MOTOR CAR AND AEROPLANE.
It was about nine o'clock in the evening when Matt was awakened by the
arrival of McGlory and Twomley. Burton, curious and eager, came into
the calliope tent with them.
"I'll tell you what my plan is," said Matt, sitting up on the edge of
the cot, "and then you can all go to bed and get a good night's rest.
Ben Ali is a crafty scoundrel, and it is necessary for us to capture
him in order to find out what he has done with Miss Manners."
"That's the point," approved Twomley. "If we can't get hold of Ben Ali,
the Secret Service men will have a bally time locating the girl."
"I'm inclined to think that Bill Wily told nothing but the truth,"
proceeded Matt.
"You never can tell about Wily," struck in Burton. "It's because he's
so shifty and unreliable that they call him Wily Bill. I wouldn't bank
too much on what he says."
"It's neck or nothing with him," suggested Twomley. "He has everything
to lose by not telling the truth, and I believe the fellow appreciates
that fact."
"You can gamble a blue stack he does!" declared McGlory. "Did you see
the look Dhondaram gave him while he was handing us that long palaver?
If the Hindoo ever gets foot-loose, I wouldn't stand in Wily's shoes
for a bushel of pesos."
"To my mind," said Matt, "the fact that Dhondaram was in that house
proves the truth of Wily's story. Well, true or false, my whole plan
is built up on what the 'barker' told us. We're to assume that Ben Ali
will be in that oak opening, five miles from Grand Rapids on the Elgin
road."
"Who knows whether there's an opening there or not?" asked Burton.
When the showman once lost confidence in a man, he put no trust in
anything the man might do or say.
"The opening is there," said Matt. "I went out in an automobile and saw
it for myself."
"Ah! So that's what you passed up the afternoon flight for, eh?"
"Partly," answered Matt. "Now, let us suppose that Ben Ali is in that
opening to-morrow, waiting for Dhondaram to arrive with money which
Ben Ali thinks he has stolen. Quite likely the Hindoo will have some
one with him--perhaps the old ticket man whom you discharged, Burton,
and perhaps Aurung Zeeb. This ticket man has played the part of the
agent representing the British ambassador in turning that trick in
Lafayette----"
"Sufferin' traitors!" chanted McGlory. "I've a hunch, pard, your
finger's on the right button."
"So," pursued Matt, "it is fair to assume that Ben Ali has some one
to watch the Elgin road in the vicinity of the oak opening. If he is
warned that any suspicious persons are approaching, the Hindoo will
slide away snakelike and dodge pursuit."
Twomley nodded.
"You're a fair daisy, Motor Matt, in placing the situation squarely in
front of us. By Jove, it looks like a hard nut to crack."
"Matt will crack it," averred McGlory. "Listen, now, to how he proposes
to do it."
"How are you going about it?" inquired Burton impatiently. "I've had
this on my mind ever since you and I left the house with the green
shutters, and I can't tell how nervous you make me hanging fire about
it. Seems like a mighty simple thing to go out in the woods, meet a
fellow where he intends to be, and nab him."
"Not so deuced simple as you suppose, Mr. Burton," returned Twomley,
"when you consider the character of the man, and his ability to make
passes, look at you, and give you your ticket to the Land of Nod."
"We're going to work out this problem by motor car and aëroplane," said
Matt.
"Aëroplane!" exclaimed McGlory. "That means you and me, pard."
"The motor car for you, Joe," smiled Matt. "You and Twomley, and Burton
will go along the Elgin road in that."
"What's the good?" demurred Burton. "You all seem to think it a cinch
that the car will be seen, and that Ben Ali will get out of the way."
"You'll lag behind, you and your car," continued Matt, "and you'll let
me and the aëroplane move ahead. I'll keep over the road as well as I
can, and you can see me. When I sight our quarry I'll descend; then you
can put on all speed and come up."
"The aëroplane will be a dead give-away!" asserted Burton. "Ben Ali and
his outposts will see that as quick, or quicker, than they will the
automobile."
"Suppose Ben Ali sees only one man on the machine, and thinks that the
man is Dhondaram?" asked Matt. "Would he run, then?"
There was a silence, a startled silence, while the words of the young
motorist were being pondered by his listeners.
