THE GLASS SPHERES.
Tremors shook the one-eyed sailor. The satchel quivered in his hands.
Pryne was filled with consternation, and showed it as plainly as did
Bunce. The full meaning of the situation had not dawned on Goldstein
as yet, but the light was slowly breaking. Grattan alone, of all those
confronting Matt, seemed in full possession of his wits.
"Don't throw that, don't throw that!" stuttered Bunce. "Avast, I say!"
"Where'd he get the thing?" demanded Pryne.
"Clever lad!" murmured Grattan. "You must have taken that out of the
box during the disturbance caused by Goldstein. I saw you by the table,
but I didn't think that was your game. Well, what are you intending to
do? You have one of the balls and I have three. I don't know that I
grasp your intentions."
"If these glass balls are broken," answered Matt steadily, "it means
that all of us, every person in this room, will be stretched out on the
floor, unconscious and helpless. Those outside will escape the effects
of the narcotic, or whatever it is contained in the spheres. Those who
are at the door happen to be my friends. They will wait a space; then,
after the fumes have cleared out of the room, they will come in, make
prisoners of you, Bunce and Pryne, save Goldstein's money for him, and
recover the Eye of Buddha."
"Let me understand this fully," continued Grattan. "How do you know
those outside are your friends?"
"Listen," said Matt. "McGlory!" he called.
"On deck, pard!" came the answer of the cowboy. "You're in a nice row
of stumps, I must say. Who's in there with you?"
"Grattan, Bunce, Goldstein, and Pryne."
"What's the layout?"
"I'm on a bench at one side of the room with one of the glass balls.
Grattan stands opposite me with three more. If I throw the ball I'm
holding, then I want you fellows to wait until it's safe to come in."
"Speak to me about that!"
Grattan was thoughtful.
"How did those fellows manage to find their way here?" he asked.
"Pryne had a sack of ground feed in the back of the wagon. I slashed it
with my knife and we left a plain trail."
"Jumpin' Mariar!" breathed Pryne.
"You've hit it off nicely, Pryne!" scowled Grattan. "Annabelle ought
to be proud of you for that. Bunce isn't the only fool I've been
tied up with, this time." He turned again to the king of the motor
boys. "You're deeper than I imagined, but you're a point shy in your
reasoning, son. You'll not get the Eye of Buddha by proceeding in that
fashion. I was dealing generously with you when I offered to trade the
ruby for Goldstein's money."
"You have no right to rob Goldstein," said Matt. "I couldn't help you
without being equally guilty."
"Goot boy!" applauded Goldstein. "That's der truth."
"This diamond merchant," argued Grattan, "is only a 'fence' for stolen
property. He came out here to cheat me, cheat Tsan Ti, cheat the law.
We're simply beating him at his own game."
"Two wrongs never made a right," answered Matt.
"You talk foolishly. But, even though you carry out your plan, I say
again _you will not get the Eye of Buddha_. That is safely hidden where
it will never be found. Besides--look at Bunce."
Matt had been giving his full attention to Grattan. He now swerved his
eyes toward the sailor and found a revolver leveled in his direction.
"Here's Scoldin' Sairy starin' ye in the face," said Bunce. "Don't
tease us no more or she'll speak."
"The moment that ball leaves your hand, Motor Matt," declared Grattan,
"Bunce will fire. The rest of us will be left merely unconscious on the
floor, but you--well, you're clever enough to imagine what will happen
to _you_. Are you willing to talk sense? I promise to leave the Eye of
Buddha with Goldstein in exchange for his satchel of money, but we must
be allowed to escape with the satchel."
"I'll not help you rob Goldstein," answered Matt.
"Ye'd rather be sent to Davy Jones' locker, I suppose?" put in Bunce.
"That's where ye'll go, as quick an' sure as though ye was wrapped in
canvas and thrown over the side with a hundred-pound shot at yer pins."
Goldstein, palpitating between hope and despair, watched and listened
to this crossfire of threat and defiance wherein the fate of his money
was at stake. A half-crazy light arose in his eyes and he seemed
meditating some desperate move.
Grattan lifted his voice.
