Chapter X: The Man From the "iris."

Not many times in McGlory's life had he been so tremendously at a loss for words as he was then. He stared at the ruby and he stared at Matt.

"You see, pard," said Matt, "the ruby wasn't in the box when I gave it to the clerk. I kept the Eye of Buddha safely about me, all the time. It gouged me a little when the speeder stopped and I was slammed against the forward bench."

"Speak to me about this!" rumbled the cowboy. "It wasn't in the box--a tinhorn blew in with a forged letter--he got the box, but he didn't get the ruby. Matt's done something--and he never told me what he was doing. What--how--why---- Look here, you blooming old maverick, how did you ever come to think of such a dodge?"

"It wasn't much of a dodge," answered Matt. "In the first place, I didn't take any stock in that wild yarn told us by Bunce. At the same time, while I didn't believe in it, I couldn't afford not to go with Bunce on Tsan Ti's account. I tried to think why Bunce should want to coax us into the hills, and the only idea that came to me had to do with the ruby. Now, I reasoned, if the ruby _was_ back of Bunce's little game, then it was clear he knew it had been sent to me for safe-keeping. I wanted to find just how much Bunce knew, so I left the box with the clerk. Bunce was watching, or else he had somebody else watching. If he'd thought I had the ruby with me, an attempt would have been made to get it while we were in the hills. But Bunce believed I had left the ruby in the safe, so he dodged away, leaving you and me to be nabbed by the section men, while he went on to that 'pocket' under the ledge, found Grattan, told him where I had placed the box, and the two got on their motorcycles and came close enough to town to get a man to help them secure the box.

"Grattan must have forged the letter. Then this third man took it. The rascals had to work quick, for the game was played while we were taking a look around at the camp in the ravine, and walking into town. Can't you understand, Joe? By getting us into the hills, with that fairy story about Tsan Ti, Grattan could play his hand either way. If we had the ruby with us, he could get hold of it; if we had left it behind, he could take advantage of our absence from Catskill to execute some ruse in town while we were out in the country."

"Clever?" breathed McGlory; "why, he's the cleverest crook that ever happened. But I'd like to have a picture of him now!" The cowboy fell back in his seat and roared with mirth. "Wouldn't I like to look in on him while he and Bunce are opening that box?" he sputtered. "Oh, but it's rich! Clever as he is, Grattan has found that he's butted up against some one who can give him cards and spades, and then beat him out. I've been proud of you, pard, more times than I can tell, but I'm just a little prouder now than I ever was before. Shake!"

Matt caught his chum's hand.

"It was only a guess, Joe," he deprecated, "and it happened to work our way. There was nothing clever about what I did. The result was entirely a--an accident."

"You had your head with you, all the same," insisted McGlory, "when you put that empty box in the safe. But how in thunder did Bunce get next to that? How did he know that Tsan Ti had sent you the ruby, in the first place?"

"Well, he did know, and that's enough. A third man has jumped into the deal--another pal, who is helping Grattan and Bunce. Perhaps he had something to do with keeping track of the ruby."

"Perhaps. But that old two-eyed counterfeit with the green patch--I wonder how much he'd sell out for, about now?"

"Bunce is pretty clever, in his own way, too," averred Matt. "He must have laughed in his sleeve when he saw how we had swallowed that fish story of his about Tsan Ti."

"He can laugh, now, on t'other side of his face. We're helping Tsan Ti, all right. Grattan is on our trail instead of his. I'm not saying it was the right thing for the mandarin to shift the responsibility for that ruby onto you, but he was pretty long headed when he did it. He understood that if any one could take care of the ruby it was Motor Matt."

"It will soon be dinner time, Joe," said Matt. "Suppose we go up to our room, shake the dust out of our clothes, take a bath, and get ready to eat?"

"That reminds me how hungry I am!" exclaimed McGlory, springing up.

By the time dinner was ready, the boys were ready for dinner. Their experiences of the forenoon had put a keen edge on their appetite, and the cowboy was in high good humor.

He and Matt had put in a strenuous morning, and so long as McGlory thought they had not accomplished anything, he was disgusted and "out of sorts." But to learn that Grattan and Bunce had been beaten at their own game, set twanging a most delightful chord in the cowboy's make-up.

