CHAPTER X.
ON THE TRAIL.
It looked as though Bangs, in carrying out his plot to secure thechest, had overreached himself in one important particular. Theexpressman he hired to carry the iron chest to the house in St. PetersStreet had a stand near the railroad station, close to the levee, andit was here that Matt and Dick found him.
Prudence in carrying out his treachery should have made Bangs waryabout hiring an expressman who could be found so easily. However, Bangshad probably but little time to spare, and no doubt he expected to beaway from the St. Peters Street house before any one could suspect whathe was up to and follow him there.
"You're the fellow who came to Stuyvesant Dock about half-past ten thismorning and took away an iron chest, aren't you?" inquired Dick, facingthe expressman.
"Ah reckons you-all's got de wrong pig by de ear, boss," said thedarky. "Ah didn't tote no iron chest fo' nobody."
"Stow it!" cried Dick, looking at the man keenly. "You're the swab, allright."
"Positive of it, Dick?" put in Matt.
"I'd take my solemn Alfred he's the man!"
"Then," went on Matt, quietly, "Bangs has probably paid him somethingto keep still! I'll watch him, Dick, while you go and get a policeman."
At that, the darky rolled up the whites of his eyes, and showed othersigns of trepidation.
"Hol' up dar, cap'n," he called to Dick, who had started away. "Doan'go an' hurry off daterway. Mebby Ah was de feller. What ob it?"
"Now you're talking sensibly," said Matt. "Do you remember where youtook the chest?"
"Ah doan jis' riccolect," the negro answered, scratching his woollyhead. "Ah wisht Ah did, sah, if it would be any help t' yo, but mahmem'ry is dat sho't Ah done kain't seem tuh remembah nuffin'."
This was so plainly a falsehood that Matt turned to Dick.
"Go on after the officer, Dick," said he. "This fellow don't intend toplay fair with us. Perhaps we can take him to jail and make him talk."
"Wait, dar!" cried the darky. "You-all is so quick tuh go off an dosomefin'. Yassuh, Ah reckons Ah kin remembah de place. Hit was inToulouse Street. Ah'll take yo' dar if yo' wants tuh go."
"We'll go," answered Matt. "Get into the wagon, Dick."
The darky drove over his former course, but instead of keeping on toSt. Peters he turned to the left at Toulouse, and brought up before abuilding two blocks from Royal.
"Dar's de bery place," said he, pointing to the building with his stumpof a whip.
Matt had one of his swift "hunches" that the darky was still trying tofool them.
"You stay here with him, Dick," said he, starting to get down from thewagon. "It won't take me long to find out whether or not the chest isin that house. If it isn't there, we'll know we haven't been brought tothe right place, and then we can call in the officer."
"Ah reckon yo' bettah sot right down ag'in, boss," said the expressmanto Matt. "Dishyer ain't de place. Hit's on St. Peters Street, an' distime I'll take yo' dar, hones'. 'Clar tuh goodness, Ah nebber seen sichfellers as you-all tuh stick an' hang. Now, den, we's goin' tuh deright place."
He started up his mules again.
"You're going to run foul of a lot of trouble if you keep trying tofool us," warned Dick.
"Ah ain't gwine tuh try hit no mo'," returned the darky, earnestly.
"How much did Bangs give you to keep still about that iron chest?"queried Matt.
"Bangs?" echoed the darky. "Whaffur yo' call him Bangs, boss? Datfeller's name is Proctor."
"Well, Proctor, then. How much did he give you?"
"He done gib me five dollahs. Yo' ain't expectin' tuh take hit awayfrom me, is yo'?"
"If we find you're still trying to fool us," answered Matt, severely,"we'll not only have the money taken from you, but your license, aswell."
"Ah's gwine tuh do de right thing now, boss," was the earnest response."You-all kin bank on dat."
A little later he stopped at the right place, and Matt and Dick gotdown from the wagon. The praline woman had repaired the damage Carl hadcaused her stock in trade and was still in the doorway.
"How long have you been here, aunty?" Matt asked, dropping a quarter inthe negress' lap.
"All day, boss," was the answer.
"Did you see a man and a boy go in here with a big iron box?"
"'Deed Ah did, sah!" said the woman, vehemently. "De fat boy doneslipped on de walk an' squashed down en mah basket ob pralines. I waspaid fo' dat, dough, an' dey went on into de house."
"The trail's getting hot," spoke up Dick.
"Who lives in the house?" asked Matt.
"M'sieu Rigolette."
Matt turned and pulled a bell at the door. After a minute or two someone came out on an iron balcony over the door and looked down. It wasthe creole gentleman, still in his bare feet and wearing his tatteredtrousers and flannel shirt. There was a wild, apprehensive look in hisface, and he would have withdrawn as suddenly as he had appeared ifDick had not caught sight of him and given a yell.
