Motor Matt's Mandarin; or, Turning a Trick for Tsan Ti

by Stanley R. Matthews

  CHAPTER IX.

  TRICKED ONCE MORE.

  Matt and McGlory were bruised and sore. They were also pretty tired.From the moment they had met Tsan Ti on the mountainside that morning,they had been knocked about from pillar to post.

  "If trouble will please hold off for a couple of hours," said McGlory,"I'll give a good imitation of a fellow snatching his forty winksand getting ready for another round. What do you say, Matt? Themandarin isn't here. He may come, but I wouldn't bet on it, as I'msort of losing faith in the yellow boy with the red button. He has adisagreeable habit of getting out from under whenever anything goeswrong, and we find ourselves stalled. I reckon, though, you'll want tostay here and give him a chance to blow in?"

  "We can hold on here for two or three hours," answered Matt, "take abath, and a rub down, and a bit of a rest, then fasten our clothestogether with a supply of safety pins and motor back to Catskill andget another outfit of clothes from our grips. Then, after a goodnight's sleep, we'll go to Purling."

  "No matter whether the mandarin shows up or not?"

  "No matter what the mandarin does, Joe. I've worked up a big interestin that Eye of Buddha, and I'm going to find out whether it's a fairshake or a myth."

  "I'll bet all my share of the a?roplane money against two bits that wenever see the old hatchet boy again, and also that something hits usbefore we can get back to Catskill."

  "You're guessing, Joe."

  "Well, that's my chirp, in anything from doughnuts to double eagles.That Jackson party might as well hang that wrecked bubble in a tree asa memento--the man with the rice fields and the tea plantations, and soon, has started for the high timber just to dodge paying for that pileof scrap down the trail."

  "You're wrong," said Matt confidently.

  "Wait till the cards are all on the table, pard, and then we'll see."

  They had a most refreshing bath and a long rest in a couple oflazy-back chairs on an upper veranda. Orders had been left with theclerk that word should be brought to them at once if Tsan Ti put in anappearance.

  McGlory awoke from a drowse to unbosom himself of a subject which hadnot, as yet, claimed its proper share of attention.

  "The fellow who came up the mountain and told Jackson there was aburning car piled by the roadside," said he, "said there were twoChinamen watching the conflagration. Think chink number two was KienLung with another yellow cord, Matt?"

  "No."

  "Then who was he?"

  "I've been thinking that it was Sam Wing, the San Francisco Chinaman,who has been keeping track of the two thieves for the mandarin."

  "That's you!" exclaimed McGlory. "Why, I never thought of that darkhorse. Have you any notion he coaxed the mandarin away on importantbusiness?"

  "That's likely."

  "Anything's likely. For instance, it's quite likely the fat Chinaman isa washee-washee boy from 'Frisco with a fine, large imagination, andthat he's stringing us."

  "Why should he want to do that?"

  "No _sabe_, but there's a lot of things we can't _sabe_ concerning thislayout."

  "Tsan Ti has money----"

  "He showed us all of a hundred in double eagles. But did he let us getour hands on the coin? Not any. He allows, in his large and offhandway, that he has millions of taels--but that may be one of his tales,"and McGlory grinned.

  "Anyhow," said Matt doggedly, "we ride to Purling to-morrow and see theman at the general store."

  Matt fell into a drowse again. No one from the office came to announcethe arrival of Tsan Ti, and when the hour arrived for the evening mealthe boys had their supper sent to their room. They were not arrayedproperly for "dining out."

  Following the meal they patched up their garments with safety pins,settled their bill, and walked over to the Mountain House garage. Duskwas falling as they trundled their machines into the road and lightedtheir lamps.

  "We'll have an easier time of it going down the mountain," said Matt,"than we had coming up."

  "Don't be so sure, pard," answered McGlory. "There are a number ofthings to trouble us besides the road."

  "Don't cross any trouble bridges until you come to them, Joe," advisedMatt.

  The motor boys were feeling a little stiff and sore, but their engineswere humming cheerfully, and there was a joy for them in the downwardspin through the woods.

