing?
These speculations were bootless, and Matt fell to thinking of theglass balls. If Grattan had a supply of them, all the men McGlory couldbring would not be able to prevent him from getting away.
Success in the king of the motor boys' venture hung by an exceedinglyslender thread.
"It will be hard business to cut it up," came the voice of Goldstein,breaking roughly into Matt's somber reflections.
"Hard to cut what up?" Matt asked.
"Der Eye. When it ain't best to sell precious stones in one piece, thenwe cut them up."
Matt understood what the Jew was driving at. Large diamonds are hardto market, especially if the diamonds have been stolen. In order todispose of them they are often cut up into smaller stones.
"You see," proceeded Goldstein, "dis ruby is valuable because of itssize, yes. Der size makes all der difference. If it is cut under fifecarat, dere vasn't much sale. Anyhow, diamonds is sheaper as they was.I lose a lot of money by der fall in der price of diamonds."
"Here's where we turn from the hill road an' strike out for the sugarcamp," remarked Pryne.
He swerved from the steep road as he spoke and drove into a bumpy swathcut through the timber. For half a mile or more they jolted and bangedalong, then Pryne pulled to a halt.
"I'll hitch here," said he, getting out, "an' I'll leave the rig.The rest of the way we'll go on foot. It ain't fur," he addedhastily, noticing the solicitous glance which Goldstein threw at hispatent-leather shoes.
"First time I efer come to a place like this to buy precious stones,"remarked the Jew, clambering slowly down.
Matt had a bad two minutes waiting for Pryne to hitch the horses andfearing he would come to the rear of the wagon and discover the slashedbag of feed. But Pryne was apparently unsuspicious.
Turning away from the tree to which he had hitched the horses, hecalled to Matt and Goldstein to follow him.
Their path took them through the old sugar "bush," among maples thatwere dead and dying and whose trunks were deeply scarred by the saphunters. Presently an old log building came into view.
"There's the place," said Pryne.
Part of the building was nothing more than a tumble-down shed. One endof the structure, however, was walled in, and seemed to have been madehabitable by the use of rough boards.
A length of stovepipe stuck up through the roof--about the only visiblesign that the place was used as a dwelling.
With Pryne in the lead, the odd little group moved around the side ofthe log wall to a door.
To say that Matt's heart did not beat more quickly, or that visions ofviolence did not float before his mental gaze, would be to say that hewas not human.
He had a keen realization of the dangers into which he was about tothrow himself. The moment he passed the door deception would be athing of the past. Grattan would recognize him as a stranger--a pryingstranger who had come to the sugar camp with the intention of securingthe Eye of Buddha.
Matt's problem was to engage Grattan's attention, and keep him fromgoing to extremes, until McGlory should arrive with re?nforcements.
Just how Matt was to do this he did not know. He was trusting toluck--and luck had not been favoring him to any great extent lately.
The door of the log hut was closed. Pryne rapped on it.
"Who's there?" demanded a voice from within.
"It's Pryne, Grat," was the answer.
"Goldstein and Bunce with you?"
"Sure. I've fetched 'em."
"Then bring them in. I'm ready and waiting."
Pryne bore down on the wooden latch and threw open the door.
"Go right in, gents," said he, stepping back.
Goldstein, with a laugh, passed through the door fir
st. Matt followed.Pryne brought up the rear and closed the door.
What light there was in the one room in which Matt found himself camethrough the broken roof. There were no windows in the log walls.
"He was there, all right, Grat," cried Pryne, with a loud guffaw, "an'he didn't make no bones about comin' with me. He was mighty anxious tocome, seemed like, but I don't calculate he guessed he'd find so manyfolks here."
Matt's eyes, by that time, had become accustomed to the gloom, and hewas able to look around and distinguish various objects.
First, he saw a heavy-set man on a bench. This man had a dark face anda sinister eye, and was leaning back against the wall. Both his handsclung to a buckthorn cane with a large wooden handle. The cane wascrossed against one of his knees and held it slightly elevated.
"Throw yer binnacle lights this way, my hearty, as soon's ye're donesizin' up my shipmate," came a voice from the opposite side of the room.
Matt whirled, a startled exclamation escaping his lips.
It was the one-eyed sailor who had spoken. The fellow was sitting onanother bench, a wide grin on his weather-beaten face.
The trap had been sprung--and it was the most complete trap Matt hadever been in.
"I told ye more'n once to leave the Eye o' Buddha alone," chuckledBunce, "but ye wouldn't take a warnin'. _Now_, see where ye are!"
Motor Matt's Mandarin; or, Turning a Trick for Tsan Ti Page 11