CHAPTER XI.

  A FRIEND FROM THE ENEMY'S CAMP.

  "You blokes are wise guys--I don't think," grinned Dashington. "MotorMatt is cracked up to be such a phenom. that I had a warm guess he'dknow who wrote that letter first crack out of the box."

  "What letter are you talking about?" demanded Matt.

  "The one you found in your mail this morning. My stationery wasn't thesort they use in polite correspondence, but I was in luck to have eventhat. An old letter of Bangs', Bangs' notebook and Bangs' pencil helpedme out. I'll bet eight big iron louies you never once suspected me ofdropping that letter in the mails; and yet, who else was there for youto suspect? Didn't think Jurgens would do it, did you? Or Whistler? OrBangs? Get wise, Motor Matt, get wise. There's work ahead for the lotof us, and the longer we hang off about it, the harder it's likely tobe."

  Matt and his friends listened to this line of talk with a good deal ofwonder, but they were not disposed, just then, to take Dashington'sword for anything.

  "You say you wrote that letter?" queried Matt, noting how the youth'stalk harmonized with the letter's contents.

  "Want me to make a song out of it and set it to music? You haulconsiderable freight, in a general way, but you haven't taken on muchof a load this trip."

  "You're the swab Carl and I gave the letter to on the levee, allright," spoke up Dick.

  "Thanks for the word. Swab! That expresses it nicely. Because of thatletter, which I didn't want, I got rung into the biggest Jonah playthat ever hip-locked with me. As a consequence my ticket is merely asouvenir. And now here comes Motor Matt and roughs things up in goodold Texas style. That's dead tough luck and would bring tears to a pairof glass eyes."

  "You stole the diamonds?"

  "I played understudy to Motor Matt and lifted the sparks. I walked twolong blocks with them concealed upon my person, then Whistler handed mea fistful of fives twice, right where they started the slumber song.Was I down? Yes, indeed, and for several minutes. When I rounded to andtook a fresh grasp of the situation, Jurgens, Whistler and Bangs hadchugged away in their auto and had forgotten to leave the dazzlers."

  "Ah!" said Matt grimly. "You robbed Townsend and then Jurgens and hismen robbed you."

  "I hope I may drop if that wasn't the way of it. It was a lesson forme, I think; anyhow, it's a mortal cinch I got a horrible sorry on forwhat I'd done. 'They played me for a mark,' I says to myself, 'andgot the sparklers; now I'll turn to and help Motor Matt get them backagain.' That's why I wrote that letter, and I dropped it in a mail boxjust before I pushed off in a boat and floated down the river. Happenedto meet a colored brother fishing; I told him I wanted to go to BayouYamousa, and the colored brother happened to know the way; also hehappened to have a mule and a wagon, and he brought me here. I didn'tthink you'd be along before night, and I was just keeping myself asretired as possible while waiting for you to get here. This shantylooked good to me, and as I was some fagged on account of the night'slabor, I locked the door, stretched myself out and have been poundingmy ear ever since."

  "How did you know Jurgens, Whistler and Bangs were coming to thisplace?" asked Matt.

  His confidence in Dashington was increasing. This would not have beenthe case had Dashington tried to deny, or smooth over, the part hehad played in the robbery. He was cheerfully admitting his guilt,and the cause he had for turning against Jurgens and his men seemedsufficiently adequate.

  Dashington told how he had discovered the coat, and showed thememorandum book found in the pocket. The notation: "If our plantworks, and we get separated after the diamonds are lifted, am to meetJ. and W. at Bayou Yamousa," appealed particularly to Matt. It showedDashington's reason for coming to Bayou Yamousa, and for asking Mattand his friends to join him there.

  "Do you know positively," asked Matt, "that Jurgens is in thisvicinity?"

  "I've seen their camp," replied Dashington, "but I was foxy enoughnot to let them see me. I'm not altogether a flat, even if I did letJurgens and Company touch me up and pull their chestnuts out of theblaze. I've about decided to cut out the crooked work entirely, andit's up to Motor Matt and his pals to give me a fresh chance. Of courseyou can pinch me, and land me in the pen, but that would hardly besquare after I have helped you get back the diamonds."

  "Who are you?" said Matt.

  "Joe Dashington, with the accent on the 'dash.'"

  "Where are you from?"

