CHAPTER IX.

  MATT MEETS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

  Matt's pursuit of the street car reminded him of his old motor-cycledays in Arizona. The familiar hum of the twin cylinders between hisknees carried his mind back to his ill-fated gasoline marvel, the_Comet_, in honor of which he had named the a?roplane he was using withthe show.

  The borrowed motor cycle had all the improvements, and the way it couldrun warmed the cockles of Matt's heart. In less than a minute afterleaving Burton and the machine's owner, the king of the motor boys wasshooting along the road like a bullet out of a gun.

  He was pursuing an electric car that ran at a high rate of speed, butthe motor cycle must have been going five feet to the car's one. BeforeMatt fairly realized it he was within sight of the car.

  When he was close enough to be heard he began to call to the conductorto stop. The passengers heard him, as the row of heads thrust out fromeach side of the car conclusively proved; and the conductor also heardhim, for he appeared on the rear platform.

  Matt could see the conductor reaching for the bell rope. At the sametime, Wily Bill rushed out on the back platform, took in the situationat a startled glance, and then dropped dexterously from the car at thetrack side.

  Matt was so wrapped up in what Wily Bill was doing that Ping's leapfrom the front platform escaped him entirely.

  Wily Bill scurried for the side of the road, and Matt shut off thepower and glided after him.

  "Hold up there, Wily!" cried Matt.

  The "barker" paid no attention, but plunged up the bank and darted offinto the timber.

  By that time Motor Matt's blood was up. He knew that a great dealdepended on the capture of Wily. If the "barker" could be made to tellwhen and how he had received that note in Hindoostanee, a clue tothe whereabouts of Ben Ali and the missing Margaret Manners would besecured.

  Appreciating fully the exigencies of the case, Matt sprang from thewheel and leaped up the bank. From the top of the rise he could seenothing of Wily, but a crashing of the undergrowth told him plainly inwhich direction the man had gone. He was but an instant in taking afterhim.

  Wily's actions were those of a guilty man; in fact, they inferred adeeper guilt than the mere possession of a note in Hindoostanee wouldindicate.

  This, naturally, made the fellow's capture all the more important.

  For a quarter of a mile, Matt judged, Wily led him a chase through thewoods. The "barker" had lost a little of his lead, but was keeping uphis fierce pace with a good deal of vigor. Then, suddenly, he began todouble. Matt would run on, looking and listening, only to find thatthere was no thrashing brush ahead. When he stopped, the sounds madeby the fleeing fugitive had changed their direction, and the youngmotorist had to whirl and take another course.

  For some time this variation of the game of hare and hounds continued,Matt drawing steadily nearer and nearer.

  At last Matt caught his first glimpse of Wily, since he had fled overthe bank from the street car, at the rear of a house whose windows wereclosed with green shutters.

  Wily stood out against the house wall, his form sharply defined, justas Matt rushed from a fringe of hazels. The "barker" cast a look overhis shoulder, gave vent to a panting exclamation, and darted around theend of the house.

  When Matt reached the front of the structure, Wily had vanished. Thekey to his disappearance was furnished by the wide-swinging front door,key still in the lock. Besides, Wily had not had time to go around theother side of the house, or to get into the woods again, so Matt knewhe must have entered the building.

  With scarcely a moment's hesitation, the king of the motor boysfollowed the fugitive.

  Coming in out of the bright sunshine, the darkness of the shut-in hallwas intense. As Matt ran on past one of the doors leading to a room onthe right a sinewy, turbaned form leaped out and a fist shot throughthe gloom, landing on the back of Matt's head with tremendous force.

  Matt staggered, regained his balance, and whirled around. His brainwas reeling, but, looking toward the light that entered at the opendoor, he saw that the man who had struck him was not Wily, as he hadimagined, but a Hindoo--none other than his old acquaintance, Dhondaram.

  Flinging out his arms, he leaped at the Hindoo. Then it was that Wilycompleted the work that Dhondaram had begun. Another blow from behind,savagely given with all the "barker's" strength, caused Matt to sink tohis knees and then straighten out unconscious on the bare floor.

  "You saw what was goin' on?" asked Wily breathlessly.

  "Even so, sahib," answered the other, in a low tone.

  "I'm in luck to find you here. Wasn't intendin' to blow in at thisplace till night--but any port in a storm. Pick him up and let's getaway somewhere."