  They remembered the tree root, and slowed down for it as it came undertheir headlights; and they also remembered the location of the wreckedautomobile and gave it a wide berth.

  At about the place where they had encountered the one-eyed sailor, witheverything going smoothly and a fair prospect of reaching Catskill inrecord time, the crack of a firearm suddenly split the still air to theleft of the road. Startled, they clamped on the brakes and came to ahalt in time to hear a shrill cry of "Help! help!" ringing out weirdlyfrom the dark woods.

  "Sufferin' hold-ups!" murmured McGlory. "And here we are with nothingmore than a couple of jack-knives to our names."

  "What do you suppose it can be?" asked Matt, dropping the bracket fromhis rear wheel and letting the motor cycle stand in the road.

  He moved off toward the left and listened.

  "There's a row on in there," declared McGlory. "I can hear some onepounding around in the timber."

  "So can I," said Matt. "We've got to do what we can, Joe. That may meanrobbery--or worse. Come on!"

  The generous instincts of the motor boys prompted them to go at once tothe assistance of a possible victim, and they hurried into the timber.The sounds of scuffling which they had heard died out suddenly, andwhile they were moving around through the gloom, trying to locate thescene of the trouble, there reached their ears the chug-chugging ofmotors getting under way.

  "Our motor cycles!" exclaimed Matt, darting back toward the road.

  "Gad-hook it all!" cried McGlory; "it was a frame-up! A trick to runoff our wheels!"

  Although they were only a few moments regaining the road, the lamps ofthe two motor cycles were gleaming more than a hundred feet away.

  "Stop!" yelled Matt, racing down the road.

  His answer was a raucous laugh--such a laugh as they had heard before.And then came the words, bellowed hoarsely:

  "Leave the Eye o' Buddha alone!"

  After that silence, during which the gleaming lamps turned an angle inthe road and were blotted from sight.

  "Seems to me," said McGlory grimly, "I've heard that voice before."

  Motor Matt did not reply at once. Perhaps his feelings were too deepfor words.

  "And I was expecting something, too!" said the cowboy, in a spasm ofself-reproach. "Sufferin' easy marks! Matt, some of the stuff fromthose glass balls must still be playing hob with our brains. Otherwise,how is it these backsets keep happening in one, two, three order? Therego a pair of motor bikes that'll stand us in four hundred good bigcart wheels. That was right, what you said before we left those wheelsand flocked into the timber. That shot and those sounds of a scuffle_did_ mean robbery. That's a lesson for us never to help a person indistress. Likewise it's a hint that we'd better pull out and leave themandarin to manage his own troubles."

  "It's a hint that we'd better go to Purling to-morrow and look forGrattan," and there was an unwonted sharpness in Motor Matt's voicethat caused McGlory to straighten up and take notice.

  "When you tune up that way," said the cowboy, "it means mischief. Therewas another man with the Hottentot. Do you think the _hombre_ was thisGrattan sharp?"

  "No. Grattan is expecting the sailor at Purling to-morrow. This wassome one else."

  "The ruby thieves have quite an extensive gang. It's walk for us, fromhere to Catskill."

  "From here to the first farmhouse," corrected Matt. "We'll get some oneto take us to Catskill with a horse and buggy."

  He bit off his words crisp and sharp, which, to McGlory, proved howdeeply he resented the scurvy trick by which they had been lured awayfrom the motor cycles.

  "How easy it is to understand things when you look back at' em,"
philosophized the cowboy, swinging along at Matt's side, down the darkroad. "The webfoot and his pal fired that shot and raised a yell forhelp, then they jumped up and down in the bushes, and the result hadall the effect of a knock-down and drag-out. One-Eye must have had usspotted, and he and his pal were lingering in the trailside brush,watching for our headlights. Oh, yes, it was easy. The 'illustriousones' tumbled over themselves to fall into the trap. If I had that----"

  "There's a farmhouse," said Matt, and indicated a point of light closeto the foot of the mountain. "Nearly every house in these parts iseither a boarding house or a hotel. We can get a rig, all right, I'mpretty sure."