CHAPTER IV.
MURGATROYD'S FIRST MOVE.
Motor Matt was a keen reader of character. At first glance, and froma distance, he had not liked Hackberry's appearance any too well; andnow, at closer view, he liked it less.
"I am Motor Matt," said he.
"Sho," muttered the horseman; "hit it first clatter out o' the box,didn't I?"
After a cautious look around, he dismounted and thrust his arm throughthe loop of the bridle.
"What I got to say is private," said he, "an' I guess we better go offsome'r's by ourselves."
"We couldn't talk with any more privacy if we were a hundred milesaway. Where are you from, Mr. Hackberry?"
"From over in Wells County. Ye see, I got a claim over there, an'----But say, are ye plumb sure it's safe fer us ter talk? I was warned terlook out fer Siwash Charley an' his friends, and fer any other tinhornsthat might be workin' fer Murgatroyd."
"Who warned you?"
"Mrs. Traquair."
"Then you're from Jamestown?"
"Not much I ain't! Mrs. Traquair ain't in Jimtown. Say, what sort of alookin' feller is this Siwash Charley?"
"Never mind about that just now. Siwash Charley isn't around here, norare any other of Murgatroyd's friends. Tell me how you came to have atalk with Mrs. Traquair?"
"Well, as I was sayin', I got a claim over t'other side o' Sykestown.It jines corners with a homestead Harry Traquair took up--the sameHarry Traquair what mortgaged his quarter section fer enough ter go terJimtown an' build a flyin' machine. Well, I haven't put down a well onmy claim yet, so I gits my drinkin' water from Traquair's claim, thatbein' the nighest. There ain't been any one livin' in Traquair's shackfer a year, an' I was kinder surprised, t'other day, when I seen a manmovin' around the place. I talked with the feller while I was gittin'a bucket o' water, an' he says he's come there ter take keer o' thecrops. He was a tough-lookin' chap, an' I didn't like his looks any toowell, but if Mrs. Traquair had sent him, and he suited her, why, he ortter suit me, too.
"While I was talkin' with the man, me by the pump an' facin' the sideof the house, an' him standin' with his back to the wall, a piece ofpaper was pushed out from between the boards an' dropped down on theground.
"At first I was goin' ter tell the man about it, an' then I allowedit was purty queer--that shack leakin' a piece o' paper through theside that way, an' I held in about it. You know how these claim shacksis built--some of 'em jest throwed tergether, with cracks between theboards big enough ter heave a dog out of.
"Bymby the feller I was talkin' to excused himself an' went inter thehouse. The road I took carried me along the wall, an' as I went by Istooped down an' picked up the paper. There was writin' on it, an' Iwah plumb surprised when I read that writin'. Here, I'll let ye see itfer yerself."
Hackberry dug up a three-cornered scrap of brown paper from the depthsof his pocket, shook some loose tobacco out of it, and handed it toMatt.
Matt managed to make the following out of the hastily written scrawl:
"I have been waiting, Mr. Hackberry, and trying to get word to you. If you see this, and pick it up, it will inform you that I was lured to this place from Jamestown, that I am being kept a prisoner here, and that I must talk with you as soon as possible, or the homestead will be taken away from me. Come quietly to the side of the house, where you picked up this paper, at night. I can whisper to you what I want, and the man who is keeping me a prisoner will never know. You used to be a friend of poor Harry's, so I hope you will help me.
"MRS. TRAQUAIR."
It would have been hard to describe Matt's feelings as he read thispenciled scrawl. It had been a week since he had received a letter fromMrs. Traquair, and the cunning Murgatroyd might have carried out manyunderhand plans in a week!
"Did you go to the house that night, Mr. Hackberry?" asked Matt.
"Did I? Why, o' course I did. Bein' such a friend o' Harry Traquair's,why shouldn't I try ter help his wife? They was allus good neighbors."
"What did Mrs. Traquair say to you?"
"What we said was all whisperin' an' through a knot hole that was brokeout in the wall. She said a feller named Murgatroyd had wanted tergit the homestead away from her, an' that he wasn't goin' ter let hergo back ter her children until she give him a quitclaim deed ter thehundred an' sixty. I told her ter let me go ter Sykestown an' git thedeperty sher'ff, an' that him an' me 'u'd snake her out o' that shacktoo quick. But she wouldn't allow that. 'No,' she says, an' her voicewas that sobbin' an' plaintive it would have moved a heart o' stone;'no,' she says, ''cause then Murgatroyd might hear what was goin' onan' have me took away ter some other place.' She d'ruther have me, shesays, come ter Fort Totten an' give a letter ter Motor Matt. 'He'llknow what ter do,' she says, 'an' he's a lad o' fine sperrit, an' I owehim a lot.' So she poked out this letter, an' I've rid hossback all theway from my shack, an' I been all o' two days makin' the trip."
As he finished, Hackberry dug up the letter from another pocket. It wasinclosed in a soiled yellow envelope and was addressed to "Motor Matt,Fort Totten."