  "The kitchen, sahib."

  Between them, the unconscious king of the motor boys was lifted andcarried into the kitchen.

  "Hang it!" growled Wily, floundering through the soot pile; "thiswon't do. There may be more after me. There's another place, under thestairs. Sharp's the word, now. Carry him there."

  Matt was not bereft of his senses for long. There was too much steeland whalebone in his athletic body to keep him steeped in oblivion forany great length of time.

  The first thing he saw, when his eyes slowly opened, was a candleplanted in the earth.

  He was lying, hands and feet bound and a cloth over his mouth, in asort of pit. Above him were the stringers and boards of a floor.

  A few moments passed while he was picking up the thread of events.While he was piecing details together, he heard a light footfall on thefloor overhead, advancing and retreating. Later there came the creakingof boards as of some one climbing a flight of stairs.

  Wily and Dhondaram, silent and motionless as statues, knelt in theearth, the fluttering gleam of the candle over them, and were listeningto the footfalls with bated breath.

  From the manner of these two Matt understood forthwith that the personin the upper part of the house must be one whom his captors feared.Had it not been for the cloth that smothered his lips, Matt would haveshouted at the top of his voice and so have informed a possible friendwhere he was.

  Inasmuch as he could neither move nor make an audible sound, theprisoner lay quiet.

  There was no cellar under this house with the green shutters, onlya scooped-out place in the earth where possibly potatoes and othervegetables had been kept.

  Presently the footsteps once more descended the stairs and could beheard leaving the house. Wily turned to Dhondaram with a deep breath ofrelief.

  "That was a close call," he muttered. "If we'd been a second latergettin' down here----"

  He bit off his words quickly. The door had slammed and the grating of akey could be heard.

  "_Maskee!_" rumbled Dhondaram. "The door has been closed and locked,sahib. You left the key in the door."

  "I was in too big a hurry to do anythin' else. As it was, Motor Mattcame within one of layin' hands on me. See if he's got his wits back."

  On hands and knees the Hindoo crept to Matt's side and peered into hisface. Matt kept his eyes closed.

  "Not yet, sahib," answered Dhondaram. "It is well. He shall not wakenin this world. The goddess Kali----"

  Dhondaram did not finish the sentence. He had referred to the malignHindoo deity invoked by thugs, and it may be he thought the talkunsuited to American ears. Lifting himself on his knees, he drew fromthe breast of his jacket a glittering blade.

  The next moment Wily Bill had caught his arm.

  "Chuck it!" he growled sternly.

  The Hindoo turned his glittering eyes on the "barker."

  "Sahib, you do not understood," said he, in a hissing voice.

  "I understood you're intendin' to use the knife," answered Wily Bill,"an' I won't have it. What d'you take me for? They don't hang peoplein this State, but I don't intend to pass the rest o' my days in the'pen.' Put that knife back where you took it from."

  "It is my duty to do this thing," flared the Hindoo.

  "Go on!"
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  "Ben Ali saved my life in my own country, and I joined the show ofBurra Burton because he told me. I tried to remove Motor Matt becausehe told me. That will pay my debt to Ben Ali. I failed in my work whileI was with the show, but now----"

  "You're goin' to fail here, too. I've got a tender regard for myliberty, an' that's why I was runnin' away from the show grounds. Therewas a fracas turned on in the side-show tent, an' I got mixed up init. Durin' the row I lost a letter that came to me by mail--a letterthat contained somethin' for you. Ben Ali, in my letter, said where hewanted to meet you. I don't know what he said in your letter, as thatwas in Hindoostanee."

  Dhondaram's eyes glowed expectantly, and he held out his hand.

  "The writing, sahib."

  "I haven't got it. Didn't I just tell you it was lost? That's what mademe bolt from the grounds. One of Motor Matt's friends got the thing,and when I tried to get it, Burton took possession of it. If thatletter's ever translated, I'll bet it contains stuff that would makethe show too hot to hold me. I got away while there was time--but therewasn't any too much time, at that. If----"

  Dhondaram drew back.

  "Motor Matt, sahib," muttered Dhondaram, "he's listening to your talk."

  The prisoner had opened his eyes, and the keen glance of the Hindoo haddetected it. Both Dhondaram and Wily turned their gaze on Matt.

 
Stanley R. Matthews's Novels