CHAPTER VI.
THE RICH MAN'S SON.
"Blubbering!" muttered McGlory, with a look of profound disgust. "Imight overlook his attempt to shake a cartridge into himself, but thisbaby act is too much for me."
George Lorry was a puzzle to Motor Matt. And all Matt had overheardbetween McGlory and Lorry had only made the puzzle more perplexing.
"Don't be too hard on him, Joe," said Matt. "There must be somethingpretty serious at the bottom of this or Lorry wouldn't have tried toshoot himself."
"_Did_ he try," asked McGlory darkly, "or was it only a bluff?"
"According to his story, he jumped off the ferryboat to get away fromyou. That alone proves he was desperate."
"Maybe he was talking with two tongues when he said that."
Matt stepped over to the side of the room.
"Why did he leave Madison, Joe?" he asked in a low voice, as soon asMcGlory had joined him.
"He got to be more than Uncle Dan could handle. You see, pard, UncleDan's money runs up into seven figures, and George corralled the notionthat whenever he wanted anything all he had to do was to order it sentup to the house. He joined a yacht club, and wanted to put a motorboat in a race, so what does he do but order a five-thousand-dollarracer, and drew on dad. Dad lands on the proposition with both feet,and little George over there is so mad he sulks in his room for aweek, then he chases himself out of the house, and trots a heat witha swift bunch of thoroughbreds, who spend their time gamblin' anddrinkin'. George does that, you know, just to show how mad he is; butdad's dander is up good and plenty, and he vows he'll send George toa military academy, where they'll straighten the kinks out of him orelse break him in two. George was more worked up over the militaryschool than he was over the racing boat, so he opens dad's safe onenight, takes out ten thousand in cold cash, and slips away from Madisonbetween two days.
"Uncle Dan is a pretty good sort of fellow, although he never didanything for the McGlorys--not so you could notice it. He writes me allthis that I've been tellin' you, Matt, and says that, if I see anythingof George, will I please rope down, and tie him, and wire. The dayafter I get the letter, along comes a telegram saying George went toChicago and bought a ticket for 'Frisco, and asking me to hit only thehigh places between Tucson and the Golden Gate. I went, and I've beenhere a week, walkin' my boot soles off, and askin' questions till I wasblue in the face--but nothing doing. I got the notion that George hadused his ten thousand for a trip to furrin parts, and so I was justbeginning to cut loose on my own account and enjoy the boats when youand I came together, and this business of the _Sprite_ was pushed intothe grooves. If it hadn't been for you and the _Sprite_, pard, I'dnever have found George. Now that I have found him, what am I going todo with him? Speak to me about that. I'd like to unload a little of theresponsibility onto you."
"He's spoiled," observed Matt, after a little reflection; "and that's acinch."
"Oh, no, he ain't spoiled!" scoffed McGlory. "He's just mildewed withconceit and cobwebbed with ideas of his own importance. Back of allthat, he's got about as much s-a-n-d as a gopher. He's over there nowleaking great big briny tears like a Piute squaw who's been caughtstealin' a string of glass beads. Wonder if he thinks he can melt _me_?"
McGlory's black eyes glittered as they wandered to the heaving form onthe bed.
"You'd think he was seven instead of seventeen," he grunted.
"There may be something in him, Joe," suggested Matt, "for all that."
"There ain't anything in him worth while--you couldn't find it with amikerscope."
"Let's give him a chance, anyhow."
"Chance? I'm willing. But what's the number? And how you going to playit?"
"Your first move is to get hold of that ten thousand. He doesn't seemto have it with him, and it may be that he's feeling cut up becausehe gambled with the money, and lost it. If you can't get the money,then find out where it is. Don't go at him hammer and tongs, but use alittle tact."
McGlory grinned.
"Smooth him down with a piece of velvet, eh?" he queried. "Dust him offwith a few sweet words, and gently lift him back on the pedestal wherehe's already stood for more years than have been good for him. Not me,pard. Anyhow, I'm short on tact. You do it."
Matt laughed a little as he looked at the cowboy and listened to him.It was plain that Matt's sympathy for George wasn't appreciated, andthat if any diplomacy was used it was Matt who would have to use it.
Without further words Matt walked over to the bed and pulled up a chair.
"George," said he, "we're friends of yours, and we want to help you.Everybody makes a mistake now and then, and you've made a big one, butthere's no use fretting about it. That ten thousand is the principalthing. If we can get hold of that, you'll be able to work out of thisthing in good shape, and perhaps we can fix it so you can return toMadison and cut a better figure there than when you left the town."
"I don't want to go back to Madison," came the muffled reply from thepillow. "The governor has treated me like a dog, and I've washed myhands of him."
"Suppose we could arrange matters so the governor would treat youbetter?"
"You can't," snuffled George; "nobody can. The governor's a brute."
"I think we can make your father see things in a different light," wenton Matt; "but the first thing to do is to send back that money."
