CHAPTER III.
CLIP'S NOTE.
"Mighty unsociable, that feller," laughed the cowboy, staring after thevanishing form of the half-breed. "Waal," he added, "it was wuth a heapmore'n a dollar ter hev him corral Ole Beeswax. You boys'll beat meinter Phoenix, easy enough, but I got time ter jog along an' git tharby three. I'm a powerful obliged ter ye fer what ye done, an' if everany o' ye need a friend, jest call on Josh Fresnay. So-long."
Chub and Clip had climbed back into the car. All the boys shouted theirgood-bys to Fresnay, and, after Matt had "cranked up," the car spedaway in the direction of Phoenix.
Clip was silent and preoccupied, and Matt attended quietly to his workof driving the car; but his thoughts were busy. While Welcome jabberedin his usual strain, and Chub flung back an occasional answer, Matt'smind circled about the half-breed and the note.
Matt had recognized the half-breed at the first glance. He was noneother than Pima Pete, and he was an uncle of Clip's. But, what wasinfinitely worse, Pete had been a member of a gang of smugglers headedby the notorious Dangerfield. With a few others, Pima Pete had escapedat the time Dangerfield and most of his gang had been captured. Areward of $1,000 each had been offered for the apprehension of everymember of the lawless outfit, and this offer still held good so far asPima Pete was concerned.
That note which had been smuggled into Clip's hand must have been of agood deal of importance, or Pima Pete would not have run the risk ofcapture in order to deliver it.
When the boys reached town, Clip got out of the car at the pointnearest the place where he roomed, in the Mexican quarter. Chub andWelcome were still in the car, and Clip merely gave Matt a significantlook as he waved a good-by. Matt knew that Clip must be anxious to readthe note and find out what his uncle had to say to him.
Chub and Welcome got out in front of their home, and stood for a momentbeside the car.
"You've shut up like a clam, pard," remarked Chub, with a curious lookat Matt. "What's the matter? Anything gone crossways?"
"What makes you think that, Chub?" laughed Matt. "Don't a fellow everdo a little head-work except when things go crossways?"
"Everybody ain't shootin' off his mouth the hull blessed time like you,Chub," put in Welcome. "Whenever you talk it's like a lot o' wordsrattlin' in a gourd. Now, Matt an' me's some diff'rent. By keepin' mumfer a while, we allers hev somethin' to say whenever we talk."
"Police!" grinned Chub. "Why, Perk, you garrulous old parrot, you cantalk more and say less than any man in Arizona. When'll you be aroundagain, Matt?"
"Oh, I'll drop in on you to-morrow, some time. So-long!"
Matt returned the red roadster to McKibben's barn, where it was beingkept, cleaned it up a little and made sure that everything was allright, then locked the barn door and left the key with Mrs. McKibben.
It was probably half-past four when he reached his boarding-place.As soon as he had dusted his clothes, and paid his respects to thewash-bowl, he dropped into a chair and fell to thinking, once more,about Clip, Pima Pete, and the note.
He had an idea that that note meant trouble for Clip. It was a vaguesort of feeling, but strong enough to make Matt uncomfortable.
Pima Pete had been a lawbreaker, and there was a reward out for him.Being a relative of Clip's, the half-breed was safe so far as Clip andMatt were concerned, but if any one who knew Pima Pete happened to seeClip with him, there might be no end of trouble.
Thoroughly dissatisfied with the course events were taking, and not alittle worried, Matt went down to supper and sat through a half hour ofincessant clatter from his landlady, Mrs. Spooner. When he got up fromthe table he had decided to find Clip at once and get at the contentsof Pima Pete's note. He went to his room after his hat, and when heopened the door there was Clip in a rocking-chair by the window. Thequarter-blood had slipped into the house and up-stairs to the roomwhile Matt had been eating his supper.
"Why, hello, old chap!" exclaimed Matt. "I was just thinking abouthunting you up."
"Hist!" warned Clip. "Not so loud, Matt. Maybe I shouldn't have comehere. But I felt as though I just _had_ to talk with you."
Matt was "stumped." Nevertheless, he was not slow in guessing that PimaPete's note had something to do with Clip's mysterious manner.
"What's wrong, Clip?" queried Matt, lowering his voice and setting achair closer to his chum.
"Matter enough. You saw what happened. When the cowboy got back hishorse, I mean."
"Pima Pete gave you a note."
"That's it. Not much gets away from you, Matt. I was afraid Chub andPerkins might have seen it, too."
"They didn't. I could swear to that."
