MEETING THE HINDOO.
Andy Carter, as it turned out, was playing his part in good faith.
Perhaps he reasoned that he had been sufficiently treacherous, and that
the very least he could do was to wind up a bad business on the square.
The basket, removed by him from the canvas wagon to prevent the Hindoo
from making off with it, had been carried to a clump of bushes not far
from the railroad tracks, on the north side of the show grounds, and
covered with a pile of broken sticks and other refuse.
Men were already pulling down some of the auxiliary tents and loading
them into wagons and driving the wagons to the waiting train. The
elephants and nearly all the animal cages had been loaded, while the
band wagons and the "chariots" had been stowed in their cars late in
the afternoon.
"I suppose you're through with me, now?" inquired Carter, after Burton
had secured the basket.
"I will be," said Burton, "as soon as I make sure that all the money is
here."
"You'll be too late to catch the Hindoo," demurred Carter, "if you
insist on going back to the wagon and counting over all that stuff."
"Then we'll lay the Hindoo by the heels before we count it. You can go
with us, Carter. It'll do you good to see the fellow caught."
"He'll kill me!" declared Carter, drawing back.
"I guess he won't. There are too many of us for him to cut up very
rough."
"If he sees all of us coming across the grounds, he'll suspect
something and sheer off."
"There's sense in that, all right," remarked Burton. "On the whole, I
believe I'll change my plans."
Burton stopped one of the wagons that was moving toward the train.
"Where's Harris?" he asked of the driver of the wagon.
"He's comin' right behind me," was the answer.
Harris was Burton's brother-in-law, and had always been in the
showman's confidence. He was riding on a pile of tent poles, holding a
couple of trunks on the load.
"Harris," called Burton, "I want you to take this basket down to the
train for me. Don't let it get out of your hands."
"Another snake in it, Burton?" queried Harris, as he reached down for
the basket.
"Well," answered Burton, "I wouldn't look into it to find out. Mind
what I say and don't let the basket get away from you."
Having been reassured on this point by Harris, Burton, Matt, McGlory,
and Carter moved on. Picking up two men at the dismantled animal tent,
Burton turned Carter over to them.
"Andy has resigned," the showman explained dryly to the men, "and he
wants to go to the train after his trunk. You men go with him, and keep
hold of him all the time. Understand? See that he don't take anything
but what belongs to him."
Carter was none too well liked among the show people, and the two men
agreed cheerfully to look after him.
"Now," said Burton, as he walked off with Matt and McGlory, "we're in
shape to meet the Hindoo. I don't know what I can do with the scoundrel
after I get my hands on him. If he is put in jail here, I'll have to
come back myself, or send somebody else, to make out a case against
him. That wouldn't do--it would only cause extra expense and a loss of
time. I guess we'll tie him up and take him along with us on section
two of the train."
"Dhondaram ought to be made pay for what he has done," said Matt.
"I think you ought to go to a little inconvenience, Burton, in the
interests of law and order."
"The inconveniences may be more than you think, Matt. Suppose you would
have to come back here to testify against the Hindoo? That would mean
no aëroplane work for two or three days. I couldn't stand for that."
By that time, the three were close to the south side of the grounds.
There were scattered clumps of bushes, here, and a few trees.
"We'd better hang back, Matt," whispered Burton, "while you go on and
do the whistling. We'll be near enough to help you when Dhondaram shows
himself. If he's too ugly, I'll use the revolver."
"He's got a bowie, Matt," cautioned McGlory. "Don't let him get a hack
at you with it. He could help out Ben Ali's scheme of vengeance a good
deal handier with the knife than with the cobra."
Matt stepped on ahead of Burton and McGlory, and began to whistle
softly. He had not gone twenty feet before the whistle was answered and
a dark figure stepped shadowily from behind some bushes.
"Carter Sahib!" came a low call.
"Dhondaram?" returned Matt.
"Here!" came the eager answer. "Have you brought the basket, sahib?"
"You know why I was to meet you," replied Matt, ignoring the question.
He disguised his voice as well as he could, and the low tone in which
he spoke served still further to hide his identity.
The Hindoo could see that Matt was not carrying anything, and evidently
his distrust was aroused.
"The sahib is fooling me!" he exclaimed. "You have not brought with you
the basket. Part of the money is mine."
Matt had supposed that the Hindoo would run, as soon as he detected the
trick. But he did not. On the contrary, he bounded straight at Matt and
caught him by the shoulders.
"I want you, Dhondaram!" cried Matt, dropping his attempts at
concealment. "You're a prisoner!"
Matt was strong, but the Hindoo was as slippery as an eel. With his
arms about him, Matt tried to hold the villain, and in a measure
succeeded. Dhondaram, however, heard the running feet and the voices of
Burton and McGlory and redoubled his desperate efforts to escape.
He broke from Matt's arms, but Matt caught his left wrist and clung to
it like a leech. With his right hand the Hindoo jerked his knife from
his sash and made a vicious lunge with it.
Matt avoided the lunge, and before the attack could be repeated the
showman and the cowboy had reached the scene.
Then, even with all three of them against him, Dhondaram made a
desperate resistance. But numbers prevailed, and the rascally
scoundrel's hands were bound at his back by means of his turban, which
was opened out and twisted into a makeshift rope.
"He's a fighter, and no mistake," panted Burton, as he held the
prisoner by one arm while McGlory took the other. "No more nonsense,
Dhondaram," the showman threatened, flashing the weapon in front of his
eyes. "You see what I've got? Well, look out that I don't use it."
The six-shooter, dimly visible in the gloom, had a quieting effect on
the Hindoo.
"Don't shoot, sahib," he begged. "I go where you want."
"That's better," said Burton. "Trot along, and we'll soon be where
we're going."
Their destination was the train, and they presently had Dhondaram
in the sleeping car attached to section two. Very few of the show
people had arrived, as yet, and an attempt was made to get a little
information out of the prisoner.
But the Hindoo would not talk. In response to every question put to
him, he shook his head and held his tongue.
"He'll talk with us in the morning," said Burton confidently. "Just tie
his feet, boys, and leave him here. I've got to go back to the ticket
wagon."
Matt and McGlory made the prisoner's feet secure, and a tap on the
window called Matt's attention. Thinking it might be Burton, wishing to
give him a private message, Matt left the car.
It was not Burton, but Carter and the two men set to watch him. Carter
wanted his hat and coat.
While Matt was returning the borrowed garments, Carl and Ping came
along, talking amiably with each other. Matt sent them into the car to
look after the Hindoo, and also to tell McGlory to come out and help
prepare the aëroplane for loading.
"I don't know, pard," said McGlory, as he and Matt made their way
hastily to the place where the _Comet_ had been left, "but I reckon the
motor boys have got a little the best of this ruction that Dhondaram
kicked up. Burton has recovered the stolen money, Carter has been
fired, and Dhondaram is a prisoner. Luck's on our side after all, eh?"
"That's the way it looks," answered Matt.