Motor Matt on the Wing; or, Flying for Fame and Fortune

by Stanley R. Matthews

  TRICKED BY TWO.

  CONCLUSION.

  Neatly ensconced under the bed clothes, and with its horrible fleshlesshead laid in ghastly mockery upon his pillow, was a human skeleton.

  For a moment Guy Hereford stared at the hideous object. Then recoveringhimself with a strong effort, he shouted violently for his boy Rufus.

  The negro came into the room, showing a double row of magnificentivories in a grin that stretched almost from ear to ear.

  "What does this mean, Rufe?" demanded Guy angrily, pointing to theskull on his pillow.

  "Doan' you get excited, boss," said the nigger, still grinning. "I donedat. I been all day gettin' him. Nebber had such a job in all my bawndays."

  "Have you gone clean crazy?" cried Guy in amazed perplexity.

  "No, sah. _Dat you!_" was Rufe's amazing reply. "Doan' you be angry,boss," he went on hurriedly, as Guy stepped suddenly toward him. "Idone discovered a splendiferous plan to obfuscate dat dar Deacon, anddat am part ob de invention. I tell you dat am you."

  Guy was beyond speech. He could only gaze helplessly at the beamingface of the negro.

  Rufus, proud as a peacock, condescended to explain. "It dis way, sah.You going to build a new house soon, ain't you?"

  "I was," replied Guy gloomily.

  "Dat all right, den. Now, doan' you be down-hearted, sah. Dis niggahbossing dis heah job."

  "For Heaven's sake explain, Rufe," exclaimed Guy.

  "I goin' to, sah. It dis way. Dis am de time for burning de woods,ain't it?"

  Guy nodded. For the life of him he could not imagine what the man wasdriving at.

  "An' grass am good an' long right up to de back ob de garden?"

  "Yes."

  "Den dis my plan, sah. I set out fire in de woods to-night, set him inten, twelve places. Dere's a win' blowin' from de west. Ef we doan'touch it de house burn down sure." He paused with an illuminatingchuckle.

  Light began to dawn on Guy.

  "You mean," he said slowly, "that we're to burn down the shanty andmake them think that I've burned in it. That skeleton's to be me."

  "You done hit de bull's face in once, sah!" cried the negro in highdelight. "Dat just de way I figure it out. In de morning dat no-'countDeacon, he come round to see you an' find out if you done got de moneyfor him. Den he find nothin' but de burned-up house an' de burned-upbones."

  "'Pon my soul, Rufe, I believe it's workable," exclaimed Guy, a lightof hope appearing on his puzzled face.

  "In course it am workable, sah. Deacon, he can't get no money from adaid man. Dat one thing mighty sure!"

  "But won't he suspect anything?" suggested Guy.

  "Not if dis niggah still alive," declared Rufe emphatically. "I tellyou, Marse Guy, I goin' to do down dat man proper. He find me hyah,just a-howlin' and a-carryin' on ober dem ole bones, an' I tell him allabout how de fire come in out ob de woods an' how it cotch de house,an' how I done try to pull you out. Oh, I fool him 'to eights.'"

  Guy couldn't help laughing. Rufe's enjoyment over the prospectivehumbugging of Deacon was so intense.

  "You see, Marse Guy," went on Rufe eagerly, "Deacon he be so glad tothink you daid, he never bother to t'ink whether you foolin' him. Henext heir, an' all he t'ink be to get de place an' all de t'ings datbelong to you. He nebber go to dat inquisition at all."

  "And what's to become of me in the meantime?" asked Guy.

  "You got money, ain't you?"

  "Yes, luckily I've got twenty dollars or so in the house."

  "Well, dat all right. Take de train an' go down to Tampa on de Gulf.Swimmin' in de sea do you a power o' good, boss. I reckon you bettertake some oder name an' den walk down an' cotch de train at some placefurder down de line dan Pine Lake."

  After a little more talk Guy and his man settled up all the details. Itwas agreed that the house should be sacrificed, and that Guy himselfshould temporarily disappear and go down to Tampa. After the inquest onBlissett, Rufe was to write to him there at the post office and tellhim how things turned out.

