THE LACQUERED BOX.
Probably that Kentucky horse of Burton's had never been treated in his
life as he was that afternoon. He was muddy with sweat and dust, and
his high-strung spirits, by that time thoroughly aroused, rebelled
against the curb.
In order to help Carl out, Motor Matt drove the car past the horse and
partly across the road. This served to bring the animal to a halt.
"By Jove!" stormed Burton, "I wouldn't have had this happen for a
hundred dollars! It's a wonder if the horse isn't ruined!"
He flopped out of the automobile and approached the horse's head.
"Whoa, Colonel!" he murmured soothingly. "Whoa, old boy!"
Then, getting one hand on the bit, he held the animal while he petted
and wheedled and patted the lathered neck.
"Der rig vas shtole py der Hindoo," said Carl, "und I haf recofered it
und prought it pack. Dot comes oof being a goot tedectif, py shinks!
How mooch iss id vort'?"
"Worth?" scowled Burton. "If the animal is injured I'll charge you up
for it. Don't you know how to take care of a horse?"
"Don'd you vas going to pay me someding?" gasped Carl.
"Pay?" snorted Burton, in no mood to consider a reward after seeing his
favorite horse mistreated. "Why, I feel like I wanted to use the whip
on you! What did you run away from us for?"
"I t'ought you vas der Hindoos," explained Carl feebly. "Say, Matt,"
he added, turning to his chum, "der feller don't vas going to gif me
someding! Vat a miserliness! Und me going droo all vat I dit!"
"Where did you get the runabout, Carl?" asked Matt.
He thought Boss Burton was a little unreasonable, but was not disposed
to make any comments. Burton's ways were sometimes far from meeting
Matt's approval--and they had never been farther from it than during
the events of that exciting day.
"I shteal him from der Hindoos," said Carl, "und make some gedavays
by der shkin oof my teet', you bed you! I hat to run der horse, Matt,
oder I vouldn't have made der esgape. Vone oof der Hindoos had a knife,
und dey vas bot' det safage I can't dell. Der odder horse vat pulled
der cage vagon iss somevere aheadt. He got avay und vent like some
shdreaks."
"You climb down," snapped Burton, coming back to the side of the
runabout. "I'll take the rig back to the grounds and send one of the
teamsters for the monkey wagon. You'll bring along the automobile,
Matt?" he added, getting into the runabout as Carl got out.
"Yes," answered Matt.
"Ain't you going on with us to look up the Hindoos and Haidee?" asked
McGlory. "Going to hang back before we run out the trail, Burton?"
"I don't care anything about them," was the reply, "so long as I've
recovered my own property. What's this?" and the showman picked up the
lacquered box.
Carl stared at it. Evidently he had forgotten all about it, up to that
moment.
"Py chimineddy!" he muttered. "Dot's der Hindoo's! He tropped id on der
seat pefore I run avay mit der rig."
"Then I'll take it with me," said Burton. "Perhaps it's of enough value
so that the rascal will come after it. If he does, I can read the riot
act to him."
"I guess you'd better leave that with Carl, Burton," spoke up Matt.
"You don't care to bother with the Hindoos, and we may think it's worth
while."
"Oh, well, if that's the way you feel about it," and the showman tossed
the box to Carl. "Mind," he added, as he started off, "you're not to
get into any trouble with that automobile."
Burton was soon out of sight.
"He's the limit, that fellow!" growled McGlory. "He might have tipped
Carl a five-case note, but he wouldn't. He's a skinner."
"Nodding doing in der tedectif pitzness," said Carl resignedly, getting
into the automobile beside Matt. "Same like alvays I ged der vorst oof
id. Vile vorking on der Manners gase, I haf peen in a row mit Ping, in
a row mit a canvasman und a 'parker' for der site-show, in some more
rows mit a shtable feller, got kicked in der pack mit a mu-el, und
carried avay in some vagons vat shmelled like a glue factory. Und vat
I ged? Dot Purton feller he say he vould like to pound me mit der vip.
