CHAPTER XIV.
AN ASTOUNDING SITUATION.
From his appearance, the expressman was not feeling at all easy in hismind. His knees were knocking together, the candle was shaking in hishand, his teeth were chattering, his eyes were rolling frenziedly, anda grayish pallor had overspread his black face.
"Ah's got de feelin' dat Ah's er gone niggah," he mumbled. "Da's right,cap'n. Ah's done seen t'ings, dis ebenin', dat Ah ain't nevah gwine tuhgit ober."
"You got the five hundred?" asked Townsend.
"Sho'ly, sho'ly. En Ah's er hones' niggah er Ah'd nevah come hyeh aftehwhat Ah seen."
"Did you have the key?"
"Whistler got de key away f'om me, along endurin' de aftehnoon, cap'n;but I come hyeh en Ah--Ah done got it back, but Ah mos' died a-doin'it. Oh, by golly, hit's de wustest t'ing Ah evah did!"
"You didn't have to kill Whistler to get the key, did you?" went onTownsend, startled by the darky's fright.
"No, no, boss, Ah ain't dat kind."
"Where's Whistler?"
"He's heah----"
"Here!"
"Da's whut! En Jurgens is heah, en anudder white man--dey's all heah."
"Where are they? What are they doing? Can't they overhear us?"
Townsend fired his questions like the reports of a Gatling, meanwhilelooking about him as though to fight whatever peril might show itself.
"You ain't got tuh feah dem no mo', cap'n," went on the darky. "Ah tookde key f'om Whistler, en he didn't stop me--he wasn't able. I's feelin'monsus out ob sorts wif mahse'f, en now dat Ah's let you-all loose,Ah's gwine tuh cl'ar out. Take de candle if you want tuh stay heah, butAh's gwine."
The darky forced the candle into Townsend's hand and whirled away.
"Hold up!" cried Townsend. "Don't be in such a rush. Tell us what----"
But the negro was gone, clattering across the floor of an outer roomand rushing down the outside stairs.
"What do you suppose put him in that kind of a taking, mates?" askedDick.
"It puzzles me," answered Townsend.
"Suppose we look around," said Matt.
They were in the dark room in which Matt and Dick had had their shortstruggle at close quarters with Whistler and his man. Dick opened thedoor on the right. It led into the room that opened upon the outsidestairs. The door at the head of the stairs was ajar, and the releasedprisoners could see that dusk had fallen outdoors.
"Nothing in this direction, mates," announced Dick. "Try that otherdoor next to you, Matt."
Matt opened the door, and instantly a peculiar odor was perceptible.
"We've sniffed that before, Matt," said Dick.
"I remember it," returned Matt; "it was in the court of Rigolette'shouse. I wonder what it can be, and how we are able to smell it here?"
Shielding the flaring candle with his hand, Matt stepped into theother room. In doing so he stumbled against something on the floor andstooped downward.
It was the form of Jurgens!
As Matt recoiled, startled cries came from Townsend and Dick.
"Three of 'em, or I'm a Hottentot!" exclaimed Dick. "Look, will you!And there's the head of Obboney!"
Dick's report was literally true. Lying sprawled about the floor,breathing heavily, was not only Jurgens, but Whistler and one otherman, as well. They lay around the idol's head, and the head, faceupward, offered a most diabolical spectacle in the candlelight.
The beady eyes gleamed and glittered, and the distorted face took on anexpression it had not held in the broad light of day.
"Most remarkable!" murmured Townsend, stepping over the form of Jurgensand picking up the head. "What a monstrous thing!" he added, shudderingas he held the head up and looked into its face. "What heathen mindwas ever able to conjure that out of a block of wood? The arch fiendhimself must have had a hand in the work."
"But how do you account for all this layout?" queried Dick, waving hishand at the forms on the floor.
"Jurgens, after he took the head from the court of Rigolette's house,"surmised Matt, "must finally have reached here with it. He arrivedafter you and I were thrown into the vault, Dick, and that unknown man,lying near Whistler, must have been the one who helped put us into thestone chamber. Jurgens, Whistler and the other man came into this room,and in due course they fell under the baneful spell of Obboney. I don'tknow what else to call it."
"That's the way of it, Matt," said Townsend; "that must have been theway of it. When the negro came here, he found these men sprawled out,just as we see them now. Negroes as a rule are superstitious, and youcan understand what a tremendous effort it must have taken for thatdarky to step across Jurgens, pass this head and take the key of thevault from Whistler's pocket! No wonder the fellow was half scared todeath! It speaks pretty well for him that he dared to do what he didand earn the five hundred I asked Cassidy to give him."
"A main fine thing for us," remarked Dick, "that he had nerve enoughfor the job."
"There must be something about this head that is valuable," mutteredTownsend. "It would not have been in that chest if it wasn't valuable.Still, I can't understand why the Man from Cape Town should want thechest opened and the idol's head revealed before a woman. Why, thisthing is enough to send a woman into hysterics."
"He had a scheme," said Dick, "but shiver me if I can fathom it."
"I'm beginning to feel a bit queer in the head," spoke up Matt. "Iwonder if I only imagine it?"
"No imagination about it, matey," declared Dick. "I'm feeling somequeer myself."
"I don't see why we should," said Townsend. "What is there about thishead to exert such an evil influence?"
"There must be something," returned Matt, "to stretch out fellows likeWhistler and Jurgens as we see them."
"Whoosh!" exclaimed Dick. "Hear 'em breathe! Their breath seems to becoming harder and harder. I wonder if that odor could kill a man?"
"It must have killed the monkey," said Matt. "If it would kill ananimal in that way, I don't see why it wouldn't kill a man."
"Have you that paper that was found in the chest, Matt?" asked Townsend.
"Yes."
"Read it to me."
Matt drew the parchment from his pocket and stepped closer to thecandle which, a few moments before, he had handed to Dick.
Then, while he read the written words, Townsend kept his keen,inquiring eyes on the idol's head.
"It may be," observed Townsend, when the reading was finished, "thatthere is a hidden meaning in that communication. The question is, whatis that hidden meaning? Does it deal with high finance, or thaumaturgy,or any of the other arts, black or white, with which princes of theblack art are supposed to arm themselves? Ha! Answer me, some of you."
Matt gave a jump and stared at Dick. Dick, also startled, returnedMatt's stare with interest.
Townsend was talking nonsense--and he was always a grave, earnest manwith no use whatever for anything foolish or extravagant.
Was the deadly odor taking effect upon his brain?
Holding the head as Hamlet held the skull of Yorick, Townsend struck anattitude.
"Alas, poor Yorick!" he began.
But he got no further.
Just at that moment some one bounded into the room, snatched the headof Obboney from his hands and hurled it against the wall.
There was a smash, a tinkling clatter as of pebbles upon the floor,then silence.
"Ged oudt oof here! ged oudt or you vas all deadt men! Helup me,Matt, to pull dose fellers on der floor indo der odder room. Ach,himmelblitzen! you don'd know vat a shance you vas daking. Aber _I_know--yah, so helup me!"
"Carl!" gasped Matt, staggering toward the Dutch boy.
"You bed you," answered Carl. "Ged Downsent avay, kevick! Tick, you dodot. Matt und I vill look afder der fellers on der floor."
Motor Matt's Queer Find; or, The Secret of the Iron Chest Page 14