CHAPTER V.
MATT GETS A JOB.
"What's the trouble here?" asked the deputy sheriff. "I hear thatMatt King and the Dutchman brought you to town in an automobile, Mr.Tomlinson, and that you have been robbed."
"Not robbed," replied Tomlinson. "I was shot at, and wounded slightly,but the car was too fast for the thieves and I got away."
"Where 'bouts was this?"
"About twenty miles west of Ash Fork. I don't think it would do you anygood to go after the rascals, though."
"I reckon not. They're prob'ly a good long ways from where they triedto hold you up. You wasn't hurt very bad, eh?"
"It wasn't serious at all. I feel pretty weak, but I'll soon get overthat. It's necessary for me to go on to Flagstaff to-night, or earlyto-morrow morning."
"You'd better rest up for three or four days, anyhow, Mr. Tomlinson,"admonished the doctor.
"Haven't the time. As I told you, there's a friend waiting for me atFlagstaff." Tomlinson's tone was decided, and he turned to Matt. "Soyour name is King," he asked, "Matt King?"
"Yes," answered the young motorist.
"Are you the Motor Matt I've been hearing about, down Phoenix way?"
"I've been living in Phoenix for a while, and that's what they call medown there."
"What are you doing in Ash Fork?"
"Came here looking for a job."
"Good! I need a driver for my car, and will pay you one hundred dollarsa month and expenses. Is it a go?"
Matt jumped at the chance. This was not the job he had been expectingto get, but it seemed fully as good as anything he could pick up in AshFork. Besides, there was a prospect of getting to Denver, and he hadlong had that city in his mind's eye.
"I'll take it," said Matt. "Where do we go after leaving Flagstaff?"
"Right back to Colorado," answered Tomlinson. "I guess this will stopmy knocking around. I went away for my health, and now I'll go back toDenver for the same reason." He took a roll of bills from his pocket,stripped off a twenty-dollar bank-note and handed it to Matt. "Here'ssome money, King," said he. "Look after the Red Flier and have her allready to start early to-morrow morning. How much do I owe you, doctor?"he added.
"Oh, a ten will about square us," answered the doctor, and must havepocketed more money for less work than he had done for some time.
"Help me to the hotel, will you?" asked Tomlinson, of the deputysheriff. "I'm not very steady on my legs, yet."
"Sure," said the officer readily.
"Schust a minid, oof you blease," spoke up Carl. "Oof you vas going toTenver, Misder Domlinson, vat's der madder mit ledding me rite along?Dot's vere I vant to go, und I don'd haf some money to ged dere."
Tomlinson looked Carl over for a moment.
"Well," said he, "I don't know why I shouldn't. I owe you something,anyhow."
Carl brightened perceptibly. He had taken a great liking to Matt, inthe few hours he had known him, and was glad that they were both goingto Denver together.
Tomlinson was assisted out of the office by the deputy sheriff, thedoctor opening the doors obsequiously ahead of them. When the doctorreturned to Matt and Carl he was rubbing his hands and smiling.
"I'll bet you boys don't know what that man is," said he. "Why, he'sone of the biggest wholesale jewelers in the West, and he's got moremoney than you can count. This was a lucky day's work for you."
"Vell," returned Carl grimly, "it don'd open oop like it. He gifs me arite py Tenver for vat I dit, und he gifs Matt a chob like vat he couldged anyvere for der same money. Domlinson iss an olt skinflint."
"Tut, tut," said the doctor reprovingly. "Before you get through withhim you'll find that he does the right thing by you."
"Have you ever seen him before, doctor?" asked Matt.
"No, but I've read a lot about him in the Denver newspapers. You chapsare in for a streak of luck."
"Dot's vat I peen vaidin' for, all righdt," said Carl, as he and Mattleft, "aber I got some hunches dot I'm goin' to keep righdt on vaidin',und being jeerful schust to show vat goot shtuff a Pretzel iss made of."
When they got down on the walk, Carl laid a hand on Matt's arm.