George jammed his head deeper into the pillow.
"I haven't got it," he whispered.
"You must have done a lot of gambling to----"
"No, I didn't. It was stolen from me. The red-whiskered man with a moleon his face took it."
"How was that? Turn over here, George, so we can hear you."
"That's all there is to it," declared George, lifting his face a littleso his words were more distinct. "I met him, and Kinky, and Ross on thetrain. I thought they were nice, sociable fellows; but that's where Imade a mistake. They got on the train at Salt Lake City, and when wereached 'Frisco they got me to come to this hotel. The red-whiskeredman had business over in Tiburon--I don't know what it was--and he wentover there the next day after we reached 'Frisco, and lost his trunkcheck. They wouldn't let him have the trunk without the check, and hewas awfully worked up. Kinky told Red-whiskers that maybe I had swipedthe check, and they all seemed to believe it. Anyhow, Red-whiskers saidthe trunk was worth more'n ten thousand and they made me turn over thatmoney I'd brought from home. Red-whiskers said that when I found thecheck, or when he proved his property and made the railroad companygive up his trunk, he'd give me back the money. I went over to Tiburon,the next day, myself, and when I got back here, Kinky, Ross, and theother fellow had left. I've been going over to Tiburon every daysince, but I couldn't find the check or hear anything about it. And Ihaven't heard anything about Red-whiskers, either. He and his two palshave stolen the money, that's what they've done. I was an easy mark,and--and--what's the good of living, anyhow?"
George jammed his head down into the pillow again.
This strange recital left Matt and McGlory gasping. It was clear thatGeorge had fallen into the hands of sharpers, and had been robbed, butthere was that baggage check Matt had picked up near the little Tiburonwharf. That looked as though there might be something in the yarnRed-whiskers had told about losing the check.
"Well, speak to me about this!" breathed McGlory. "That check youfound, pard, may be the very one this chap with the auburn wind teaserslost! Wouldn't that knock you slabsided? Sufferin' jew's-harps! Why, Inever heard anythin' to match it. Fate is workin' you into this gamefor fair."
Lorry hoisted himself up suddenly on the bed.
"Did you find a trunk check over in Tiburon?" he demanded.
"Yes," replied Matt, and took the flat piece of brass from his pocket.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Lorry. "It would be a big load off my mind if thatcheck could be used for getting back the money. Light the gas, McGlory."
It was falling dark outside, and the cowboy scratched a match andtouched the flame to a jet. As
soon as the light was going, Lorrytook the check in his own hands and looked it over exultantly. Then,abruptly, he jumped for the bed and rushed toward a suit case that layon a chair.
"What are you going to do, George?" inquired McGlory.
"Get into some dry clothes and then hunt for Red-whiskers. This means awhole lot to me. I'm going to Honolulu, and I need that ten thousand."
"Don't be in a rush, Lorry," said Matt. "Was there just ten thousand inthe roll? Didn't you use any of it?"
"Not a cent! I had enough to get me to 'Frisco, and pay a few otherexpenses, aside from that. And it wasn't a roll; it was a packet witha band around the middle stamped with the name of the Merchants' andTraders' Bank, of Madison. Jupiter, but this is a good clue, and----"
Some one rapped on the door. McGlory answered the summons and found thefrowsy-looking clerk and a boy of about nine in the hall. The clerkpushed the boy forward and pointed to Motor Matt.
"That's him," said the clerk, "an' I'll bet money."
"You Motor Matt?" queried the boy, rushing into the room.
"Yes," answered Matt.
"Den dis here's fer you. Dere's an answer, an' I'll wait fer it."
The boy handed over an envelope. Matt opened the envelope and read theinclosure. A strange light leaped into his gray eyes.
"Who gave you this, my lad?" he asked of the boy.
"Dunno de cove, but he had red lilocks an' a face like er ape."
"Well, I'm not giving him anything till he proves his property,see? You tell him that. Also tell him that I won't meet him in TurkBremer's Place, but will be at the foot of Clay Street in half an hour.Understand?"
"Sure thing," grinned the boy.
Matt snapped a quarter into the air and the boy grabbed it and made off.
"What's it all about, pard?" asked McGlory.
"Did you tell anybody in Tiburon about my finding that trunk check,Joe?" asked Matt.
"I told the galoot that bossed the raffle."
"Then that explains it," muttered Matt. "Listen."
Thereupon he read the note aloud.
"'MOTOR MATT: Several days ago I lost a baggage check somewhere in Tiburon, and a couple of hours ago I was told that you had found one there. It's a cinch it's mine. Give it to the boy; or, if my bare word that it belongs to me isn't enough, then come to Turk Bremer's Place on the "Front" in half an hour and I'll prove property.
JOHN SMITH.'"
McGlory fell back in his chair. Lorry, with a startled exclamation,grabbed the note out of Matt's hand to look at it for himself.