THE COAT IN THE RUMBLE.
Matt, while following Legree toward the front of the hotel, was doing
some quick thinking to account for this surprising discovery of the
runabout.
Very likely Brisco and Spangler were planning to recover the tin box.
It must have been these plans that had brought them eastward from the
vicinity of Ash Fork.
Spangler had been dropped on the road to intercept the stranded players
and get the box, while Brisco had come recklessly into Fairview.
Possibly Brisco had been compelled to come into town after gasoline and
oil.
"Ah doan' want tuh be erroun' if dar's goin' tuh be any shootin',"
palpitated Uncle Tom, rolling out of the tonneau with more haste than
grace. "Ah used tuh be a reg'lar fire-eatah, en mah youngah days, but
Ah dun kinder got ovah hit. Topsy, yo' an' Miss 'Liza come right along
wif me, dis instinct. We'll go off whah dar's er safe place fo' me tuh
do mah mascottin' fo' Motah Matt."
Eliza and Topsy hurriedly descended from the car. Little Eva was
already on the ground, but instead of going around the hotel with
Eliza, Topsy, and Uncle Tom, he strolled over to the runabout. In their
excitement, the others did not miss the boy.
There were two windows in the hotel office--one in the front wall, a
dozen feet from the door, and one just around the corner in the side
wall. The window in the side wall overlooked the runabout.
Matt, doing some quick figuring, jumped at the conclusion that Brisco,
taken by surprise by Legree, would make a bolt through one of the
windows, both of which were open.
Close to the front window an eave-spout entered a rain-water barrel.
Matt did not believe Brisco, if he tried to escape by a window, would
come out at the front, but at the side, where he would be nearer
the runabout. With this idea in mind, Matt placed Carl behind the
water-barrel, while he went around the corner.
Through the window on that side the young motorist stole a cautious
look.
Two men were leaning over a counter in the office. One was plainly an
Irishman, and the proprietor of the place, and the other was as plainly
Hank Brisco. Matt knew Brisco too well to be mistaken in him. Neither
Brisco nor the Irish proprietor had heard the approach of the Red
Flier, nor the entrance of Legree into the office.
With a grim smile on his face, and the revolver in his hand, Legree was
leaning against the wall, just inside the door, waiting for Brisco to
turn around.
"Begorry," the proprietor was saying, "fifty cints a gallon f'r th'
gasoline is all I'm afther chargin' yez. Oi know av robbers around here
who'd be chargin' yez a dollar a gallon, but that's not the way wid
Terence O'Grady. Fifty cints is th' most Oi'll take from yez. Fifteen
gallons at fifty cints is sivin-fifty; then wan dollar f'r oil makes
eight-fifty. Eight-fifty from tin laves wan an a half, an' there yez
are. Will yez shtay f'r dinner? Faith, we've as foine a male t'day as
yez iver put tooth in, an' a dollar is all ut will cost yez."
"I reckon I'll stay, O'Grady," replied Brisco, picking his change off
the counter and sliding it into his pocket.
Then he turned, and met the leveled weapon of Legree. Brisco's
astonishment was ludicrous to behold. And O'Grady was fully as startled.
"Phat th' blazes d'yez mean by thot?" and O'Grady jumped over the
counter and stood glaring at Legree.
"I'll explain," said Legree, with a coolness that filled Matt with
admiration, "but while I'm talking, O'Grady, don't get between the
point of this weapon and that man, there."
"Is ut a hould-up?" demanded O'Grady.
"Not at all. The man behind you knows me, and he knows that he owes me
a hundred and twenty dollars."
"I don't know anything of the kind," replied Brisco, every whit as cool
as Legree. "You've made a mistake, my man; and, besides, even if I did
owe you money, you're trying to collect it in the wrong way."
"Roight yez are!" put in O'Grady. "Shtick thot pisthol in yer pocket
an' go off wid yez. This is a dacint, rayspectible hotel, an' guns
ain't allowed in th' place at all, at all. Av yez don't hike, begorry,
Oi'll call in th' town marshal."
"Call the marshal," said Legree; "he's the man I'd like to have here.
That fellow who just bought gasoline and oil at this place is one of
the gang who robbed Tomlinson, the Denver jeweler, over west of Ash
Fork, and stole the automobile belonging to Nugent, the cattleman----"
Brisco began to laugh.
"What do you think of that, O'Grady?" he cried. "Why, that car you just
helped me fill with gasoline is Tomlinson's car! I'm taking it east for
him. Who this man is, or what game he's trying to play, is more than I
know."
Brisco was edging around toward the side window.
