THE MYSTERY DEEPENS.
The effect of Matt's announcement on Carl was startling. The Dutch boy,
of course, might be supposed to evince some surprise at finding the bag
of pearls, but his amazement went so deep it left him speechless. More
than that, his astonishment grew rather than lessened.
"Bearls!" he whispered, as soon as he could find his voice, staring
strangely at Matt over the side of the tonneau. "Iss dot vat you say,
Matt--bearls?"
"Yes," answered Matt excitedly, counting the contents of the bag.
"There are twenty of them, Carl, and I know that black pearls bring a
big price."
"Veil, by shinks und den some!" wheezed Carl. "Vouldn't dot knock you
slap-sited? Bearls! Und vat vas dot t'ing I findt me in Pringle's room.
Say, Matt, I got to shpeak mit you, righdt avay!"
"We've got to take care of the man, Carl," returned Matt, closing the
silk bag and stowing it carefully in his pocket. "This is a big thing
we're up against, and we've got to handle it right. Make the man as
comfortable as you can. I'll go back after his hat and then we'll
hustle him into Ash Fork."
Carl went about his work mechanically, his face full of wonder. Matt
returned to the place where the man had been found, picked up his
automobile-cap and gave a hasty look around for anything else that
might have been dropped. Failing to find anything, he returned quickly
to the car.
"You better stay in the tonneau, Carl," suggested Matt, "and keep the
man from being jarred off the seat."
"I vant to talk," said Carl; "py chimineddy, I got to shpeak mit you
aboudt vat has habbened mit me. I don'd ged der time since der Chinks
blayed tag mit me, und----"
Matt was cranking the machine. As he came around and crawled into the
front seat, he looked back to see that everything was all right.
"You can talk while we run into town, Carl," said he, throwing in the
clutch and manipulating the side lever.
"Pefore you ged to going too fast," said Carl, leaning over the back of
the seat and pushing a scrap of paper under Matt's eyes, "read dot."
There were only a few words on the sheet, and Matt read them almost at
a glance. What he read thrilled him on the instant.
"Pearls on the way. Break loose and meet us as per letter sent you at
Albuquerque."
It was the one word, "pearls," that sent an electric shock through
Matt's nerves.
"Where'd that note come from?" he asked, keeping his eyes ahead on the
road.
"Dot's all vot Pringle left pehindt," answered Carl, putting the note
back in his pocket. "Ven he flew der coop he took mit him der trunk
mit eferyding else vat he hat. Yah, so. Ven I knocked py his room in
der morning, I don'd ged no answer. I knock some more, und den I findt
me der door vas oben, und I valk in mit meinseluf. No Pringle. No
trunk. No nodding aber schust dot paper lying on der floor. Pringle hat
vamoosed. He took vat money dere vas, und my shdreet clodings, so I hat
to vear my stage make-oop."
"Where were you and Pringle at the time?"
"Py Flagstaff."
"What were you doing in Flagstaff?"
"Ve vas a knockaboudt moosickal team. Yah, so. Ve use a shlap-shtick,
und make some monkey-doodle pitzness, und I blay der zillyphone, und
der drompone, und der moosickal glasses, und der sleigh-pells. Pringle
he blow der horn und plinkety-plunk der pancho. Ve vas vorkin' our
vay agross der gontinent py San Francisco, vere ve blay a circuit in
vaudeville. Aber Pringle he pull out mit himseluf, und I vas left in
some lurches. I go on py Ash Fork, and t'ink meppy Pringle come up from
Phoenix, so I vait py Ash Fork. Vell, he leaf me doo shirts und dree
pairs oof socks, und vile I peen in Ash Fork vaiting, I dake dem py
Hop Loo. Ach, I haf some pooty pad dimes vile I vait for Pringle, aber
I vas jeerful. Now I t'ink meppy he don'd vas in Phoenix ad all, und
dot he vas in Tenver. Dere iss somet'ing in dot note aboudt bearls. Ve
findt bearls in dot leedle pag. Funny, ain't dot? For vy iss id, Matt?"
Matt couldn't answer that question. The mystery was deepening.
"Somebody sent that note to Pringle, Carl, and he cut loose from you."
"Yah, so. He cut loose from me und he dook eferyt'ing vat I haf. He vas
a pad egg, you bed you. Oof I ketch him vonce, I make him t'ink he vas
hit mit some cyclones!"
"The fellow who wrote that note may not have meant that these pearls in
the bag were 'on the way.'"
"Meppy nod, aber it looks doo keveer for a habbenchance. It gif me a
cholt, Matt, ven you saidt dose t'ings vas bearls, und I recollectioned
vat vas saidt in der note about bearls. Meppy Pringle und some odder
pad egg dry to holt dis feller oop und dake der pag avay from him."
"That may be. How is the man now?"
"Aboudt der same like he vas."
Matt had been driving the car at a smart clip, and they had taken the
turn in the road and were reaching out for the main street of the town.
