CHAPTER XII.
M'GLORY'S RUN OF LUCK.
Joe McGlory, judging from the way fortune had turned her back on himduring his whole life, was positive that he had not been born "undera lucky star." It was more likely, he thought, that he had been bornunder the Dipper, and that the Dipper was upside down at the time.Yet, be that as it might, luck had never had much to do with McGlory.Whatever he got came to him always by hard knocks and persistentgrubbing. But there was a bright lining to the cloud, and this liningwas making ready to show itself.
He sat impatiently on the stern thwarts of the _Sprite_, while Mattwas doing his reconnoitring on the house boat, waiting impatiently forhim to return and report. Ping was forward at the steering wheel ofthe launch, feeling casually and with a certain amount of awe of everylever that manipulated the motor and the gear.
The little _Sprite_ was completely dwarfed by the larger boat alongsideof which she cuddled, like a young duck under the lee of its mother,and the gloom of the higher bulwarks overshadowed McGlory and Ping.
From time to time, the cowboy stood up and looked across the cockpit ofthe _San Bruno_ toward the house boat. He saw Matt's head silhouettedin the light from the cabin window, and finally he saw him move awayand vanish from sight behind the raised forward deck of the largermotor boat.
After that, McGlory champed the bit, and waited. As is usual in suchcases, the seconds dragged like minutes, and the minutes were likehours. The cowboy finally made up his mind that something had gonewrong, and that he ought to investigate.
This feeling grew upon him until he could stand it no longer. Creepingforward to where Ping was caressing the steering wheel, he pausedbeside him for a moment.
"Motor Matt's been gone so long, Ping," said he, in a low tone, "thatI'm afraid he has struck on a snag. If that's so, it's up to me toflock over to the house boat and do my little best to get him out oftrouble. Savvy?"
"Heap savvy," replied Ping. "By Klismus, China boy go 'long. Mebbysoyou makee fall in tlouble, China boy savee you, savee Matt, saveeevelbody. Huh?"
"Never you mind about Matt and me, Ping," returned McGlory. "You stayright here--and stop fooling with that machinery, too. First thing youknow you'll have the _Sprite_ turning a summerset, and that would beabout the worst thing that could happen to us. Stay right here, mind,and wait until you hear from Matt or me before you budge."
"Awri'," said Ping meekly.
McGlory crawled over the hood, got aboard the _San Bruno_, and thenstepped softly to the deck of the house boat.
A quick look around revealed the fact that Motor Matt was not inevidence. Slipping forward along the port alley, the cowboy took ahasty look through the lighted window. The three men were smoking, andin close converse, but McGlory was more interested in locating MotorMatt, just then, than in anything else.
Instead of returning toward the after end of the house boat, he passedon to the patch of deck at the forward end--and was thus out of thewhirl of excitement that was turned on at the rear of the craft.
The yell given by Kinky when he lifted the trap in the floor of thecabin and caught a glimpse of Matt reached McGlory's ears almost assoon as he had gained the wider deck at the end of the boat. Almostimmediately he heard the scramble inside the cabin, and then the rushof feet aft.
He hesitated for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. Matt had gotinto trouble, all right, but had he gotten out of it?
Stepping quickly to a door which led directly into the lighted frontroom of the cabin, McGlory softly turned the knob and pushed the dooropen. The room was empty. A trap in the floor was open, and also a doorleading into a dark room beyond. From somewhere farther aft came angryvoices and more sounds of scuffling.
"That means me, I reckon," thought the cowboy, rushing across thelighted room and into the darker chamber farther on. It was hisintention to keep going and find out just what the struggle he had beenhearing might mean, and to do what he could for Motor Matt; but heheard a sound behind him, just as he gained the darkness of the rearroom, which caused him to halt, turn cautiously, and peer backward.
A tall, gangle-legged individual, with a mustache the color of driedbuffalo grass, a nose like a wart and eyes that looked like a coupleof wilted cactus blossoms, had entered the door which McGlory had leftopen.
The manner of this person aroused the cowboy's interest and curiosity.If he was one of the gang, what was he doing there? And why was heacting in such a stealthy manner, as though in a hurry and fearing tobe apprehended?
McGlory, for a moment, curbed his desire to hurry on to the rear of thehouse boat and stood and watched the stranger from the safe screen ofdarkness.
The man was looking for something, that was plain. Dropping to hisknees, he reached under a bench at one side of the room. What he wantedwasn't there. He turned to the bench on the other side and gave anexultant grunt as he pulled a satchel from under it.
After flashing a wary look around him, he opened the satchel withtrembling fingers and drew forth a package of banknotes that madeMcGlory stagger.
Money! George Lorry's money!
