MOTOR MATT'S PROMISE.
Townsend had a bad two minutes waiting for Mrs. Thomas to get
downstairs and for Matt to come up. Finally, when the young motorist
entered the room, he was astounded by what he saw.
Cassidy was half holding, half supporting Townsend on the bed, and
Townsend, his face like chalk and his eyes staring glassily, was gazing
at the newcomer.
"What's the matter?" queried Matt. "What's wrong, Cassidy?"
Cassidy shook his head. Before he could answer, Townsend burst out:
"Were you here a few minutes ago, Matt? Did you have on other clothes,
and did I give you the diamonds? For heaven's sake, tell me!"
"Easy, cap'n," warned Cassidy.
"No," replied Matt, instantly divining that something had happened
to the diamonds. "I was told not to come until midnight, but I was
anxious, and even now I am ahead of time. Why?"
He approached the bed hurriedly, but Townsend had sunk limply back,
with a hollow groan.
"There was a fellow here who looked like you in the face, Matt, and who
said he was you. Townsend gave him the bag of diamonds," said Cassidy.
Motor Matt reeled backward. He could think of but two men, at that
moment, and they were Jurgens and Whistler. And he blamed himself. He
should not have listened to Carl and Dick, but should have posted
at once to Prytania Street and told Townsend how the letter had been
delivered to some one else through a mistake.
"Couldn't you tell that the fellow wasn't me, Cassidy?" Matt demanded.
"You had a close look at him. He may have _looked_ like me, but did he
act, or talk, as I do? Great spark plugs! In a case like that you ought
to have been more than sure."
"I didn't know the cap'n was going to hand the diamonds over,"
returned Cassidy. "The cap'n only just told me. I had my suspicions,
but I couldn't just see how the fellow would be here, accordin' to
instructions, if he wasn't you. And he sure looked like you, although
his talk and his actions were a trifle off. Oh, thunder, what a go!"
"How was he dressed?" demanded Matt. "Quick--tell me as much as you can
about him."
"Slouch hat, gray sweater, dark corduroy trousers; slangy,
devil-may-care sort of chap. Not you, in that way, by a jugful."
"And he left here----"
"Twenty minutes ago."
Matt whirled and dashed from the room. At the foot of the stairs he
found the excited landlady.
"Have you a telephone in the house?" he asked.
"This way," answered Mrs. Thomas, appreciating the fact that something
important was urging Matt on and that it was a time for action and not
words.
The telephone was in the rear hall and Matt had soon rung up the police
department, given a description of the youth, and of Jurgens, Whistler,
and Bangs, and told as much of what had happened as it was necessary
for the officers to know in order to make a quick and effective search.
In a few minutes he was back in Townsend's room.
"The police," said Matt, "will get right to work; and as soon as I am
through talking here I will get to work myself. Don't be discouraged,
Mr. Townsend. That young fellow may have got the diamonds, but he'll
find it hard to get away with them."
"I don't know," murmured Townsend, tossing his hands, "but it seems to
me as though everything connected with that Man from Cape Town and his
iron chest is fated to make me trouble. Jurgens and Whistler must be
back of this!"
"Undoubtedly."
"But how did they know I was going to send the diamonds to the woman in
St. Charles Avenue to-night? Where did they get hold of a young fellow
who looks so astonishingly like you to help them in their villainous
schemes?"
"I can tell you something about that, in a minute. What did that fellow
say when he came here?"
"He came in at the front gate, a little after eleven, and he said he
had disguised himself so that he could escape the vigilance of possible
spies. He also said that he had come early, as the cars did not run, at
this time of night, so he could get here at sharp twelve. Oh, he had a
clever story! I'll warrant you that Jurgens fixed that part of it for
him."
"You wanted me to take the diamonds to the daughter of the Man from
Cape Town?" asked Matt.
"Why, didn't you know that?" demanded Townsend. "Didn't you read my
letter?"
"There's the point, Townsend. I did not see your letter. If I had
known what you wanted me to do, I should have come here early in the
evening. But I didn't. All I knew was that the work was important."