"How'll Ben Ali think Dhondaram is running the _Comet_, pard?" queried
McGlory.
"Because the man on the aëroplane will not look very much like Motor
Matt, and _will_ look a little like a Hindoo."
"You're going to make up for the part?"
"It won't be much of a make-up. A white robe over my ordinary clothes
will do."
"But your face----"
"In the air and at a distance, my face won't tell against the
deception. When the _Comet_ has landed in the opening, then it will
be Ben Ali and me for it--with an automobile full of reinforcements
rushing to the scene."
"It sounds good," said McGlory thoughtfully.
"Here's something," observed Twomley, who had a clear head and a quick
brain. "Ben Ali can think for himself. Won't he think it queer that
Dhondaram is navigating the flying machine? Dhondaram, I make no doubt,
is highly gifted, but will Ben Ali credit him with skill enough to
operate the aëroplane?"
"He may not," admitted Matt; "still, if Ben Ali sees the machine, and
a man in it who looks like Dhondaram, even if Ben Ali doubts he'll
hold his ground in order to make sure. Ben Ali won't run from one man.
Besides, he's expecting Dhondaram. That's a weighty point."
"I believe it will work," said Twomley. "At any rate, it will hold Ben
Ali in the opening until the automobile has a chance to come close.
Then the scoundrel is ours, no matter what he tries to do. By Jove, I
like the idea!"
"Another thing," spoke up McGlory. "If Ben Ali smells a rat and tries
to make a run, Matt can keep over him and follow him."
"Hardly that, Joe," returned Matt. "The woods are pretty thick along
the Elgin road, and you know how big the top of a tree looks when
you're gazing down on it. Besides, if there's any wind, the _Comet_ is
going to be a fair-sized handful to take care of."
"There you are," said Burton. "How do you know the opening is big
enough for you to come down in? It won't do," and something akin to
panic took hold of the showman, "to damage the aëroplane."
"Oh, go off somewhere, Burton, and wring out your wet blanket," growled
McGlory. "You're tryin' to throw it over everything."
"We've got to get a look at this business from every angle," said
Burton doggedly.
"Well, be easy about the oak opening," came from Matt. "It's large
enough to alight in and to start from. If there's only a little wind,
there'll be no danger."
The Englishman reached over and took Matt's hand.
"Allow me," said he, with a solemn handshake. "Win or lose, my bucko,
you have my admiration."
Matt flushed.
"Why," said he, "this is all talk, as yet, Twomley."
"It's the sort of talk, my lad, that precedes notable achievements.
Nine-tenths of all the great work that's done owes more to the head
than to the hands. What about the automobile?"
"That will be here at eight o'clock in the morning."
"You even thought of that! I suppose I'll have to be catching a car for
town."
Twomley got up and flung away the remains of a cigarette.
"You'd better stay here," suggested Matt. "There's an extra cot behind
the calliope, and I'm sure Burton will give you your breakfast in the
morning."
Twomley cast a glance around him. The odor from the animal tent,
of which the calliope house was only a lean-to, was strong and
disquieting. A lantern, tied to one of the tent poles, shed a murky
light over the litter of buckets and ropes that strewed the tent floor.
Matt had made ready for bed by kicking off his shoes and removing his
coat and hat. It was all very primitive. In Washington Twomley looked
as though he might have been of a fastidious nature. But, whatever he
was at Washington, he was "game" at Reid's Lake.
"Go you," said he briefly. "Just where is that cot, my dear sir?"
McGlory dragged it out for him and opened it up.
"I'll pull it away from the wall of the animal top," said the cowboy.
"Rajah, the bad elephant, is just on the other side of that piece of
canvas, and he has the habit of snooping around in here with his trunk."
"I don't fancy Rajah will bother me," and Twomley shucked out of his
low patent leathers.
"I could almost make a pard out of you," remarked McGlory.
"Nice work you've mapped out for Sunday," was Burton's sly fling as he
paused at the door on his way out. "Motor Matt, who refused to make
flights on Sunday for me for an extra hundred a week, lays out to pull
off a go like this! Well, I'm surprised."
"Fate is no respecter of the calendar, Burton," Matt replied, with
some show of feeling. "I'll work all day to-morrow if I can accomplish
anything for Margaret Manners."
"Shake again," said the attaché.