CHAPTER XV.
A STARTLING INTERRUPTION.
The parlor at La Vita Place, as has already been stated, covered halfof the first floor of the house. The distinctive feature of the largeroom was an immense fireplace, which, after the Mexican fashion, wasbuilt across one corner. Above the fireplace, on the angling surfacethat reached from wall to wall, was a dingy, life-size painting of asaint. The painting was in a heavy frame, which was set flush with thewall.
There were a few things about the old adobe _casa_ which had been leftexactly as they had come into Mr. Lawton's hands from the originalMexican owners of the place. This picture of the saint was one of them.
The parlor was finely furnished. The floors were laid with tiger andlion-skins, trophies of the chase, and on every hand were curiosand ornaments dear to the eccentric old Englishman because of theirassociations.
In this room Sercomb and his Denver friends were gathered. They had hadtheir breakfast--Mings and Packard had just finished theirs--and allwere excitedly discussing what Mings and Packard had done, and whatthey had seen.
Mings and Packard, it may be stated, had been sufficiently sobered bytheir experiences, and not a little frightened.
"Confound the luck, anyhow!" cried Sercomb. "Nothing seems to go rightwith me. If you fellows had got hold of Ferral last night, all thiscouldn't have happened to-day."
"If we'd done that, Ralph," said Mings gloomily, "we don't know whatwould have happened to-day. Motor Matt and that Dutch pal of his wouldhave been left, and they'd have kicked up a big ruction when they foundFerral had disappeared."
"We could have taken care of Motor Matt and the Dutchman," snappedSercomb, "and Mings and Packard could have run Ferral away in theautomobile and dropped him so close to the quicksands that he'd havewandered into them in the dark. He'd never have shown up here to makeme any trouble." Bitterness throbbed in Sercomb's voice. "That fellowhas been a drawback to me ever since we were kids, and now he's got tostep in and try to knock me out of Uncle Jack's money!"
"You wasn't a favorite of your Uncle Jack, eh?" queried Balt Finn.
"No, blast the old codger! He never seemed to like me, and I was alwaysaround him. Dick, who never came near, was the one he had always inmind."
"Well, has the old fluke cashed in?" asked Packard. "That's the point."
"Of course he has! He was always a high liver, and it's a wonderapoplexy didn't take him long ago. Feeling that he was about to die, hemade his will, put it in his pocket, and tucked himself away somewhere,just to see whether Dick or I would be first to locate him. Preciouslittle I care about the old juniper, if I could lay hands on the will."
"The one you've made out, Ralph," said Packard, "is pretty well gottenup. You've imitated your uncle's signature in great shape."
"The deuce of it is," returned Sercomb, "I don't know just whatproperty he's got, so I can schedule it. If I could find the originalwill, I could copy that part of it."
"Maybe," suggested Finn, "this is only a tempest in a teapot, and thatthe old man left you all his property, after all."
"I don't know, of course, but I'm afraid he's given Dick too much. Idon't want him to have a cent."
"Well," growled Mings, "I'm hoping you'll make good your claim to theestate, Ralph. You've promised to remember us all around, you know."
"That promise goes!" averred Sercomb. "Once I get my hooks on UncleJack's money, you can bet I'll do the handsome thing by you fellows.Just now, though, what we've got to think about is this: Dick wasstarted toward the cliffs in that car of King's, and King showedup in that confounded white runabout and chased after Dick and thetouring-car. What I'd like to know, did King save Dick? Everythinghangs on that. If Dick got smashed against the cliffs, he can't tellabout that Lamy business, nor about Mings and Packard tying him in thecar. You fellows," and here Sercomb turned to Mings and Packard, "oughtto have hung around to see how it came out."
"Oh, yes," returned Mings sarcastically, "we ought to have hung aroundand given them a chance to nab us. I guess not! We got back here asquick as we could. But you take it from me--King never saved Ferral."
"You fellows went too far," continued Sercomb. "I told you to smash thecar, but I didn't tell you to smash Ferral along with it."
"That's what you meant, Sercomb, whether you said it or not," spokeup Packard. "You wanted him taken away last night and dropped in thequicksands----"
"I wanted him put out of the car close to the quicksands," qualifiedSercomb, "so that he'd have got into them himself."
"It's all the same thing," said Balt Finn. "Call a spade a spade anddon't dodge."
"Who was that fellow with the queer head-gear we saw in the car?" askedPackard.