The motor boys had no plans for the afternoon, so they put in their time idling about the veranda. It was about three o'clock when a tall man, dressed in a natty white yachting costume with the name "Iris," in gilt letters on the band of his cap, came briskly up the veranda steps, passed Matt and McGlory and went on into the hotel.

The man claimed only casual attention, on his first appearance, but, a few seconds later, he captured the entire attention of the two boys. He returned to the veranda, ushered by the clerk, and both stepped toward Motor Matt.

"Matt," said the clerk, "this is Mr. Pardo, of the yacht _Iris_. Mr. Pardo, Mr. King. He wants to see you about some business matter," the clerk added, as he vanished back into the hotel.

The man from the _Iris_ smiled cordially as he clasped Matt's hand.

"This is a pleasure, I assure you," said Pardo. "I have heard quite a little about Motor Matt."

"What can I do for you, Mr. Pardo?" asked Matt.

"That's the business part of our interview," was the answer, as Pardo helped himself to a chair, "and I'm going to get right down to it. You are familiar with gasoline motors, I understand?"

"Yes."

"With marine motors?"

"I reckon you never heard how he put an automobile engine in a launch, at Madison, Wisconsin," struck in McGlory, "and won a big race. He's right at home with every kind of an explosive engine, whether it drives a craft in the air, on wheels, or in the water."

"My chum is a trifle prejudiced, Mr. Pardo," smiled Matt.

"Well, I guess you can do the work, all right. The question now is, can I secure your services?"

"What for?"

"Of course," laughed Pardo, "that's what you naturally want to know. I'm the owner of a power yacht, fifty feet over all, ten feet beam, equipped with a fifty-horse-power motor. She's the _Iris_. I dropped down from Albany, this afternoon, and when we tied up at Catskill my engineer received a telegram from Buffalo saying that his father was dangerously sick. He left at once, and here I am, anxious to make a quick run to New York, but caught in the worst kind of a hole. Can't I get you to help me out? As soon as I reach New York I can get any number of reliable men to take charge of my engine room, but here in Catskill help of that sort is scarce."

McGlory's joy shone in his face. Here was a chance to get down the river in style, and all that stood between Matt and the trip was the ruby.

"Can't you run the motor, Mr. Pardo?" asked Matt.

"Don't know the first thing about it," was the answer. "You see, I haven't had time to learn. This is my first trip in the _Iris_, and I haven't had much chance to pick up a knowledge of her machinery. It's my idea that every man ought to know how to run his own boat--and I'll know it, too, before I'm many days older. But, just now, I've got to have some one. What do you say?"

Pardo noticed that Matt was not especially eager to help him out.

"If you can just get me down to New York," he pleaded, "that's all I will ask. If you have to come back to Catskill for anything, you can come on the train in the morning. You won't be away very long, and it will be a big accommodation to me. I'll pay you well for your trouble, too, if that will be any inducement."

"Better go, pard," urged McGlory. "I don't think your business will suffer any. We can be back here by nine in the morning, if we want to."

It was hardly likely, as Matt reasoned the matter out, that Tsan Ti would present himself and ask for the ruby before he and McGlory could get back from New York. The opportunity to make a little money in a pleasant way was appealing, for the king of the motor boys had long desired to have the run of the engine room on a big power boat.

"What time do you want to start, Mr. Pardo?" Matt asked.

"At nine, this evening," was the reply. "If you can help me out, you'd better arrange to be aboard at, say, eight-thirty. The _Iris_ is close to the day-line dock, and you can't help but find her."

"How much are you willing to pay for the trip?" queried Matt. "It's just as well, you know, to have all that settled beforehand."

"I'll give you a hundred dollars--not so much for the work, you understand, as for the time you are losing. Your time may be worth even more than that. If it is----"

"You are more than liberal," broke in Matt. "I and my chum will be aboard the _Iris_ at eight-thirty."

The man from the _Iris_ heaved a deep breath.

"That's a big load off my mind," said he. "I could have telegraphed New York and had an engineer come up on a late train--but that would have delayed the start until close upon midnight. I shall expect you, Motor Matt," and Pardo got up and went his way briskly.