  The worst of it was that Dandy had to be left behind. It would arousesuspicion if the pony were taken away. But Guy, who was anxious aboveall things that his horse should not fall into Deacon's hands, even fora few days, thought of a way out of the difficulty. He gave Rufe a notefor his wages for two months, and told him that on the following day hewas to go into Pine Lake and file a lien on the pony for his pay.

  Then the two set to work to take Guy's few articles of value out of theshanty and hide them. This they did by rolling them in a big rubberblanket and burying them in the dry, sandy soil in the orange grove.

  This took some little time, and it was nearly eleven o'clock when Guywas at last ready to go.

  "Now, mind you, Rufe," were his last words to the negro, "don't youoverdo it, and don't let Deacon see that you hate him. A little softsawder won't do any harm."

  "Doan' you worry your haid, boss," replied Rufe consolingly. "I reckonI keep up my end agains' Deacon or any of dem folk. To-morrow, after Iseen Deacon, I go to Pine Lake an' hear de inquest on Blissett. Den Iwrite an' tell you all dat happen."

  Guy nodded. "I shall be desperately anxious to hear the verdict," hesaid. "If Deacon doesn't give evidence, the worst they're likely toreturn is manslaughter."

  "Doan' you worry, boss," said Rufe confidently. "I reckon it am goingto be 'justificational homeyside.' Deacon, he won't give no evidence.He be too busy gettin' ready to move over heah."

  "Only hope so," said Guy. "Now, good-by, Rufe. Remember all I've toldyou."

  Master and man shook hands, and Guy, slinging a small bag acrosshis shoulder on a stick, walked away from the shanty which had beenhis only home for four long years of hard work and happiness, anddisappeared into the forest.

  He had not gone far before a flickering glow gleamed redly on theserried ranks of tall, straight trunks.

  He turned. Half a dozen pin points of fire were visible on the far sideof the clearing. They grew rapidly, and presently the night sky was allaglow with leaping tongues of flame.

  The soft breeze which soughed through the tops of the pines sent theflames sweeping down upon the little house, which stood a squat, blackmass between the watcher and the blaze behind.

  Fascinated by the sight, Guy stood motionless, watching the destructionsweep upon his home.

  The many little fires joined forces, and Guy could plainly hear theroar and crackle as the tall, dry grass burst into hissing sparks.There was little chance of any one interfering to save the house. Nowthat Blissett was dead Guy had no neighbor within a mile, and in thespring of the year fires are too frequent in the Florida woods for anyone to pay attention. The cattlemen are always busy burning off the oldgrass to get fresh pasture for their herds.

  Now the whole sky was alight, and the blaze illuminated the sleepingwoods far and near. Red-hot sparks were falling like rain upon theshingle roof of the cabin.

  Another minute, and little streaks of red fire were winding like snakesabout the eaves.

  "She's going," muttered Guy sorrowfully.

  Yes, once the fire got hold of the sun-dried pine of which the housewas built the flames rushed up in great leaping columns. The placeburned like a tar barrel, and the glow became so intense that Guyshrank away further into the woods for fear of being observed by anyone who might possibly have been attracted by the blaze.

  Still he could not tear himself away from the sight of the destructionof his old home. Sheltering behind a huge pine trunk, he watched till,with a loud crash and a hurricane of sparks, the roof fell in, and ofthe shanty no more remained than a shapeless pile.

  With a deep sigh Guy Hereford turned away, and never stopped until atfour o'clock in the morning he boarded the south-bound mail train atthe small wayside station of Kissochee.

  * * * * *

  "Any letter for George Hatfield?"

  The smart clerk took up a bundle of letters, ran them rapidly through,and flung them down. "Nope!"

  Guy Her
eford's face fell.

  "Quite sure?" he asked.

  The clerk glared.

  "What do you think?" he asked sharply, and the other turned slowly away.

  "What's happened?" he thought uneasily. "Why hasn't Rufe written?"

  He was hardly outside the post office before a bare-legged nigger boythrust a paper in his face. "Here y'are, boss. _Tampa Sentinel!_ All dedetails ob de horrific tragedy up in Orange County."

