CHAPTER IX.
THE LION'S MOUTH.
McGlory made a survey of the surface of the water directly in frontof the _Sprite_. A hundred feet away was a large house boat, with thelaunch snugged up close to its side. The house boat was of the ordinarytwo-deck variety, the upper deck covered with an awning. A short staffextended upward from the highest point of the boat and supported theriding light. While the cowboy was looking, a light flashed in thewindows of the house boat's cabin and then settled into a steady gleam.
"I'm not one of those ducks who wear a sixteen collar and a numberfive hat, pard," observed McGlory, as he dropped back on the thwart,"but, at the same time, what you've thrown up to me takes more sensethan I've got to decide. If we leave here and chase over to Tiburonafter a few policemen, these birds we're after may fly the coop whilewe're gone. Then, taking it t'other way around, if we go ahead onour own hook we may make another bobble like that we got tangled upwith at the foot of Clay Street. Those tinhorns are heeled, and youcan chalk that up good and big; so, if us longhorns go prancing inthere and begin pawing for trouble, the result looks like a cinch--forBrick-whiskers and the trunk check. You say what we're to do."
"I don't think we could accomplish much by coming company-front withthose fellows and demanding Lorry's ten thousand dollars," said Matt."As a matter of fact, we don't know whether they have the money withthem, or whether they've spent it, or whether they've left it somewhereashore."
"They've got it in their clothes, Matt, I'll gamble on that. When thesetinhorns freeze to a roll of that size, they keep it handy and quiet."
Matt flashed a look at the house boat.
"They seem to be the only ones aboard the house boat," said he, "andthey're evidently having a talk in the cabin. I believe we'll runalongside the other launch and then I'll leave you and Ping to watchthe _Sprite_ while I do a little reconnoitring."
"Meaning," added McGlory, "to get right in among 'em, big as life, andrun the risk of having them put the kibosh on you?"
"It's not much risk, Joe, if I'm at all careful."
"Mebby not, but what's the good?"
"Perhaps I can find out something of importance about the money."
"You're putting your head in the lion's mouth. If the mouth shouldhappen to close----" McGlory finished with a shrug and a gurgle. "Speakto me about that!"
"If that should happen," said Matt, "I'll have you and Ping to fallback on."
"Don't fall too hard, that's all."
Matt started up the motor again, proceeding slowly and as noiselesslyas he could. McGlory went forward over the hood of the motor andprepared to make the _Sprite's_ painter fast to the larger launch.
The noise of the motor did not arouse any one in the cabin--at least,no doors were opened and no one showed himself on the house boat.
Shutting off the power as soon as the _Sprite_ had gathered headwayenough to carry her to the other launch, Matt lay over the wheel andwatched while McGlory leaned out and gripped the upright supporting thecanopy over the cockpit of the larger boat. Then, pulling the _Sprite_along hand over hand, the cowboy came to the bow and made the painterfast to an iron ring.
A mumble of voices could be heard coming from the cabin of the houseboat. When all was fast, McGlory came back and got down off the hood.
"How'd it be if I went with you, Matt?" he whispered.
"A good deal worse, Joe, than for me to go it alone," was Matt'sequally guarded reply. "One can crawl around, and be more quiet aboutit, than two."
"Keno."
"Mebby so my makee go with Motol Matt," murmured Ping, who, for themost part of that trip across the bay, had been content to use his eyesand ears and let his tongue rest.
Every move Matt made about the machinery had been watched by theChinese, and so intently that he had not complained when McGlory usedhis queue for a support while standing up in the boat.
"That _would_ fix things," muttered the cowboy. "Why, you littlerat-eater, you'd get Matt into more trouble than he could take care of.You'll stay right here with me, and that shot goes as it lays."
"Awri," whispered Ping meekly.
Matt went forward on hands and knees. In getting up to step from oneboat to the other, the name of the larger boat stood out clearly underthe falling rays of the lamp. She was the _San Bruno_. The youngmotorist made mental note of the name, for it might be of value incatching Red-whiskers and his pals in case the work of the night proveduseless.
Crossing the forward deck of the _San Bruno_, Matt stepped easily tothe passage that ran along the side of the house boat's cabin. Then,on all fours, he crawled to the window through which came the glow oflight.
Rising up cautiously, he peered into the cabin. The three men werethere, seated on the cushioned benches that ran along the sides of thelittle room. All were smoking cigars, and the air was thick with thevapor. The rascals had thrown off their hats and removed their coats,so Matt had a good chance to study their evil faces.