"How vould you like to lend me a leedle more money, Matt?" he asked."You see, I owe a fife-tollar board-pill in town und it iss pedder dotI pay it pefore I hike. I can't gif you nodding but my vort dot I payhim back, shdill you alretty took some chances on me, und you mighdt asvell took a few more."
"There you are, Carl," laughed Matt, handing him the money. "I wouldn'twant you to go along with us if you didn't have your debts paid. I'mgetting a hundred a month, now, and I'll stand back of you until youfind a job of your own."
"You vas a pully poy," answered Carl, "und ve vill be fast friendts solong as you like."
"That suits me," answered Matt heartily, "right up to the handle."
They shook hands cordially, and while Carl went off to square hisboard-bill Matt gave his attention to the Red Flier.
Now that Matt had charge of that fine big car, he was conscious of afeeling of pride as he stood off and surveyed the superb machine. Fromnow on the car was to be under his care, and to run under his hands.Motors were his hobby, particularly gasoline-motors, and he was neverso happy as when he had something to do with them.
He wondered a little why a wealthy wholesale jeweler should betraveling about the Southwest in a touring-car with no more baggagethan Mr. Tomlinson had with him. But that was Mr. Tomlinson's business,and Matt was so wrapped up in the six-cylinder machine that he gavelittle attention to anything else.
His first move was to begin an examination of the car to see thateverything was in proper shape. The cylinders and valves under thehood claimed his first care; then he examined the water-tank, thesparking-apparatus, and finally came to the point where he wanted alook at the gear. This was reached by a trap in the tonneau, and hepulled up a rubber mat in order to get at the opening.
Under the mat he found something besides the trap-door. The object wasa letter, which might have got under the mat by mistake or have beenput there for the purpose of secreting it.
Matt picked the letter up and gave it closer scrutiny. It had passedthrough the mails, and had been posted in Flagstaff several daysbefore. The address, in a scrawling hand, read, "Mr. James Trymore,Brockville, A. T."
Brockville was the next station west of Ash Fork. The address wasevidence enough that the letter did not belong to Tomlinson; but, ifnot, how did it happen to be in the car?
There was a chance that the missive belonged to Tomlinson's chauffeur,who had been left sick at the Needles. Thinking that this was the wayof it, Matt started to put the letter in his pocket. At that moment thedeputy sheriff came across the street from the hotel.
"Well, King," said he jovially, bracing up alongside the car, "you'vefeathered your nest in good shape. Tomlinson is loaded down with moneyand you've done a big thing for him to-day."
"Think so?" queried Matt.
"Wisht I was as sure I was goin' to make a million as I am of that."
"Did you talk with Mr. Tomlinson any?"
"Well, a little."
"Did he tell you the name of his other chauffeur?"
"No, I can't remember that he did."
"Are you acquainted over in Brockville?"
"Know about everybody in the town."
"Who's Trymore, James Trymore?"
The effect of that question on the deputy sheriff was amazing. He gavea jump and his eyes narrowed as they peered at Matt.
"What did you ask me that for?" he demanded.
"Because I wanted to know."
"Look here, son, have you got a line on that feller, or have you jestseen one of the notices?"
"What notices?"
"Why, I got a letter through the mails, from Denver, not more'n threedays ago, saying that a crook named Denny Jerome, otherwise DenverDenny, otherwise James Trymore, had escaped from jail and was believedto be somewhere in this part of the country. How'd you hear about him?"
; Matt was not taking the deputy sheriff into his confidence merely onthat showing. Parrying his curiosity with some offhand remark, Mattpushed the letter into his pocket and went on with his examination ofthe car.
His mind was full of all sorts of surmises. Why should a letteraddressed to a Denver crook be in Mr. Tomlinson's car? Matt began tothink that the day's proceedings, taken all together, had a queer look.Perhaps his new job wasn't going to be as pleasant a one as he hadimagined.
Motor Matt's Mystery; or, Foiling a Secret Plot Page 5
