CHAPTER IV.

  SMOKE PICTURES.

  "Sit on ze bench," said Yamousa, when they were all in the house again,pointing to the bench where Matt and Dick had rested themselves alittle while before.

  Carl made it a point to keep a grip on Matt, and he walked with himto the bench and snuggled up close to his side when they sat down.The Dutch boy's eyes were almost popping from his head. The queerassortment of odds and ends with which the roof and walls weredecorated cast over him a baneful spell, and he was beginning to wishthat he had stayed with the car.

  Yamousa hobbled back and forth, getting together materials for the workshe had in prospect. First, she took an earthen jar from one cornerof the room and set it down in front of the boys. As she moved acrossthe floor with the jar she sang the Creole song which Matt had alreadyheard, finishing by aiming her finger at Carl and shrieking out thefinal "_boum!_"

  Carl gave a howl of consternation, his feet went into the air, and hewould have tumbled from the bench if Matt had not held him.

  "Donnervetter!" gasped Carl huskily. "I dradder be some odder place ashere. Vat's der madder mit der olt laty? She gifs me some cholts."

  "Don't be afraid," whispered Matt. "She has proved herself a friend ofours."

  "Yah, meppy, aber I don'd vant her to boint her finger ad me like dotsome more."

  Yamousa got a small box from a cupboard and emptied a brownish powderout of it into the jar; then, with a pair of tongs, she removed a livecoal from the fireplace and dropped it into the jar with the powder.

  A wisp of smoke floated upward, accompanied by a sizzling noise. Thenoise increased until it resembled the buzzing of a swarm of bees, andthe smoke spread out until it filled all that part of the room, growingdenser every moment.

  In and out through the vapor, stumbling around the jar in a sort ofdance, moved Yamousa, tossing her arms and crooning a chant.

  "Di tems Missi? d'Artaguette, H?! Ho! H?! C'?tait, c'?tait bon tems, Y? t? m?nin monde a la baguette, H?! Ho! H?!"

  The boys stared breathlessly. Yamousa's candle was on the other side ofthe room, glowing like a coal through the vapor.

  Suddenly figures began to take shape in the smoke, the filmy fogthickening in places and decreasing in others as though some invisiblehand was moulding the black haze into a scene _en silhouette_.

  By degrees the picture perfected itself until, at last, it lay clearlybefore the boys.

  They saw a broad river on which a small boat was floating. Therewas no one in the boat, but on the stern thwart, in plain view andunmistakable, was Townsend's iron chest.

  The boat and the chest heaved and rolled on the waves, and the oars inthe oarlocks played up and down on the surface of the water.

  Then, as the two boys watched, scarcely breathing, so great was theirinterest and excitement, a vague shape came gliding over the river outof the distance. Presently the shape resolved itself into the form ofthe air ship. The _Hawk_ glided low and halted hoveringly over the boat.

  There were three passengers in the air ship's car, and Matt and Carlhad no difficulty in recognizing themselves and Ferral. A rope wasthrown downward by Ferral, and Matt could be seen climbing over therail and descending the rope.

  On reaching the boat, Matt made the rope secure to the iron handles ofthe chest and Carl and Dick laid back on the rope and drew the chestupward.

  The moving picture had proceeded thus far when Carl, overcome by theuncanny nature of the whole proceeding, lifted a hair-raising yell,hurled himself from the seat, and bolted for the door.

  The frenzied shout seemed to destroy the spell. The smoke billowedshapelessly into a blank fog, and Matt darted from the house after Carl.

  Dick, startled by the Dutch boy's shout, had run toward the cabin,meeting Carl a few yards from the air ship.

  "Der olt laty vas der teufel," Carl was excitedly explaining to Dick."She makes moofing bictures, py shinks, oudt oof nodding but shmoke. Vesee der air ship, und meinseluf, und you, und Modor Matt, und ve vasdoing some t'ings vat I don'd know und vat ain'd peen done, yah, sohelup me. Led's ged avay from here, mitoudt losing some more time."

  Carl was in a nervous condition, and while he talked he jumped up anddown and flourished his arms. When he was through, he made a bolt forthe _Hawk_, but Matt was close enough to catch hold of him.

  "Don't get excited, Carl," said Matt. "Calm yourself down."

  "How I vas going to do dot," exploded Carl, "ven I see der hocus-pocusdot olt laty make mit us? Himmelblitzen! She iss some relations mit derOlt Nick, und oof ve know ven ve vas vell off ve vill pull oudt oofhere righdt avay."

  "Chuck it, Carl!" said Dick. "I guess there ain't anything going tohurt you. Give me a line on this, Matt. I can't overhaul Carl's talkand get much sense out of it."

  Matt proceeded to describe what had taken place in the hut. Dicklistened with wide eyes.

  "Keelhaul me if I ever heard anything like that before!" he exclaimed,when Matt had finished. "It sounds like a yarn for the marines. Youtwo must have been hypnotized and imagined you saw all that. Fakirs inIndia do stunts of that sort, but they only make people _think_ theysee such things; they don't really see them."