"Ahoy there, you!"
"Vat you vant?" came the query.
"Your name Rigolette?"
"_Oui_--yes. Why?"
"Come down here," said Matt. "We want to talk with you."
"I haf done nozzing wrong," returned Rigolette, in a whining,apologetic voice.
"We don't say you have," answered Matt, fully convinced now thatsomething unusual had taken place in the house, "and all we want you todo is to come down and talk with us."
The fellow disappeared from the balcony and presently showed himself inthe door.
"Vat eet ees?" he inquired.
There was fear in his shifty eyes as he flashed them over Matt and Carl.
"Is there a man named Townsend in your house?" returned Matt.
"_Non_--no. Zere ees no man lak dat.'
"A man named Jurgens, then?"
Rigolette started and hunched his shoulders.
"No, Jurgens ees not here, m'sieu."
"He's talking double, Matt," struck in Dick; "I can see it in his eyes."
"Zere ees no sooch man," cried Rigollette, "_non_, I swear eet!"
"Or Proctor?"
Rigolette quailed under Matt's steady look. The creole, with a groan,flung out his hands.
"_Oui_--yes," he murmured, "zey was here, _mais_ not no more. Zat eesze trut'."
"Where are they? And where is the German boy who came with Proctor? Andthe iron chest they brought with them?"
"Zat ees ze puzzle--ze riddle, wat you call. Ze chest, ah, ha, I showheem; _mais_ ze boy, Proctair an' Jurgens, zey haf gone. One by onezey go, run down ze stairs lak ze wild man, zen t'roo de court and outze door, and away. Zey was cr-r-razy, an' zey keel ze P'tit Joujou!"Rigolette wrung his hands. "Ze P'tit Joujou," he wailed.
"The more he talks," said Dick, "the less we know."
"Take us to the chest," ordered Matt, turning to the creole.
"Zen _allons_!" returned the owner of the house. "I haf done nozzingwrong, for I be ver' good Frenchmans, creole Frenchmans," he calledover his shoulder.
"Something has happened, we can be jolly sure of that, matey," remarkedDick, moving along at Matt's side.
"That's an easy guess, Dick," said Matt. "The question is, what'shappened?"
In the court the creole paused beside a black shape lying on theground. It was a monkey, and the monkey, as could be seen at a glance,was dead. Its hairy arms were embracing the head of Obboney, holding itin such a position that the beady eyes stared upward into the faces ofthe boys.
"Wow-whoosh!" gulped Dick, starting back. "Keelhaul me if I ever sawanything like that before. Br-r-r! It sends the cold shivers up anddown my spine. What do you make of it, Matt?"
Matt, an odd, uncanny feeling racing through him, bent down andexamined the head.
"It looks like the head of some heathen idol, Dick," he replied. "Whatkilled the monkey, Rigolette?" he asked.
"Zat I do not know, m'sieu," whimpered the creole. "Ze poor P'titJoujou!"
"I
smell something that's powerful strong," observed Dick, lifting hishead and sniffing. "Don't you, mate?"
"Yes," said Matt, "and it's something that makes me dizzy. Where didthat head come from, Rigolette?"
"Me, I do not know, m'sieu. Ze hor-r-rible head! Ou, ai, I don't likezat to be here, but I plenty scare' to take heem away from ze P'titJoujou."
"Well," and Matt turned away, "where's the chest? Take us to the chest,Rigolette."
The creole led the way to the stairs and up to the room on the firstbalcony.
"Here ees w'ere zey breeng ze chest," said he, "an' zere you see heem."
With the last words he stepped into the room and pointed.
The chest, with the lid thrown back, lay to one side of the room. Nearit was the pile of sawdust. Dick, catching sight of something near theheap of sawdust, stepped forward and picked the object up.
"Carl's cap!" exclaimed Matt.
"Right-o!" returned Dick. "But why should the cap be here and not Carl?We're in deep waters, matey. Look at that raffle of cord on the floor.Some one's been tied, here, and slipped the lashings. Sink me, but itmust have been Carl!"
Matt whirled on the creole.
"Did Proctor and Jurgens make the boy a prisoner?" he demanded.
"I know nozzing, m'sieu," replied the creole; "I haf done nozzingwrong."
"Did you----"
Just at that moment a door opened--a door opposite the one leading uponthe gallery that overlooked the court.
"Bangs!" shouted Dick, pointing to a wild figure that appeared in thedoorway.
With a snarl like that of an angry panther, the figure turned andleaped for an open window. Matt and Dick both sprang in pursuit.
Motor Matt's Queer Find; or, The Secret of the Iron Chest Page 10