CHAPTER XII.
MATT LAYS HIS PLANS.
On the way through the woods and back to the road by the car track,Motor Matt was extremely thoughtful.
By Ben Ali's cleverness in getting some white man to represent theagent of the British ambassador, the Hindoo had succeeded in luring hisniece from the home of the English woman in whose care the girl hadbeen left.
Once this was accomplished, it was easy to guess how the artful Hindoohad proceeded. Miss Manners had been a hypnotic subject for so longthat it was useless for her to attempt to fight against the blackmagic of her rascally uncle. He had but to catch her eye and snap hisfingers, and the girl would be utterly in his power.
To fight such a man as Ben Ali called for ways and means at once boldand wary. He was not to be easily snared.
"You're as mum as an oyster," grunted Burton, as they neared the road."I've spoken to you half a dozen times, and you didn't seem to hear me.Come back to earth now, and tell me what's on your mind?"
"I'll tell you later, Burton," laughed Matt. "I've got a hard problemto solve, and I don't want to say anything about it until it's allworked out."
"From what you said at that house with the green shutters, I take ityou're not going back to the show with me?"
"No."
"Be back there in time to take the a?roplane aloft at six-thirty? Thewind's down, and you can pull off the trick."
"There'll be no a?roplane flight this afternoon, Burton. I have moreimportant matters to attend to."
Burton began to bristle.
"By Jerry," he cried, "what am I giving you your salary for? We'vemissed one ascension to-day, and the people will be wild if we don'thave one this afternoon."
"Then," answered Matt, "tell them that we'll give an a?roplaneperformance for the whole of Grand Rapids to-morrow. That ought tosatisfy them, and I know you'll make a lot of capital out of it."
Burton stopped stock-still and stared.
"You're crazy?" he bluntly inquired. "To-morrow's Sunday, and I'venever yet been able to get you to make an ascension on Sunday.Backsliding, eh?"
"For this one time," said Matt. "I'm not doing this for the benefit ofyour show, Burton, but because, as I size the matter up now, there'snothing else to be done."
"Whew!" whistled the showman, "you're about the biggest conundrum, nowand then, that I ever tackled. When'll you get back to the grounds?"
"This evening, some time."
"Hunt for me the minute you get there, and let me know what's up."
They found Ping waiting for them in the road. He was adisconsolate-looking Chinaman, and ran up to Matt the moment he slippeddown the steep bank.
"You heap mad with Ping, huh?" the Chinese boy chattered. "You know himmakee shoot Loman candle, play plenty hob with side show? Woosh! Myvelly bad China boy."
Matt laughed. That laugh caused Ping to brighten.
"I'll have to forgive you this once, Ping," said Matt. "A whole lot ofgood has resulted from that flare-up in the side-show tent. But I don'tlike practical jokes--you know that. Get on the car and go back to thegrounds with Burton. As for the Roman-candle business, we'll talk aboutthat later."
"You no pullee pin on China boy?" faltered Ping.
"No. You make your peace with Carl, that's all."
"Hoop-a-la!" said Ping, and limped aboard an electric car that Burtonhad flagged.
Matt caught a car going the other way, and, as soon as he reachedMonroe Street, hurried to the nearest automobile garage, bent uponmaking the most of the daylight that remained.
He hired a car and a driver who knew the city. It was a small roadster,and Matt had the driver take him beyond the city limits and out forfive miles on the Elgin road.
They passed through a small oak opening, which looked as though itmight be the place where Ben Ali was to meet his crony, Dhondaram.
"This will be far enough," said Matt. "Now, turn around and take usback to town."
The king of the motor boys gave careful attention to all the landmarks,going both ways. Returning, dusk had begun to fall, and his surveycould not be as comprehensive as the one made on the outward trip.However, he was abundantly satisfied with the information he hadacquired.
When they reached the garage, Matt bargained with the proprietor for apowerful touring car, with the same driver who had already been withhim, to be at the show grounds at Reid's Lake at eight o'clock thefollowing morning.
After that, he dropped in at a restaurant and had a good meal, thenboarded a car for the lake, and rode back to the grounds with a crowdof people who were going to the evening performance of the show.
He had a good deal of amusement listening to the disappointedexpressions of the people regarding the failure of Burton to have anya?roplane flights. Mixed up in the talk were a number of complimentaryreferences to Motor Matt and his chums. These, so far as they appliedto himself, the king of the motor boys tried not to hear. But,nevertheless, they caused a glow of satisfaction to mount to his face.It was certainly pleasant to know how his efforts in the line of dutyhad struck a popular chord.
That wild half-hour in the air, over Jackson, when Matt found hisbatteries short-circuited by a coiling cobra, had been exploitedthrough the press. These, while arousing the popular admiration, onlymade the general disappointment more keen because of the failure of theSaturday flights at Reid's Lake.
When Matt got off the car at the lake, he made his way to thebrilliantly lighted show grounds, and repaired immediately to thecalliope tent.
Burton was there, smoking a cigar and nervously walking back and forthin front of the canvas-covered calliope.
"The people are pulling me all to pieces, Matt," he cried the momentthe king of the motor boys entered the tent. "They're saying we couldjust as well have had a flight to-night, that I'm not living up to mypromises, and all that. By Jerry, it hurts!"
"Let it be announced in the circus tent," said Matt, "that there'llbe a flight to-morrow morning at nine o'clock--not for exhibitionpurposes, as Motor Matt doesn't give a performance on Sunday--and thatall who wish to can see it."
"Good!" declared Burton. "I guess that'll catch them. But what are youmaking the flight for, if not to please the people?"
"For the purpose of backcapping Ben Ali, capturing him, and findingout where he has taken Margaret Manners."
Burton whirled around and gave Matt a steady look.
"What have you got up your sleeve?" he demanded curtly. "Are you goingto try that, all alone, in the _Comet_?"
"Not all alone. You, and Twomley, and Joe are going to help. SendHarris and another trusty man over to that house with the greenshutters, will you, and have them relieve the Englishman and McGlory. Iwant them here to talk with them."
Harris was Burton's brother-in-law, and a thoroughly reliable man inevery respect.
"I've already sent them supper, a lantern, and a couple of chairs,"said Burton, "but it seems to me all foolishness to hold the prisonersin the house. Why not send 'em to jail, where they belong?"
"Because Wily may not belong in jail, and because, if Dhondaram istaken there to-night, Ben Ali might hear of it and not present himselfin that oak opening on the Elgin road to-morrow."
"Can't you tell me what you're going to do?"
"Not till Twomley and Joe get here."
With that, Matt dropped down on a cot, at one side of the tent, andtried to get a little rest. He was used to the band, and to the manyother sounds that characterized a show just preceding a performance,and these did not bother him; but his head! that had suddenly begun toremind him that it had been badly treated during the afternoon.