"But the letter, Matt, the letter! I told everything in that. I did
not care to trust the information with Carl or Dick, or even with
Cassidy. This house has been watched for two days by some fellow who
was skulking on the other side of the street. I was afraid--the whole
thing had got on my nerves. The worst thing I ever did," Townsend added
in bitter self-reproach, "was to let Jurgens, Whistler, and Bangs go
when I had them where the law could take care of them."
"This young fellow, who appears to be my double and who has turned up
so unfortunately in New Orleans," said Matt, "looks so much like me
that he deceived even Carl and Dick. While they were on the way back to
the dock, with your letter, they saw the fellow, and gave the letter to
him."
Townsend groaned despairingly.
"Never again," said he, "will I put such important matters in black and
white. But I thought I could trust Carl and Dick to deliver the letter
safely to you."
"You can hardly blame them for making the mistake, Townsend," went on
Matt, "when even you and Cassidy were fooled."
"It's the most astonishing thing I ever heard of!" muttered Townsend.
"How two young fellows could look so much alike, and how your double
should happen around at just the right time to play havoc with my
carefully worked-out plan. But it's fate. There's something about those
diamonds that brings ill luck. It seems to have been destined, from the
start, that they were never to be delivered to this New Orleans woman."
"No matter what happens, Townsend," said Matt, "your conscience is
clear. The iron chest has caused you expense, time and trouble, and you
have tried faithfully to do what this mysterious Man from Cape Town
asked of you. Don't take it so hard."
"I am culpable," declared Townsend, "in that I did not put Jurgens and
Whistler where they could never trouble me again, that time I had it
in my power. I am in duty bound to get back those stones. I can't let
those scoundrels get away with them."
"Leave it to the police, cap'n," spoke up Cassidy. "You're a sick man,
and that's all you can do. Leave it to the police, and the chances are
that they will capture the gang, for the trail is hot; but, if they
don't capture Jurgens, Whistler, and that young grafter and recover the
diamonds, it's just as Matt says; you haven't any cause to feel cut up
over it."
"But I _will_ feel cut up over it," insisted Townsend, with all the
distorted reasoning of a sick man. "Matt, I want you to promise me
something. If you'll give the promise, I'll feel fairly contented and
will abide the result with patience. Your promise, my boy, will help me
to get well."
"What is it?" asked Matt.
"I don't remember that you ever failed in anything you have
undertaken--and I've got the most of your history ever since you left
Arizona. What I want you to promise is this, that you'll keep after
Jurgens, Whistler and that double of yours _until you recover the
diamonds_."
"But----"
"The police won't be able to do it--I'm as sure of that as I am that I
am lying here in this bed this minute. While everything connected with
that iron chest and its contents seemed to condemn me to a run of hard
luck, it has always been you and your good fortune that stepped in, at
the last minute, and saved the day. I am positive that you can save the
day now. There is that Obeah woman, the voodoo priestess who aided you
so strangely and so well the other time. Go to her. She is a friend of
yours. Ask her to help you."
"I don't think----"
"You must promise me, Matt!" insisted Townsend vehemently. "I tell
you I am to blame for the loss of the diamonds, for I should have had
Jurgens, Whistler, and Bangs sent to jail when it was in my power to do
so. Will you promise?"
Cassidy gave Matt a significant look. It asked Matt, for the sake of
Townsend's comfort and health, to agree to a task whose accomplishment
would be difficult and perhaps impossible.
"Very well," said Matt, quietly stepping to the bedside and taking
Townsend's hand in a firm pressure, "I promise."
"That you will keep after the thieves until you finally recover the
diamonds?"
"Yes."
"Then I shall rest content," said Townsend. "Your good luck, I know,
will go with you. Go and find the voodoo woman. Give me some medicine,
Cassidy, for I'm about played out."
Townsend sank back on his pillow and closed his eyes.
Matt looked at him, at the haggard, careworn expression on his face, at
the gray hair sweeping his temples, and, for the first time, realized
what the difficulties and perils connected with that mysterious iron
chest had meant to Archibald Townsend. As he turned softly away and
moved toward the door, his heart was steeled with resolution to do his
utmost--_and to win_!
He nodded to Cassidy, softly opened the door, and left the room.