A look of dismay crossed Sercomb's face.
"If that was Tippoo----" he began, but got no farther.
Just then there were steps in the hall, and Ferral entered the room,followed by Matt and Carl. Sercomb and his guilty associates jumped totheir feet.
"Why--why, Dick!" exclaimed Sercomb, staring.
"Yes, you cannibal!" shouted Ferral; "it's Dick, but no thanks to youand your gang of pirates that I'm here, alive and kicking. Now, Mings,confound you, you and Packard have got a chance to tell me whether mydear cousin put you up to that job over toward the cliffs."
"We've got a chance to run you off the place, that's what we've got,"answered Mings.
"Heave ahead!" cried Ferral, squaring himself. "I'd like a chance atyou, just one."
Mings glared at him, but remained sullenly silent. Ferral turned toSercomb.
"I'm here to sink a lead to the bottom of this, my gay buck," said he,"and before I turn my back on La Vita Place I'll know the truth. Whathave you done with Uncle Jack? A scoundrel who'd treat me as you havewouldn't hesitate to deal foully with----"
"There, there, Dick," interrupted Sercomb, fluttering his hand, "thatwill do you. You're judging me by yourself."
"I'm judging you by your actions," stormed Ferral. "It's beentack-and-tack with you ever since I knew you, and you never yet shiftedyour helm without having something to gain for Sercomb. You cozzenedaround Uncle Jack, toadying to him for his money; when he disappears,you bear away for here, rip things fore and aft looking for a will,and, when you fail to find one, fix a document up to suit yourself.You're as crooked as a physte's hind leg, and you couldn't sail astraight course to save your immortal soul. Now, here's where I stand,Ralph Sercomb: Either you'll tell me the whole of it about Uncle Jack,or I go to Lamy and come back here with an officer. If I do that, I'llround-up every man Jack of you, and give you the hottest time you everhad in your lives; but tell me the truth about Uncle Jack, and I'llleave here and stay away."
"Uncle Jack is dead," declared Sercomb. "How many times do you want meto tell you that?"
"That's still your play, is it?" scoffed Ferral. "Then, between you andme and the capstan, my buck, you lie by the watch!"
A hoarse cry escaped Sercomb. His hand swept under his coat, and whenit appeared a bit of steel glimmered in his fist.
"Put up your gun," ordered Ferral. "You took one shot at me with itlast night, and if you try it again I'll turn a trick you'll remember."
"Get out of here!" ordered Sercomb. "You can't come into my place andtalk to me like that."
He lifted the weapon, the muzzle full upon Ferral. Matt and Carlstepped up shoulder to shoulder with Ferral, and Mings, Packard, andFinn drew nearer to Sercomb.
A tense moment intervened, followed by a quick, pattering footfall.Tippoo glided in and placed himself resolutely between Ferral and theleveled weapon.
"Tippoo!" gasped Sercomb, stepping back and letting the revolver dropat his side.
"_Jee!_" answered the Hindu.
His eyes were not fixed on Sercomb, nor on any one else in the room,but on the dingy saint in the frame over the mantel. He waved his armssternly, separated Sercomb and his friends, and passed through theirgaping ranks toward the fireplace.
The he salaamed, calling loudly: "Naboob sahib! Is de time
not come?_Dekke!_"
Thereupon a most astounding thing happened. While those in the roomstared like persons entranced, the great frame that enclosed thepictured saint quivered against the wall. Slowly it moved outward atthe top, dropped lower and lower, until it had passed the mantel andits upper edge was resting on the floor. The inner side of the picture,now disclosed, was arranged in a series of steps, so that a stairwaywas formed from the mantel downward. At the top of the short flight,gaping blackly over the fireplace, a square recess was disclosed in theangle formed by the two walls of the room.
For an instant the blank gloom was undisturbed; then, slowly, a tall,gray-haired form showed itself. The form was erect and soldierly, cladin black; the face was fine, the forehead high, and the eyes quick andkeen.
For a space this figure stood in the opening, the eyes sweeping theroom and finally resting on Ferral. While still gazing at Ferral, thefigure stepped over the mantel with military decision and descendedstep by step until it reached the floor.
The stairway lifted itself, when relieved of the weight, swung upward,and closed the opening. Once more the pictured saint was in theaccustomed place.
"Dick!" called a voice.
The figure in black stepped forward with outstretched hand.
"Uncle Jack!" exclaimed Ferral, starting forward.