Chapter IV: Tricked!

"What time is it, Cassidy?"

"A little after eleven, cap'n."

"Nearly an hour, then, before Motor Matt gets here."

"You told him not to come afore midnight, cap'n. I didn't say anything ag'in it, although it struck me as how that wasn't a very good time."

"I know my business, perhaps, better than you do, Cassidy."

Townsend was a very sick man, and fretful. Apart from his illness he had other things to worry him.

"Aye, aye, cap'n," said Cassidy easily, "you know your own business best."

"Was there a man across the street spying on the house when you looked last?"

"I piped him off last when there was daylight enough to see. He was there, all right, just as he has been for the last two days."

"He must be there now, don't you think?"

"Either him or somebody else. One man couldn't stay on the job all the time, cap'n, you know. A feller has to sleep an' eat."

"By having Motor Matt come at night, and come the back way, the spy won't see him, will he?"

"I reckon not, cap'n. Even if Matt came the front way, any time after eight o'clock, I don't think the spy could tell him from Adam, across the street."

"My mind's made up. There's a load on me that I've got to get rid of before I can be well."

"That's what frets me, cap'n," returned Cassidy earnestly. "You're just sick enough to make a whole lot more of that 'load' than you ought to. Quit worryin' about it. That'll be better for the 'load' and for you, too."

"Does the landlady understand----"

"I've told her to expect a friend of your'n by the back door, an' Mrs. Thomas is sittin' up herself just to let the friend in. She won't trust it to the servant girl."

"I'll remember Mrs. Thomas for that! When I'm well again----"

A bell rang sharply in front of the house.

"What's that?" demanded Townsend, starting up in his bed.

"Don't get nervous, cap'n," answered Cassidy soothingly. "It's only the gate bell. Some other visitor, I reckon."

"I don't see why people have bells on their gates," worried Townsend. "I never saw it any other place."

A stir was heard in the regions below. Presently there came the mellow tinkle of the doorbell, and the sound of an opening door and voices. A little later a knock on Townsend's door carried Cassidy to the entrance to the room. Mrs. Thomas was in the hall.

"There must be some mistake," said the landlady in her soft Southern drawl. "Mr. Townsend's friend came to the front do', and I reckon he didn't know anything about coming to the kitchen."

"Well, have him come up, Mrs. Thomas," called Townsend. "I don't seem able to have anything as I want it. Matt not only comes to the front door, but he comes nearly an hour ahead of time. I'll see him, though. He's a sharp boy, and if he's read my letter he'll know what I expect of him."

The landlady went away.

"I want to talk with Matt alone, Cassidy," continued Townsend.

"I know that, cap'n," replied the mate, "and just as soon as Matt gets in I'll slide out and leave you to yourselves."

Another rap fell on the door. Cassidy went to it and admitted Joe Dashington, still in his old slouch hat, sweater and corduroys.

"Great guns, Motor Matt!" exclaimed Cassidy, "I'd hardly have known you in that get-up."

"Matt!" exclaimed Townsend querulously, lifting himself on one elbow and staring at the caller. "Is that you, Matt?"

"I guess I do look a Reub, eh?" laughed Dashington. "Well, I thought I'd be foxy and get on a disguise. Hope you're feeling better, Mr. Townsend?"

"You can go now," said Townsend, falling back on his pillow.

The mate gave the caller a sharp sizing out of the clew of his eyes and then went out, closing the door softly behind him.

"Pull a chair up close to the bed, Matt," went on Townsend. "I guess I'm getting better--the doctor says so--but I'll know that as soon as these diamonds are off my hands. I'm worried to death about them, as some one has been watching this house for two days. Why didn't you come the back way, as I told Carl and Dick to tell you? And why didn't you wait until midnight?"

"Well," answered Dashington, seating himself by the bed, "the cars don't run so I could get here at just midnight, old fel. I either had to come now, or get here at half-past twelve. Thought I'd take an earlier chance. As for coming the back way, I tried it; but there's no alley and there's a dog in the next yard. I think this rig I've put on'll fool anybody across the street, eh? And then the talk that goes with it is some fine, don't you think? I'm a regular lollypaloozer with the 'con' talk."

"You're about the most resourceful young fellow I've ever come across," said Townsend, "and I knew you'd see that everything was all right."

"Sure, old fel. I'm no hand to jolly, but I give you credit for being a pretty slick piece of goods yourself. But, say! Don't you think we'd better rush this business? Ef there's a man piping the house off, the quicker we finish and I duck, the better."

"Keen as ever, my boy!" exclaimed Townsend, in a tone of relief. "Reach your hand under my pillow and take out what you find there."

It was an eager hand that went under the pillow and drew out a canvas bag.

