Chapter XVI: The Mandarin Wins

"Listen, honorable friends," said Tsan Ti, "while I talk to you instructively. In the words of the great Confucius, 'the cautious man seldom errs.' When I departed from you, amiable ones, on recovering the Eye of Buddha, I said that I was returning to my country by way of San Francisco. Such was my intention, of the moment, but further reflection dissuaded me. I decided to go to New York and proceed to China by the longer, but perhaps the safer, way.

"In the great city I discovered that I was being pursued and spied upon, and a great fear overcame me. Immediately I thought of Motor Matt. Should I visit him with possible dangers, I besought of myself, in order that I might preserve the precious relic from the temple at Honam? I thought of your bravery, never sufficiently to be praised, and I decided to make the risk. The cutter of precious stones was sent for, and I showed my ruby and asked that he make a counterfeit of it that would deceive any but a dealer in jewels. This was done, and quickly. I sent this comparatively valueless replica to you, Motor Matt, and told Charley Foo to let Grattan's man know what I had done. Also, the man was to be informed of my desire that Motor Matt should carry the stone about with him continually.

"What would happen? I inquired of myself. Most certainly, reflection made answer. Grattan will be upon the brave youth's track, and he will never rest until he secures the gem. This is as I desired, although I dared not so express myself in my letter which accompanied the false gem.

"After the package had left me, my heart failed. I feared I had exposed you to dangers which might cause your undoing. Hence, without lingering further, Sam Wing and I took this train for Catskill, I being of the intention to tell you what I had planned, and to let it be known, through Charley Foo, that the real gem was in my hands and not yours.

"And see, I have come too late. Grattan, the wise and unscrupulous, has taken the counterfeit ruby and is pleased to think he has cheated me, and that I shall pass by means of the yellow cord. All is well, and my plans are maturing most successfully. The five hundred gods of good fortune are smiling upon me. While Grattan goes his course, firmly believing he has the Eye of Buddha, I travel mine, knowing he has been justly deceived."

There was a little resentment in Matt's heart as he listened to the mandarin's explanation of his crafty ways and means for circumventing Grattan. Tsan Ti had thrown upon Matt the weight of the whole proceeding, and had not taken means to inform him of the true state of affairs. The king of the motor boys, had he understood the nature of the mandarin's scheme, could have worked out his part of it even more successfully than he had done while being kept in ignorance.

"You're a keen one, Tsan," grunted McGlory, "but I'm a Piute if I admire the free-and-easy fashion you have of making dupes of your friends."

"It is that which has pained me," admitted the mandarin, "and it is my regret which was carrying me speedily to Catskill to tell my widely known friend the exact truth. Fate was quicker in the race than I. Events have come swiftly to pass, and out of them rises Grattan with the false ruby. I have been fortunate, and while he goes to parts unknown, I shall hope to reach China before he discovers his error."

"Queer that Grattan, who knows the great ruby so well," said Matt, "could be fooled with a piece of glass of the same shape and size."

"And likewise of the exact color," returned Tsan Ti. "The color was most important of all. That Grattan was fooled shows how admirably the cutter of precious stones has done his work."

"You're really going to China this time, are you, Tsan Ti?"

"Of a certainty," declared the mandarin. "Now that you have been met most wonderfully on this train, I shall not get off at Catskill, but will accompany the cars to Buffalo. From there, without delay, I shall go on to Chicago, from there to Denver, and so to San Francisco, where I will embark on the first ship that will carry me across the Pacific."

Tsan Ti leaned over in front of Matt and called out something in Chinese to Sam Wing. Sam Wing lifted his nodding head with a start, and from his blouse produced a small sack of alligator skin, which he handed to his master.

The sack was stuffed with banknotes, and from the lot the mandarin extracted three five-hundred-dollar bills.

"Will you consider it of an insulting nature if I offer you these?" inquired the mandarin of Matt.

"I won't, if he does," chimed in McGlory.

"I think I'm entitled to the money, Tsan Ti," said Matt. "The way you Chinamen do business doesn't make much of a hit with me. Your little plot wouldn't have been hurt in the least if you had just mentioned in the letter you sent with that supposed ruby that the gem was false, and that you sent it to me hoping Grattan would get it and keep off your trail. I could have helped you even more in achieving your purpose."

"It is to be regretted deeply that I did not," answered the mandarin humbly. "In my own country I would not have given two thoughts to the troubles I caused another, so long as my aim was just and wise; but here, in America, different standards rule, and that I brought dangers upon your head I shall never forget."