"Look out, Mr. Legree!" called Matt, through the opening. "He's trying
to get where he can drop out here."
Matt's words caused Brisco and O'Grady to swerve their glances in his
direction. A glint darted into Brisco's eyes at sight of Matt. Hank
Brisco had good reason to remember the young motorist.
"This looks like a put-up job, O'Grady," said Brisco, still keeping the
whip-hand of himself.
"Well, begob," cried O'Grady, "no pack av blackguards can come into
th' Shamrock Hotel an' shtir up throuble f'r me customers. Clear out
av here," he added, brandishing his fists, "or Oi'll be afther gittin'
busy wid me hands."
"Is that man the one who helped rob Tomlinson, Matt?" asked Legree,
nodding his head toward Brisco.
"He's the one," answered Matt. "I'd know him anywhere. Don't let
him----"
Just at that moment, O'Grady, wofully deceived, but thinking he was
doing exactly what was right, kicked a chair at Legree.
The chair struck Legree's shins with a force that hurled him back
against the wall.
"Now, then," roared O'Grady to Brisco, "make a run av it! Oi'll take
care av this boonch av meddlers!"
With that, he hurled himself upon Legree and the two began to struggle,
falling over the chair and dropping heavily on the floor.
They were directly across the doorway, and Brisco sprang for the front
window and pushed himself through it.
"Shtop a leedle!" whooped Carl, dodging around the rain-water barrel;
"you don'd got avay so easy as dot, und---- Himmelblitzen!"
Brisco had grabbed the barrel. That happened to be the dry season and
the barrel was empty. Giving it a whirl, he threw it against the Dutch
boy with a force that took him off his feet.
Thrashing his arms wildly, Carl laid himself down on the rolling barrel
and went caroming off toward the road.
Meantime, Matt, seeing that Brisco was making for the window guarded by
Carl, had rushed around to the front of the hotel. He reached the scene
of the scrimmage just in time to be grabbed by O'Grady.
The racket in the office had brought O'Grady's Chinese cook from the
kitchen; and, while the Chinaman continued the tussle with Legree, the
proprietor of the hotel had rushed out to see what more he could do for
the man who had paid him so well for gasoline and oil.
"Oi've got yez, yez meddlin' omadhoun!" shouted O'Grady. "Oi'll tach
yez t' come interferin' wid dacint people!"
With that he flung his arms around Motor Matt and hung to him with all
his strength.
"Hang onto him, O'Grady!" cried Brisco, dashing for the runabout.
"Niver yez fret!" panted the Irishman reassuringly; "good-by t' yez.
Next toime yez come we'll give yez betther treatment; there won't be so
many hoodlums around t'----"
"Let go!" shouted Matt. Then, suddenly freeing his hands, he struck the
deluded Irishman a quick blow.
O'Grady's hands relaxed for an instant. That instant gave Motor Matt
his opportunity, and he tore himself free.
About the same moment, Legree, hatless, angry, and chagrined, came
running out of the office.
"Where's Brisco?" he demanded.
Just then the question was answered by Brisco himself. The runabout,
leaping around the corner of the hotel, shot toward the road, a mocking
laugh from Brisco trailing out behind.
"Not this time, Legree!" called Brisco, over his shoulder. "Look out
for me, from now on--you and Motor Matt!"
The runabout was headed westward. In the rumble behind, lying partly
over the rumble-seat, was a dust-coat. It undoubtedly belonged to
Brisco, and he must have thrown it aside while attending to the
automobile, a few minutes before.
While Motor Matt and Legree stood staring at the receding car, the coat
lifted a little and a hand was waved.
"Great Scott!" cried Matt; "it's that boy."
Legree, far from showing any consternation, leaned against the wall of
the building and laughed softly.
Matt was amazed.
"What's the matter with you, Legree?" he demanded.
"I'm just enjoying a situation that has a bad outlook for Brisco," was
Legree's queer answer.
"It has a bad outlook for the boy, too," said Matt.
"Don't worry about Little Eva. I know him better than you do, and he'll
take care of himself."
At this moment the Chinaman came out of the hotel office and handed the
revolver to O'Grady.
"Oi've had about all Oi want av this rough-house!" shouted O'Grady,
his temper badly warped by the disturbance and the blow Matt had dealt
him. "Yez will shtay roight here, bedad, until Oi can have th' Chink go
afther th' town marshal. Go f'r Jennings, Ping," he added, flourishing
the weapon in the faces of Matt and Legree, "an hustle. We'll make this
slab-soided roosther laugh on t'other soide av his face befure we're
done wid him."