"Those are the diamonds, Matt," said Townsend. "I don't have to tell you anything about them. The address of the lady to whom they are to go is on the card pinned to the bag."

"Is she looking for me to come?" inquired Dashington. "This isn't exactly a fashionable hour for a call."

"We'll have to overlook that point, Matt. The lady will come to the door, and all you will have to say is that the package is a valuable one and comes from the Man from Cape Town. She will understand, although I haven't been able to see her, or to send her word."

"Bank on me, old fel," answered Dashington, hardly able to conceal the exultation he felt.

"Get a receipt from the lady, Matt."

"Sure. I always get a receipt when I deliver a valuable package."

"And bring the receipt to me here, to-morrow."

"That's me. Anything else, Townsend?"

"Nothing, Matt, except to say that you're the only person I'd trust to deliver those diamonds. Why, I wouldn't even let Cassidy do the errand! I was to deliver the stones personally, but it would be some time before I could do that and I can't stand it any longer to have such valuable property around me."

"I'm next to how you feel, all right, and I don't blame you."

"Of course I could have sent Cassidy to the lady and have had her come here, but that fellow across the street might have seen her come, and if he's connected with the people I think, then it's a dangerous gang who are laying to get hold of those stones."

Dashington pushed the bag under his sweater and got up.

"How much do you think these diamonds are worth?" he asked.

"A fortune, a king's ransom!"

"Gee! There must be a double handful of the sparks in the bag. Well, old fel, I'll be going. Hope you'll get well in short order."

"I know I will, now," answered Townsend, with a deep sigh of satisfaction. "I'll see you to-morrow, Matt?"

"Sure. Good night."

Dashington left the room and, as Cassidy came back, the front door was heard to open and close.

"I never thought Matt King could get himself up to look like that, cap'n," remarked the mate, as he took the chair by Townsend's bed.

"He's a clever boy," averred Townsend, "and as steady and reliable as a clock."

"He's about as different from what he usually is as any one could imagine," pursued Cassidy. "The way he acts and talks are both different. You're right, he's clever."

"I don't mind telling you now, Cassidy, something I've been keeping from you," said Townsend, after a brief pause. "You remember that iron chest that was hidden away in an island in the Bahamas, and how a fellow calling himself the Man from Cape Town gave me a chart and asked me to go after the chest, bring it to New Orleans and open it in the presence of a lady who lives in St. Charles Avenue?"

"I know that by heart, cap'n," answered Cassidy. "The lady who lives in St. Charles Avenue is the daughter of the Man from Cape Town, and you was to open the chest in her presence and divide the contents. Don't talk about it. It's late, and you're tired and ought to go to sleep."

"I'm not done, yet," demurred Townsend. "You know how Jurgens and Whistler stole my submarine, the _Grampus_, from Atlantic City, got the iron chest, and how Motor Matt and his friends, in their air ship, recaptured the submarine and found the iron chest aboard?"

"I was mixed up in that myself, so I don't reckon I'll ever forget it."

"And then, when we came on here in the submarine, you know how the chest was stolen by Jurgens, Whistler, and Bangs; how Motor Matt recovered it; how Dick and Carl let it slip through their hands; how it was opened and found to contain the head of an African voodoo idol; how the head was smashed and found to be full of South African diamonds; how I did the worst thing I ever did in my life and let Whistler, Jurgens, and Bangs go clear when I could have had them sent to jail; and, lastly, you know how suddenly this illness came upon me and prevented me from taking the diamonds to the lady in St. Charles Avenue, as I had planned."[A]

[A] See No. 13 of the MOTOR STORIES, "Motor Matt's Queer Find; or, The Secret of the Iron Chest."

"Yes, cap'n," said the mate, "I know all that."

"Well, here's something you don't know, Cassidy. I have had those diamonds with me, here under my pillow, all the time I've been sick."

"Great guns!"

"And," finished Townsend exultantly, "I have just given them to Motor Matt to deliver to the woman. When I am well, I will go to her and get my share of them, as well as the share that is coming to Motor Matt and his friends."

Cassidy was amazed. Before he could speak, however, another rap fell on the door--a nervous and excited summons, as could be told by the sound, alone.

"What now, I wonder?" fretted the sick man.

Cassidy opened the door and found Mrs. Thomas.

"Oh, Mr. Cassidy," cried the landlady, "some one has just come to the back door and he says he is Motor Matt--a nice-looking, well-dressed young fellow who----"

"What?" cried Townsend hoarsely, trying to get out of bed.

"Softly, cap'n, softly!" warned Cassidy, leaping to the bed and pushing Townsend back. "Mebby there's nothing wrong. Anyhow, your cue is to take it easy. Tell this other Motor Matt to come right up, Mrs. Thomas," he added.