  "Every place. I seem to have broken out in New Orleans just at theright time to mix things for everybody. Don't let it get past you thatI didn't know what I was up against when Jurgens asked me to lift thestones. I was on the make, and went into it with my eyes wide. I'm notturning on the gang entirely because I have a grouch, but because I'veabout concluded that bunko work is a losing game."

  "You're right about that, Dashington," averred Matt. "Crooked businessis bad business, and you show your good sense in wanting to cut loosefrom it. What do you expect of us?"

  "I'm in wrong," replied Dashington, "but maybe I can get over that ifyou'll help. Suppose I join you and help you recover the diamonds. Willthat pay for letting me start for unknown regions, and then doing thenice, genteel dip for the rest of the time I'm on earth?"

  "I don't know why it won't," said Matt, in a kindly tone. "You look tome like a chap who could do big things if you went at it in the rightway."

  "Landed! Landed and strung! I'm hooked, King, and you might give meyour hand. I've got the gaff from the strong-arm push for the lasttime. Just have your pal put that gun in his pocket and I'll feeleasier."

  "Put up the thing, Dick," said Matt. "Dash can be trusted. He's goingto help us recover the diamonds, and in return for his service we're tolet him go wherever he wants to."

  "Aber vill he make goot mit vat he says?" chirped Carl.

  "I'm Class A at making good," said Dashington, "when I tackle a jobof my size. I can handle this one. But where's the balloonobile,the flying wonder that has shaken the Crescent City from centre tocircumference, and clear across to Algiers? I haven't noticed it," andDashington stepped to the door and made a hasty survey of the shore ofthe bayou.

  "You're looking too low, mate," said Dick. "She bounced up on a liveoak and you can't see her for moss."

  Dashington whirled with a jump.

  "Wrecked?"

  "Demolished. She's sailed the skies for the last time, and it was abullet brought her down."

  "A bullet?"

  "Yes," put in Matt. "It was fired from somewhere in the timber, put themotor out of business and made holes in the gas bag. We all of us hadnarrow escapes----"

  "You look the part."

  "Have you any idea who fired that shot?"

  A worried expression came over Dashington's face.

  "Who else but some of that sure-thing crowd?" he returned. "Thisboggles the situation. They know you're here, and when they find youweren't finished up out of hand they'll come looking for you. This sortof puts a crimp in our prospects, Motor Matt. Getting the sparks isn'tgoing to be so easy. Jurgens and his crowd are over by the wagon roadwith an automobile, and if they think we're wise to them they may takethe machine and hike."

  "We've got to get back those diamonds," declared Matt.

  "If we don't, I'd look pretty asking you to pull the pin on me,wouldn't I? Sure we've got to get 'em back, but----"

  "Belay there, with your jaw tackle," came excitedly from Dick, in ahalf whisper.

  He had been standing by the open door, and he suddenly drew back andhurried up to the other boys.

  "Jurgens just showed up on the bank of the bayou," announced Dick, "andhe looks as though he might be laying a course for the hut."

  "We're double-crossed!" muttered Dashington. "The head knocker of thepush will be next to us in half a minute, and that means a run tosafety in the chug wagon with all hands and the sparks."

  "No," said Matt, a thought darting through his mind. "There are enoughof us here to capture Jurgens. He may find out about us, but he won'tbe able to get away with the inform
ation."

  "Now you're making a noise like a winner," whispered Dashingtonexultantly. "That's the play. Around the door, lads, and grab him fromall sides when he pushes in. Don't let him yell. If he manages to putup a roar, Whistler and Bangs will hear it and get curious. They've gotrifles with them--and a bullet is a hard thing to dodge if it's sentright."

  Jurgens was already close to the hut--so close that there was not theslightest doubt but that he was intending to investigate it. He wasprobably wondering what had become of the boys from the air ship, andwas abroad with the intention of locating them, if possible.

  Carl and Dick got behind the door, while Matt and Dashington pressed upclose to the wall.

  The footsteps came nearer and nearer, and then, just as Jurgens put hisfoot across the threshold, Matt and Dashington sprang for him.

  Dashington threw his arms about the man's throat and hung to him like aleech, while Matt seized a hand he was pushing toward his hip. In thestruggle that followed, all three fell through the door and rolled offthe step and onto the ground.

 
Stanley R. Matthews's Novels