  Guy grabbed a paper, shoved a quarter into the astonished youngster'shand, and, without waiting for change, was off like a shot.

  He reached his room in the boarding house where he had put up, and torethe paper open.

  Yes, here it was--a whole column!

  "Strange double tragedy near Pine Lake! Well-known cattleman killed.His nearest neighbor burned to death. Two inquests in one day."

  So much for the headlines.

  Guy gave a deep sigh of relief. "Nothing about murder, anyhow," hemuttered.

  Then he began to read rapidly. Slowly his expression of anxiety changedto relief, and then to amusement. Finally he burst into a fit oflaughter.

  "Fine! Dandy!" he cried. "My good Oliver, you are a peach, and nomistake. This is the absolute limit." And dropping the paper he layback in his chair and laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks.

  "Dat am too bad, Marse Guy. I nebber t'ink you heah it all from datfool newspaper."

  The deep voice made Guy fairly jump. Springing to his feet he swunground, and there was Rufe, dressed in his best Sunday-go-to-meetingclothes, and with an expression of deep annoyance on his ebony face.

  "You Rufe?"

  "Yes, sah. I come down all de way by de train to tell you de news, an'now dat blame paper done tole you de whole t'ing."

  "Not a bit of it, Rufe. It hasn't told me half. If you hadn't turned upI should have taken the next train back to see you and find out justwhat has happened. Tell me, is Deacon in possession?"

  Rufe, somewhat mollified, grinned. "Yes, boss, he dar right enough. Hecamping in de stable."

  "Hasn't got Dandy, I hope?" put in Guy anxiously.

  "No, sah. Dandy in de libery stable at Pine Lake."

  "That's all right. Now go on. Tell me what happened. Did he come overyesterday morning?"

  "Yes, sah; he come ober about ten. An' you ought to hab seen his facewhen he foun' de house burned!"

  "He asked for me, I suppose?"

  "Yes, he done ask for you at once, an' I show him de bones, an' tellhim you all burned up. Fust he look flabbergasted, den he sort o'chuckle, and I feel like whanging him one ober de haid."

  "What happened then?"

  "He act like he think he boss an' I his niggah. He tell me go get awagon an' carry de bones into Pine Lake. Say it sabe trouble hab oneinquisition 'stead ob two. I act meek, an go borrow a spring wagon an'hitch Dandy up, an' we take de bones in, an' he tell de sheriff. It'ink dat sheriff kind ob like you, Marse Guy. He mighty worried. Denhe say; 'Quite right. Hab one inquisition on bofe de bodies.'"

  "Did you go, Rufe?"

  "You bet I go, boss. Firs' dey hab Blissett's body. All dem crackerchaps look at de haid, an' Deacon he gib evidence an say he seen itall. He say dat Blissett done tried to shoot you, and you didn't hab nopistol, but you was real brave an' ride hard at him, an' knock him offde hawse, an' de hawse kick him an' run away into de woods."

  Rufe stopped to chuckle at the remembrance. Guy laughed too. He quiteunderstood Deacon's motive.

  His cousin wanted to pose in a good light before the jury, so thatthere could be no chance of suspicion falling on him that he wasimplicated in his--Guy's--death.

  "Den de sheriff he get up an' say dat you was a very nice gen'elman,"went on Rufe, "an' dat Mistah Deacon's evidence was very straight,an' dat dere was only one verdict for dem to give, an' dat he left dematter in dere hands.

  "So dey just talk a bit among demselves, an' den de foreman, old AbeMizell, he get up and say dat dey was all agreed dat Harvey Blissettwas killed 'cause his skull not so hard as de heel ob his hawse.

  "Den dey hab de bones in, an' I gib evidence." Rufe swelled with pride.

  "What did you say, Rufe?"

  "Dey ask me if I could 'dentify dem dere bones. I say I reckon dey mus'be you's, 'cause I find 'em in among de cinders ob your bed. I couldn'tsw'ar, I tole 'em, because I warn't dar when it happens. I tell 'em Icoming home from courting my gal, an' see de fire an' run; but t'ain'tno good. I too late. All burned up before I get dar. Anyhow, I ain'tseed you since."