Red-whiskers' mole was in plain evidence, but it could hardly be calleda disfigurement, as the face itself was brutal and mercenary in everyline.
The other two men were of like calibre, if their features could berelied upon. They were talking, but it was impossible for Matt tooverhear what they were saying. From their earnestness, however, itseemed plain that an important topic was being discussed.
Presently, as Matt continued to look, Red-whiskers bent down and pulleda satchel out from under the bench on which he sat. The other twocraned their necks toward him as he took the satchel on his knees andopened it.
Shoving one hand into the bag, the red-whiskered man removed a thickpacket of banknotes and held it up. The packet was encircled by a paperband, and Matt's heart thumped sharply against his ribs as he realizedthat this was certainly the money stolen from Lorry.
While the red-whiskered man held the packet in his hand, the other twotalked to him. They appeared to be pleading or arguing, Matt could notdecide which.
Abruptly the money was dropped back into the bag and the bag shovedunder the bench once more, the red-whiskered man shaking his head as hestraightened up on his seat.
"They wanted him to divide it, and he refused," was the thought thatran through Matt's head.
This was followed by another idea, whose audacity caused Matt to catchhis breath.
Wouldn't it be possible to take the satchel out of the cabin? If Mattcould get the money, he would be perfectly satisfied to let the thieveskeep their liberty.
For the king of the motor boys and his two companions to attempt tocapture the three men would have been foolish, and no doubt have endedin disaster; but to secure the satchel by stealth, or through someruse, seemed feasible and worth trying.
Dropping to the deck again, Matt crawled to the end of the house boat.At each end there was a wider strip of deck than at the sides, so thatthe young motorist had ample room to manoeuvre without making any noise.
A door opened out of the end of the cabin upon the rear deck, andbeside the door was a flight of steep stairs leading to the cabin roof.
There was nothing to be gained by going to the upper deck, and to openthe door and get inside the cabin promised more danger than Matt deemedit wise to face. The strip of deck on the starboard side of the cabinmight repay investigation, and Matt started around the corner.
But he did not turn the corner. He had no more than reached a pointwhere he could get a view of the starboard alley than his startled eyesrested on a figure tilted back in a chair against the cabin wall.
Well for motor Matt was it that the man was asleep. Had he been awake,the lad would surely have been discovered, and every hope of securingthe satchel and its contents would have gone glimmering.
Drawing back. Matt crouched on the deck and turned the situation overin his mind.
What could he do to secure that satchel?
His plans, whatever they were to be, would have to be laid quickly, forthere was no telling how long the sleeping man would remain asleep,nor how long
it would be before Red-whiskers, Kinky, and Ross finishedtheir discussion and came out of the cabin.
One move after another passed through Matt's mind, only to be rejectedand cast aside.
There was a window in the starboard wall directly back of the placewhere the red-whiskered man was sitting. In seeking to gain thestarboard alley, Matt had had that window prominently in mind. But whathe could do when he reached that window had not yet occurred to him.Any move on that part of the deck was out of the question, so long asthe man occupied the chair.
The king of the motor boys, usually so resourceful in expedients, couldthink of nothing, at that moment, that pointed the way to possiblesuccess in the matter of the satchel. The only ruse that suggesteditself was to have McGlory and Ping start some sort of a row that woulddraw the three men out of the cabin, thus affording Matt a chance torun in through a door, or climb in at a window, and secure the grip.But this plan had many disadvantages--for what would it avail Matt, orLorry, if he was to secure the satchel and then be left on the houseboat with it, at the mercy of the red-whiskered man and his two pals?
A talk with McGlory was advisable, in the circumstances, and Matt begancrawling across the after deck of the house boat toward the _San Bruno_.
Before he had covered half the distance that separated him from theedge of the house boat's deck his knee rested heavily on some hardobject attached to the boards. It proved to be an iron ring, made fastin a hatch cover.
Instantly the young motorist's plans underwent a change. He would notleave the house boat just yet, but would open the hatch, drop below andexplore the lower part of the boat. If there was another hatch leadingup under the part of the cabin where the three men were holding theirsecret session, then fortune might point a way for something worthwhile.
The hatch cover was hinged. Softly Matt lifted the trap and threw itback; then, letting himself down into the scowlike hulk, he lifted thehatch again and cautiously lowered it.