"You remember what Dangerfield said when he was captured? That therewas something he wanted you to do?"
Matt knitted his brows. He had not forgotten that.
"I remember it, Clip," said he; "and I remember, too, that I was tohear about the work through Pima Pete."
"Well, Pima Pete came to me. We're of the same blood, as you know." Asusual, whenever he mentioned his mixed blood, a savage defiance blazedin Clip's face. "I reckon that's why Pete came to me. It would be easyfor any one who knew him to give him away."
"I wouldn't do that--on your account, Clip."
"Sure you wouldn't. I know that. But Pima Pete don't. He saw us goinginto the hills in the automobile. Then he wrote that note and waitedfor us to come back. He didn't dare enter the town. And he was takingchances, as it was. If that cowboy had happened to know him, Pete'sgame would have been up."
"Did he tell you in the note about seeing us, and waiting for us tocome back, Clip?" asked Matt.
Clip nodded.
"Where's the note?"
"I burned it. Got to be on the safe side, Matt. Pima Pete's my uncle. Ican't take any chances. Are you willing to try what Dangerfield wantsdone?"
"If it's honest work, and I can help anybody by doing it, yes. ButDangerfield was a lawbreaker, and I'd have to know all about thebusiness before I took any hand in it."
"There's ten thousand dollars in gold buried in the hills. It's cachednear where Pete met us. Pete wants us to meet him out there to-nightand get the gold. It's Dangerfield's. Pete says Dangerfield earned ithonestly. Dangerfield's father is an old man, and lives in Emmetsburg,Iowa. We're to send six thousand dollars to Emmetsburg, and Pete, andyou, and I are to divide the rest. That's the work."
Clip's keen eyes were fixed on Matt's troubled face. Matt was thinkinghard and did not answer.
"You don't like the work!" muttered Clip.
"I don't, and that's a fact, Clip," returned Matt. "That may be honestmoney, but how do we know? Why didn't Dangerfield tell the sheriff andlet _him_ dig it up?"
"The sheriff would turn it over to the prosecuting attorney. Thegovernment would confiscate it. You see, the federal lawyer would thinkit money Dangerfield got for smuggling Chinamen over the border."
"Well," said Matt decisively, "if we fooled with that money we'd be aptto get our fingers burned. Besides, it isn't a good thing to tangle upwith Pima Pete. He's better off, and so are we, if we keep apart."
A dark frown settled on Clip's swarthy face. For several minutes hebent his head thoughtfully.
"Pete has to get his part of the money," said Clip finally. "He can'tget away to Mexico until he has it."
"If he knows where it is," suggested Matt, "he could take it all."
"Yes--if he was an out-and-out thief." Clip threw back his head andsquared his shoulders. "He didn't reckon there was any harm helpingDangerfield run a few Chinks across the border. A whole lot of peoplethink the same way."
"That may be, Clip," answered Matt kindly, "but there's a law againstit, and Dangerfield and his men broke the law. That's put Dangerfieldin a hole, and it would put Pima Pete in a hole, too, if the officersknew he was skulking around near Phoenix. Take my advice, Clip,"Matt added earnestly, dropping a hand on his chum's knee. "Keep awayfrom Pete, just now. Let him dig up the gold and send some of it toEmmetsburg. There's no need of ringing
you and me in on the deal."
"You don't understand, Matt. Pete don't dare show himself anywhere. Ifyou and I don't mix up with that gold, nothing will be done with it."
Matt puzzled his brain over the problem for several minutes.
"I'll tell you, Clip," said he finally, "you meet your uncle to-night,but do it carefully--understand? Be sure no one sees you. Let him tellyou right where the gold is, and let him take a thousand of it, if hehas to have it, and clear out. In two or three days, when your unclehas had time to get into Mexico, I'll go to Governor Gaynor, lay thewhole matter before him, and ask his advice. If he says for us to dowhat Dangerfield wants, we'll do it. That's the best course. But don'tyou be with Pima Pete a minute longer than you have to."
Once more Clip bowed his head. While he was thinking the matter over arap fell on the door.
Starting up quickly, Clip laid a finger on his lips, moved softlyacross the room and into a closet, pulling the door partly shut afterhim.
All this secrecy of Clip's Matt did not think at all necessary; butClip was a queer fellow, although a fine one at heart, and doubly queerwhenever anything connected with his ancestry came up.
There was no time to argue with him, however, and Matt stepped to thedoor and threw it open.
McKibben, the sheriff, stepped into the room.
Motor Matt's Race; or, The Last Flight of the Comet Page 3