  "I know ven I see somet'ing, you bed my life," fluttered Carl, "und Isee der air ship, und you and Matt und meinseluf in der shmoke, und vedo t'ings schust so natural like life. It don'd vas some treams, I tellyou dot. Oof----"

  Carl was interrupted by a shrill cry from the hut door.

  "Come once more an' see ze smoke picture! Come queek!"

  "Nod me!" and Carl galloped on toward the air ship.

  "We'd better go, Dick," said Matt.

  "Do you think Carl will try to unmoor the _Hawk_?" returned Dick, witha hurried look in the direction Carl had gone.

  "No, he won't do that."

  Matt and Dick thereupon retraced their course to the hut. Yamousahad vanished from the door and the boys groped their way through thestifling, pungent vapor to the bench.

  The smoke picture had already been formed and showed the interior of aroom with stone walls. On the floor of the room lay a man, bound handand foot and, to all appearances, a prisoner. He had gray hair andmustache, and his features, although vague and indistinct, were easilyrecognized.

  "Townsend!" whispered Matt.

  "Aye!" returned Dick, "Townsend, as I live!"

  The stone chamber faded into the front of a building, and along thefront was a sign, the lettering of which could easily be read: "M.Crenelette, Antiques."

  This second picture faded and Yamousa laid a piece of board over thetop of the jar. Slowly the air cleared and the old woman stepped closeto the bench, shaking her withered head until the gold rings in herears and nose danced glimmeringly.

  "You know ze man in ze stone room?" she asked.

  "Yes," replied Matt, in a stifled voice.

  "Ah, ha! Zat will be in New Orleans. Me, I live zere one time. Ze frontof ze buildings you see has ze stone chamber in ze basement. Eet eesin Royal Street, on ze French side of Canal. You look an' you fin' zesign, zen you get ze white-haired man away from ze enemies. Go 'way an'sleep; zen, in ze morning, I gif you breakfus, an' you go on to ze bigcity an' safe your frane. _Bo' soir, mes amis!_ Sleep an' do not fear."

  Without answer, Matt and Dick stumbled out of the house, full of wonderand bewilderment.

  "Strike me lucky!" breathed Dick. "This is the first time anything likethat ever crossed my hawse. The question is, is there anything in it,or is it all a fake?"

  "I don't take much stock in wonder-workers like Yamousa," answeredMatt, "because they usually prey upon the ignorant and thesuperstitious. I haven't the least notion how she make the pictures.That part of it is strange enough, and maybe, as you say, she onlyhypnotizes us and causes us to think we see something that isn't reallyin the smoke at all. But I don't see how those pictures can really meananything, and I'm going to bunk down in the car and get some sleep."

  Matt tried to persuade himself that the smoke pictures of Yamousa we
remerely a trick, but somehow the idea that there _might_ be something inthem clung to his mind. Although his thoughts kept him unsettled andrestless for a time, yet he finally fell asleep.

  There was no sleep for Carl, however. He found the revolver that hadbeen knocked out of Dick's hand by the flying stone. The mechanism hadbeen damaged and the weapon was useless, but nevertheless Carl feltsafer with it, and placed himself on guard.

  Dick, like Matt, was able to get some rest, and the night passeduneventfully. It was only when morning dawned that anything of anunusual nature occurred.

  A shout from Carl brought Matt and Dick to their feet. Carl hadretreated until he was standing midway between the air ship and theedge of the clearing, his fearful eyes on Yamousa, who was crouching atthe side of the car.

  "Queek!" cried Yamousa, "hurry away. Your enemies come--I see zem in zesmoke--an' zey come close. Leesen!"

  She held up one talon-like finger in token of silence. From somewhere,off in the timber, could be heard faint sounds as of some oneapproaching through the undergrowth.

  In another moment the boys were actively at work casting off the ropes.

  "Take zis," said Yamousa, handing Matt something wrapped in a piece ofnewspaper. "It will breeng you ze luck. You haf helped Yamousa, an'Yamousa she try to help you. But hurry; zere ees no time to lose."

  Carl, gathering courage from the prospect of an early departure fromthat ill-omened spot, ran forward and helped Dick with the ropes.

  Matt laid the small parcel Yamousa handed to him in the bottom of thecar and immediately got the engine to going. The woman, meanwhile, withan apprehensive look over her shoulder, had started toward the timber.

  As Dick and Carl leaped into the car, Yamousa gave a screech of warningand pointed toward the other side of the cleared space.

  One look in that direction was enough for Matt. Half a dozen white menhad hurried into sight. Whistler was in the lead.

  "Let 'er go, matey!" yelled Dick. "They'll be on us in half a minute."

  Matt, with a twist of a lever, threw the power into the machinery andthe _Hawk_ took the push and glided upward.

 
Stanley R. Matthews's Novels