  "So they gave it accidental death?"

  "Yes, sah. Dat's what dey said, and said dey was sorry, 'cause you wasa promising young gen'elman."

  "And what did Deacon do?" anxiously inquired Guy.

  "He go round to de record office to get your land put in his name,"chuckled Rufe. "Den I see him ride out on a libery stable hawse."

  Guy roared.

  "I reckon it going to be de wors' shock he ebber get in his life whenyou rides up to de ole place," remarked Rufe presently.

  "I rather expect it will," replied Guy feebly, wiping his eyes. "Comeon, Rufe. There's a train back at twelve-thirty. Just time for dinner,and then the sooner we're home again the better."

  Guy's first task, when he arrived at Pine Lake, was to call on Andersonthe sheriff.

  Anderson, who was fat and fifty, went positively purple at sight of theman upon whom he had held an inquest!

  Guy told him the whole story, all about the quarrel between himself andBlissett, about Deacon's threats and Rufe's plan. The only thing he didnot mention was the fact that Deacon had stolen and sold Blissett'shorse.

  Anderson listened first in amazement, then with amusement, and finallywent off into a fit of laughter.

  "That Rufe's a wonder," he said. "I didn't reckon there was a nigger inFlorida with that much sense. But, look here, young fellow, you've beentaking mighty big liberties with the law. According to law you're dead,and buried, too. What d'ye reckon we're going to do about that?"

  "Don't know, I'm sure, Mr. Anderson. That's what I came to you about,"replied Guy coolly.

  "Reckoned I could fix it for you, eh?" There was a sly twinkle in oldAnderson's eyes. "I guess I'll have to try. But, say, don't you gowasting time in here. Ef that thar cousin o' yours hears as you ain'tas dead as he hed supposed, chances are he'll be getting his gun."

  "All right, sheriff," said Guy. "I'll get along. I am under obligationsto you about the business. I'm afraid it's given you a lot of bother."

  "I ain't kicking," said Anderson dryly. "The State pays my fees for aninquest. Good-by."

  Ten minutes later Guy and Rufe were in a hired buggy, with Dandy in theshafts, spinning lightly homeward over the sandy roads.

  It was dusk when they reached the gate.

  "So you've brought the horse back," came a sharp voice as Rufe pulledup in front of the stable. "A mighty good job you did. Take him out andtie him up. Then you can sling your hook as fast as you like."

  "What for should I git from my boss' land?" asked Rufe with such adelightfully innocent air that Guy, close by under a tree, almostlaughed out loud.

  "Git!" Deacon roared, "or by----"

  A muscular hand gripped him by the back of the neck, and cut short hissentence.

  Deacon squirmed round. His eyes fell on Guy Hereford; he gave a screamlike a woman's, and dropped as if he'd been shot in the head.

  "Now, Oliver," said Guy quietly. "Perhaps you'll be good enough toexplain what the thunder you mean by coming and camping on my property."

  The man rose slowly to his feet, and his eyes were venomous. "So youtricked me," he ground out between clinched teeth.

  "Well, I rather think we did. Rufe and I between us," replied Guycoolly.

  Deacon burst into a storm of furious invective. He cursed Guy byeverything he could think of. At last he wound up.

  "You needn't think you've got the best of me. I'll raise the countryagainst you. They'll have to have one inquest over again. I'll see theyhave both. I don't care what happ
ens to me. I'll see you hung yet. Iswear it."

  Guy waited until the other stopped, exhausted.

  Then he said very quietly: "Oliver, what's the punishment for horsestealing? Five years' penitentiary, isn't it? I think that's theminimum."

  It was quite enough. Deacon went white as ashes.

  "Listen to me," said Guy with sudden sternness. "If you're anywhere inOrange County this time to-morrow I'll denounce you for stealing andselling Harvey Blissett's horse."

  Without another word Deacon slunk off into the gloom.

  Guy never again set eyes upon him, for less than six months later theruffian was killed in a brawl with a Cuban cigar maker.