Ach, vell, ve can't pecome greadt tedectifs mitoudt a leedle hardt luck
at her shtart."
"Tell us what happened to you, Carl," said Matt, "and be quick about
it."
Carl sketched his adventures, with now and then an urging toward
brevity from Matt.
"Ven I see dot Hindoo coming, at der time he made some brisoners
oof me," expounded Carl, on reaching that part of his recital, "I
remempered der girl vat come down in der flying machine, und vat he
valked avay mit, und I got der t'ought, like lightning, dot meppy der
feller know someding aboudt Markaret Manners, vat iss atverdised for
in der Lonton baper. Abner nit, it don'd vas der case. I schust let
meinseluf pertend dot I vas mesmerized so dot I could go along by der
Hindoo und meppy findt oudt someding. I don't findt oudt anyt'ing."
Carl's disgust was great, and he brought his story to a quick
conclusion.
"We'll go look for the Hindoos and Haidee," said Matt. "As I jog along,
Carl, you keep watch for the place where you turned from the road.
Meanwhile, Joe," Matt added, "you take the lacquered box and open it.
We'll see what's inside. The contents may shed a little light on this
mystery of the girl."
"Der Hindoos und der girl von't be vere dey vas," remarked Carl,
handing the box to McGlory.
"They can't possibly be far away," answered Matt. "They have to travel
on foot, now, and will be compelled to go slow."
"This box is locked, pard," called McGlory.
"Force the lid, then," said Matt. "It's necessary, according to my
notion, that we try and find out something about Haidee. And for the
girl's good."
McGlory opened his pocketknife and inserted the blade between the box
and the lid. The lock splintered out under pressure.
"She's open, pard," announced the cowboy.
"What's inside?"
"A bundle of letters tied with a piece of twine."
"Ah!"
"They have English stamps," went on McGlory, "and are postmarked at
London."
"Better and better! And they're addressed to----"
"Miss Margaret Manners, Calcutta, India."
Carl nearly fell off the seat.
"Ach, du lieber!" he sputtered, "I vas ketching my breat'. A clue, py
shinks! Dot Haidee knows vere der fife-t'ousant-tollar girl iss, I bed
you!"
"Knows where the girl is?" echoed Matt.
"Sure t'ing. How vouldt Haidee haf Markaret Manners' ledders oof she
ditn't know somet'ing aboudt der English girl? A few more knocks, py
shiminy, und I vill make der fife t'ousant tollars!"
"Carl," said Matt, "you've got a wooden head when it comes to
sleuthing. Why, Haidee is Margaret Manners herself. I've had a hunch to
that effect for two or three hours."
Once more Carl had to hold on with both hands to keep from going by the
board. He could only breathe hard and think of what he would do with
all the money that was coming to him.
"What else is there in the box, Joe?" asked Matt. "Anything but the
letters?"
"Just one thing, pard," replied McGlory. "It looks like a decoration of
some kind."
McGlory held the object over Matt's shoulder, so he could see it.
It was a bronze Maltese cross, with a royal crown in the centre
surmounted by a lion, and the words "For Valour" stamped on the cross
under the crown. The cross hung from a V-shaped piece attached to a
bar, and the bar was attached to a faded red ribbon. Across the bar
was engraved the name "Lionel Manners."
"I feel like taking off my hat in the presence of that, pards," said
Matt.
"Why?" demanded Joe.
"It's a Victoria Cross," returned Matt, "and is only given to persons
for a deed of gallantry and daring. When the ribbon is red, it shows
that the winner of the cross belonged to the army; when blue, to
the navy. Captain Lionel Manners must have been a brave man, and
it's a pity his daughter should be treated as she has been. Carl,
you've blundered onto a big thing--and you couldn't have blundered so
successfully once in a thousand times. Put the letters and the cross
back in the box, Joe. We'll keep them safe for the girl. If----"
"Dere's der blace," interrupted Carl, pointing to the roadside.
Motor Matt brought the automobile to a stop.