There was a doctor's office across the street from the hotel, and Matt
drew up in front of it. Some loungers on the sidewalk, observing the
unconscious form in the tonneau, began crowding around the car and
asking questions.
"I don't know what's the matter," said Matt. "We found this car running
away and picked up the man from the roadside. Is the doctor in?"
The doctor himself looked from a second-story window and answered the
question. Some of the bystanders helped remove the man from the tonneau
and carry him up the stairs to the doctor's office. Matt and Carl
followed.
"Keep quiet, Carl," whispered Matt to the Dutch boy; "don't tell any of
these people what we've found. That information will have to go to the
officers."
"Sure t'ing," returned Carl, with a wink. "I know more as you t'ink,
Matt. Ve ought to ged a rake-off on dot pag. Id vould be easy to be
jeerful mit a rake-off."
The unconscious man was laid down on a couch in the doctor's office,
and the room was cleared of all the morbidly curious people. Only Matt
and Carl were left with the doctor.
The latter, busily stripping away the blood-stained bandage, kept up a
running fire of talk as he worked.
He wanted to know all about the runaway car, how it had been stopped,
just where the man had been found, whether he had been unconscious ever
since he was picked up, and so on.
Carl let Matt answer the questions, and Matt was glad that none of the
doctor's remarks brought up anything about the pearls.
"His injury is not serious," said the doctor. "His forehead has been
grazed by a bullet. A tight squeak, but in a case like this a miss is
always as good as a mile."
"Why is he unconscious?" queried Matt.
"Just weak from loss of blood. We'll bring him around in a jiffy, and
then he can tell all about what happened to him."
The doctor proceeded to cleanse the man's wound, and to put on a fresh
bandage. Then, holding up his head, he forced a stimulant between his
lips.
"He must be a wealthy man," remarked the doctor, his eyes on the
watch-chain and the good clothes. "But what does a wealthy man want to
be pounding around the country for--especially a country like this--all
by himself?"
Before either Matt or Carl could hazard a guess, the man gave a slight
start and opened his eyes. For an instant he stared blankly into the
faces of the doctor and the boys, muttered something, and tried to get
up.
"I wouldn't do that," said the doctor. "You're weak, yet. Wait till
you get a little strength. Here, drink some more of this."
The man took another swallow of the stimulant, and seemed to get better
control of himself.
"How did I come here?" he asked.
Matt, obeying a gesture from the doctor, told how the car had been
stopped, and how he and Carl had gone back along the road and found the
man unconscious among the bushes.
For a minute or two after hearing Matt's explanations the man lay
silent and thoughtful.
"If you did all that," said he to Matt finally, "you must know how to
run a car."
Matt nodded.
"I used to work for a motor company in Albany," he answered, "and they
had me give demonstrations. I had to know all about cars and take out a
license."
A queer gleam arose in the man's eyes.
"I am James Q. Tomlinson, of Denver," said he, "and have been touring
Southern California and Arizona for my health. With my chauffeur, I
came up from Yuma in the 'Red Flier,' and the chauffeur was taken sick
at the Needles. Am expecting to pick up a friend in Flagstaff. The
friend is waiting there for me, and I thought I would drive the car
through to Flagstaff from the Needles myself. I found I didn't know as
much about it as I thought I did. However, I managed to peg along.
"Early this morning, about twenty miles out of Ash Fork, I was set
upon by three masked men. They ordered me to stop, but I opened up
the machine and made a run past them. The scoundrels fired at me, and
one of their bullets grazed my head. I was stunned for a moment, but
managed to keep my senses and hold the automobile in the road. Had an
idea that I could get to Ash Fork, but somehow I kept growing weaker
and weaker. It became hard for me to manage the steering-wheel, so
I tied it with a rope; then, all at once, the car tilted, and I was
thrown out.
"I can remember falling into the road, and crawling to some bushes
where I could be out of the hot sun. After that my wits left me, and I
remember nothing more until now."
A knock fell on the door of the outer office. The doctor excused
himself for a moment and went out, closing the door of the private
office behind him.
As soon as he was gone, Mr. Tomlinson's manner changed quickly.
Thrusting a hand into his pocket, he withdrew it with a cry of alarm.
Then he fixed upon Matt and Carl a suspicious look.
"Did you boys see anything of a bag, a little green silk bag?" he
demanded.
Matt took the bag from his pocket and handed it to him.
"It dropped out of your coat as we were lifting you into the car," said
he.
A gasp of relief went up from the man.
"Do you know what it contains?" he queried, opening the bag with
trembling fingers.
"Pearls," said Matt, "twenty black pearls."
Assuring himself that the pearls were all in the bag, Tomlinson closed
it and pushed it into his pocket.
"These pearls are worth thirty thousand dollars," said he, in a guarded
tone. "You boys are honest, and will be rewarded, but say nothing to
anybody about the bag. Understand?"
Matt nodded, and just then the doctor came in with a roughly dressed
individual whom he introduced as a deputy sheriff.