That is what the cowboy thought on the instant. With another jubilantgrunt, the stranger snapped the satchel shut and faded through thefront door. McGlory was about two seconds making up his mind, and thenfaded after him.
The man was out of sight when the cowboy reached the deck at theforward end of the boat. Heavy feet were coming through the dark roomof the cabin, and McGlory knew it was hardly safe for him to stand inthe exposed position where he had placed himself.
Wondering where the man had gone with the satchel and the money, hestepped around the corner of the cabin into the starboard passage--andsaw the man just dodging around the opposite corner, on the after deck.
"That's where I nail him!" thought McGlory, moving softly and swiftlyalong the alley.
As he passed the lighted window on that side of the cabin a curtain wasjerked down, and a door was slammed. Following this, a key grated in alock. Then another door was slammed and another key grated.
The cowboy hesitated, trying to guess whether all that had anything todo with the man who was making off with the satchel. Unable to reachany conclusion, and convinced that his duty lay in following the man,McGlory moved noiselessly onward.
The light on the upright staff of the houseboat cast a faint glow onthe after deck, and here McGlory saw the man he was following again onhis knees and examining the packet of bills.
In two jumps the cowboy was on the man's back.
"Steady!" he hissed in the man's ear.
The fellow began to struggle; and then, in a flash, the cowboyremembered the revolver he had snatched out of his cousin's hand andslipped into his pocket. In a twinkling he had the weapon out of thepocket--and commanded the situation.
"Don't shoot!" whined the man. "Great guns, I ain't done anythin' to_you_."
"Put that bunch of green goods back into the grip," ordered McGlory.
"Thar she goes," said the man, letting the packet fall into the satchel.
"Now give the grip a shove," continued McGlory, "so it'll be closerto where I'm standing. That's the idea," he added, as the bag camesliding toward him. "Now, pardner, I've got the money and you've gotthe experience, and things are looking real fine. Who are you, anyhow?"
"Landers," said the man. "I'm in charge o' this boat for Big John."
"Big John, eh? I wonder if that's my friend, Mr. Smith, otherwiseRed-whiskers?"
"That's him," answered Landers, "but you ain't no friend o' his, I'llgamble."
"Ain't I?" queried McGlory humorously.
"You're a detective, an' you've come here to bag Big John an' themother coves. But you don't need to bag me. I was only gettin' the moneyto turn it over to the police."
"Oh, speak to me about that!" chuckled McGlory.
"Look out behind ye!" whispered Landers hoarsely. "Big John is----"
McGlory turned. As he did so, Landers fell off the house boat and intothe cockpit of the _San Bruno_.
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"Ain't I easy?" grumbled McGlory, marking a half run across the deckin the direction of the launch. "No," he muttered, "I won't do that,either. I've got the ten thousand plunks belongin' to Uncle Dan, and Iguess I'll freeze onto 'em. Matt needs me, I reckon. With the grip inone hand and George's pepper box in the other, I'll walk through thecabin and see what I can do for this new pard of mine."
The rear door of the cabin was unlocked. McGlory passed through it andgroped his way in the dark to the other door.
He had barely reached the door when another commotion assailed hisears, accompanied by loud voices. The voices were so loud, in fact,that the cowboy could hear distinctly all that was said.
Big John had just discovered the loss of the satchel, and a violentscene was threatening. Then came the popping of the motor, and the rushto get out of the cabin and pursue Landers.
McGlory, beginning to understand what had happened and how the thieveshad been fooled, leaned against the wall of the cabin and sputteredwith merriment.
"Speak to me about luck, will you?" he gasped. "This is once, anyhow,that I've got the winning number. I reckon it's because I'm hooked upwith Motor Matt."
He tried the bulkhead door, but found it locked. With a sudden thought,he returned to the other door, took the key he found there from thelock and tried it in the lock of the bulkhead door. It worked like acharm, and McGlory, satchel in one hand and revolver in the other,pushed into the lighted room.
At the very least, he was expecting to find Motor Matt on the floor,tied hand and foot. McGlory's astonishment was great, therefore, whenhe discovered that Matt was not in the room. A form stood just outsidethe door, on the forward deck, vaguely outlined in the darkness.
It was Matt, there was no doubt about it. Thoughts of the way eventshad shaped themselves to befool the thieves rushed over the cowboyagain, and once more he dropped against the side of the cabin. Heexploded a laugh that brought Matt into the room at a double quick, andheld him, just inside the door, staring as though at a ghost.
"McGlory!" muttered Matt, rubbing his eyes.
"Keno, correct--and more, much more. It's McGlory, Matt, and McGlory'sgot the _dinero_. Come to me, put your little hand in mine for a goodshake, and let's felicitate. This will be happy news for Cousin George!"
Motor Matt's Launch; or, A Friend in Need Page 12