"Hello, out there! We've got Motor Matt under the point of a revolver,
and if you don't retreat from the vicinity of this hut, there'll be
shooting."
"Is that so, pard!" came wildly from McGlory.
"Stay where you are," cried Matt. "They won't shoot--they don't dare."
"Bunce," began Grattan, "you'd better----"
Grattan had no time to finish. With a wild yell of fury Goldstein flung
himself at Grattan and seized the buckthorn cane, jerking it away and
whirling it about his head.
"The buckthorn!" shouted Bunce, in more of a panic than the Jew's
manoeuvre seemed to call for; "he's got the buckthorn cane!"
Grattan let go of his temper for the first time, and whirled and leaped
at Goldstein. The Jew struck at him viciously, the blow falling short
and knocking the box of glass balls out of his hand and upon the floor.
"Mask! mask!" bellowed Grattan.
The box flew open as it fell and Matt caught a glimpse of broken glass
fragments flying out of it, and of something white lifted to the faces
of Grattan and Bunce. All was turmoil in the room. Grattan rushed
at Goldstein and tried to recover the cane. Matt flung at him the
ball--the last conscious act the king of the motor boys could remember.
The pungent odor arose to his nostrils, choking him, blinding his eyes
and robbing him of his strength. He crashed down from the bench, and
then a mighty hand seemed to sweep over him and drop a black pall of
silence.
Motor Matt opened his eyes. He was lying out in the sun, the bare
boughs of the maples over him, and McGlory kneeling at his side.
"You had a rough time of it, old pard," said McGlory, "but you didn't
stop a bullet--and that's some satisfaction."
Matt groped around in his mind to pick up the trend of events. Suddenly
all the details flashed through his brain.
"What became of Grattan and Bunce?" he asked, sitting up.
"They smashed through a boarded-up window, pard," replied McGlory.
"And got away?"
"Like a couple of streaks. They used our motor cycles."
"Why don't you follow them?"
"Follow them? What's the good? That happened an hour ago. The Purling
constable rushed back to the village to do some telephoning, and it's
barely possible the two tinhorns will be corralled. I wouldn't bank on
it, though. Luck hasn't been coming that way for us since we struck the
Catskills."
"An hour ago!" muttered Matt, rubbing his forehead. "It seems as though
all this excitement had only just happened."
"That's the way those dope balls act. I was afraid of 'em. And it
wasn't so blooming pleasant for us fellows to stand out here while
all that ruction was going on in the house. When One Eye and his pal
crashed through the window--or maybe it wasn't a window but a hole in
the wall that was just patched up with boards--we all took after 'em.
Out close to the road they jumped on a couple of motor cycles--ours, by
the looks of them--and were off a-smoking. When they came out of the
cabin they had white things over their faces----"
"Masks," said Matt. "They had them handy. But for that you'd have found
them in the cabin along with Goldstein and me. By the way, where _is_
Goldstein?"
"We left him in the house. We weren't in so much of a hurry to bring
him to his senses as we were you."
"And Pryne--what's become of him?"
"Stretched out beside the diamond buyer."
"Did you find the Eye of Buddha?"
"That's a dream, Matt. No, we didn't find it. All we found was a
satchel of money--the satchel Goldstein had with him at the store in
Purling."
"There were six of you--five with the constable. Where are the other
four?"
"The constable miscalled the number," laughed McGlory, "so his talk
would have a bigger effect. There were only four of us all told. You
see, we left the driver of the car in Purling to look after Bunce when
he showed up there. And he was here, all the time! Sufferin' surprises!
Say, I was sure stumped when I heard the Hottentot was in that cabin."
"There were three besides you," went on Matt, persisting in his attempt
to get the matter of numbers straight in his mind, "and the constable
has gone to Purling. Where are the other two?"
"Here they come," and McGlory pointed to a couple of Chinamen, who at
that moment emerged from the hut.
Matt stared and rubbed his eyes.
"Am I still under the influence of those glass balls?" he muttered, "or
is that really Tsan Ti coming this way?"
"It's the mandarin, fast enough," chuckled McGlory, "and the chink
that's with him is Sam Wing."
Observing that Matt had recovered his senses, Tsan Ti hastened forward.