Matt tore off the end of the envelope, and drew out a sheet of paperof the same color as that which Hackberry had already shown him. Theletter was short, but sufficiently startling.
"MY DEAR FRIEND: I have fallen into the hands of Murgatroyd--Mr. Hackberry will tell you where I am. Murgatroyd seems determined to get the homestead. I know you will come to my rescue, but come quickly.
"MRS. TRAQUAIR."
"Anythin' else you want ter know?" asked Hackberry.
"This is terrible!" exclaimed Matt. "I can hardly think even Murgatroydwould do such a thing."
"I don't know nothin' 'bout that. I ain't acquainted none with thisMurgatroyd, but I can tell ye there's some mighty tough citizens inthis here State."
"How in the world could Murgatroyd lure Mrs. Traquair away fromJamestown?"
"Ye got me. Mrs. Traquair didn't say. We didn't talk much more'n we hadto, seein' as how the feller that had charge o' the shack might come inon us at any minit."
"And how," went on Matt, "can Murgatroyd hope to make Mrs. Traquairgive up the claim?"
"I guess he expects ter keep her a pris'ner until she signs thequitclaim."
"A quitclaim deed, secured like that, wouldn't hold in law for aminute! Murgatroyd has loaned enough money to understand that."
"Like enough, but it's some sich game he's tryin', jest the same."
Motor Matt was puzzled. Hackberry's story seemed straight enough, butthere were points about it that made him incredulous.
"What ye goin 'ter do, Motor Matt?" asked Hackberry.
"I'm going to look after Mrs. Traquair," declared Matt.
"Sure! That's what she said ye'd do. Better git a hoss an' ride backwith me."
"It has taken you two days to come, Hackberry. Why didn't you come bytrain?"
"Fer one thing, I didn't have no money. Fer another, I was afearedMurgatroyd might have some spies hangin' around Sykestown, so I dodgedthe place by comin' cross-kentry. I reckon we'd better go back the sameway I come, hey?"
"No, it's too slow. I'll go by train."
Hackberry appeared disappointed.
"What'll I tell Mrs. Traquair?" he asked.
"You'll not be able to tell her anything--I'll get to her homesteadlong before you do. Where is it?"
"Eighteen mile due west o' Sykestown; anybody kin tell ye the placewhen ye git started from Sykestown on the main road. I won't be ableter go with ye, seein' as how I got my hoss ter git back."
"Well, Hackberry, you follow Mrs. Traquair's instructions and saynothing to any one. She evidently knows what it is best to do. I'lllook after her, and after this man Murgatroyd, too. Mrs. Traquair hasmoney, and you'll be well repaid for your trouble."
"Money 'u'd come handy ter me, an' that's a fact," said Hackberry,"though I'd have done this fer Mrs. Traquair if there hadn't bee
n acent comin'. When'll ye start?"
"Just as soon as I can."
"Ye'll go by the way of Sykestown?"
"There's no other way if I go by railroad."
"All right, then. The responsibility is off'n my shoulders an' onteryourn. Good-by."
Hackberry rode off along the road in the direction of the town ofLallie, which lay on his homeward route. Matt, as soon as the messengerhad started, hurried up to the post.
There was a telegraph office there and he sent a couple of messages.One was to Mrs. Harry Traquair, Jamestown, North Dakota, and asked ifshe was well and at home. The other was to a lawyer in Jamestown namedMatthews, with whom Matt had some acquaintance, and requested thelawyer to let him know, at once, whether Mrs. Traquair and Murgatroydwere in Jamestown.
Matt was suspicious of Hackberry, and wanted to be sure of his groundbefore he made any move. At the same time, Matt realized that therewas not a moment to be lost if Mrs. Traquair was really being held aprisoner in the shack on her homestead.
In order to get to Sykestown by train, Matt would have to go toCarrington, change cars, and proceed on the branch to his destination.At the post he learned that there was a train on the branch onlyevery other day. More than that, the train south from Minnewaukon hadleft for that day and there would not be another until the followingmorning. If he waited until morning and took the train, he would be setdown in Carrington on one of the days when the train was not running onthe branch. It seemed as though he was bound to lose at least two daysbefore he could get to Sykestown, and that it might have been better,after all, if he had gone with Hackberry on horseback.
Greatly disturbed, he went back to Camp Traquair and told McGlory thelatest news.
"It's a scheme o' some kind," averred the cowboy. "I'll bet money,pard, you get a telegram from Mrs. Traquair saying she's all right."
But Matt received no message from Mrs. Traquair. He did get one fromMatthews, however, and Cameron brought it down from the post.
Hastily Matt tore open the message and read it.
"Murgatroyd not in town for two weeks; Mrs. Traquair not in town for a week. Can't find where either has gone. MATTHEWS."
Matt believed, then, that Hackberry had told the truth and that theletter was genuine. And so it happened that Murgatroyd's first move inhis rascally game was attended with success.
Motor Matt's Reverse; or, Caught in a Losing Cause Page 4