The door of the coach opened and a brakeman thrust in his head to call out the station of Catskill.

"That means us, pard," said McGlory. "Grab your money and let's hike."

Matt took the money and slowly placed it in his pocket.

"You bear no ill will, worthy one, and friend whose memory will always blossom in the gardens of my recollections?" asked Tsan Ti.

"It's all right, Tsan Ti," returned Matt, getting up. "You win, and are off for the Flowery Kingdom with the Eye of Buddha. Grattan loses, and he'll find it out sooner or later. As for Joe and me, we'll call accounts square. Good-by, and good luck to you." He took the mandarin's hand cordially.

"May the five hundred gods of good luck smile continually upon you," said Tsan Ti.

With that, Motor Matt and McGlory left the coach and dropped off the train.

"Back in Catskill!" said the cowboy, "and after being fooled by Bunce, and Grattan, and Tsan Ti!"

"We've fooled Grattan twice where he has fooled us once, Joe," returned Matt.

"Right you are, pard; and there's plenty of chance for Tsan Ti to run into a snag between here and China."

"I'm hoping he makes the trip without any trouble."

"I don't know but I hope the same thing, although I get a trifle hot under the collar every time I think of the way we fretted over a piece of colored glass."

They stood on the platform until the tail lights of the train had vanished from sight up the track.

"The mandarin is getting a good start on the home trail, anyhow," remarked McGlory, as he and Matt turned away to climb the slope that led to their hotel. "He's bound west by train, while Grattan is fooling around, somewhere on the Hudson, with the _Iris_. I wouldn't turn over my hand, after what Tsan Ti told us, to put the kibosh on Grattan, or even Bunce."

"Grattan and Bunce have got their deserts," asserted Matt. "They'll be punished enough when they discover that they've had all their trouble and taken so many chances for nothing more than a bogus ruby."

"Fine business," chuckled McGlory; "and yet," he added, with a perceptible change in his voice, "there's something about that Philo Grattan that makes a hit with me. Maybe I've got a yellow streak in my make-up, somewhere, and that it's wrong for me to own up to such a notion, but it's the truth."

"If Grattan was honest," said Matt, "he'd be a fellow any one could like. But his ideas are all wrong. He can't see where the harm comes in removing a valuable ruby from an idol in a heathen temple, but if he'd step into Tiffany's, in New York, and extract a gem like that from the show case and make off with it, his crime wouldn't be any the less."

"A heathen has got property rights," agreed the cowboy, "just the same as you or me--or Grattan, himself. Where do you suppose Grattan, and that choice assortment of tinhorns he has with him on the _Iris_, are going?"

"I don't know, pard, and what happens to them now doesn't bother me much. We're rid of them all, and I'm thankful for it. We've had too much of Tsan Ti, as well as of Grattan and Bunce."

"That's what you say now, but just let the mandarin write you one of those embroidered letters of his, asking for help, and you'll head in his direction just a-smoking."

"Not again, Joe. I know what the Yellow Peril is, now, and I'm going to fight shy of it."

"Amen to that, pard, and I hope you stick to it."

"I will."

"And there's nothing more between us and a high old time in Manhattan?"

"Nothing but a stretch of river--or of railroad track, Joe, if you'd rather go by train."

"Hooray!" jubilated McGlory.

THE END.

THE NEXT NUMBER (32) WILL CONTAIN

Motor Matt's Double-trouble;

OR,

THE LAST OF THE HOODOO.

The Red Jewel--Another End of the Yarn--Shock Number
One--Shocks Two and Three--A Hot Starter--McGlory is Lost, and
Found--"Pocketed"--Springing a Coup--Motor Matt's Chase--The Chase
Concluded--A Double Capture--Another Surprise--Baiting a Trap--How
the Trap was Sprung--Back to the Farm--Conclusion.

MOTOR STORIES

THRILLING ADVENTURE MOTOR FICTION

NEW YORK, September 25, 1909.

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JERRY STEBBINS' HOSS TRADE.

At a recent interview with one Jeremiah Stebbins, he freed his mind in the following choice language:

"Everybody I've saw lately has ben a-winking and a-smirking, and a-laughing, and a-saying, 'How de dew, Jerry? how's the hoss trade?' and sich like, and I've got tired on't; and I'm a going to tell the hull story to you newspaper fellers, and let you print it and done with it.

"You see, the way on't was this. I live up in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, and once in a while I takes a trip down to Philadelphia to see the sights, do some dickering, buy some store things, and so on.

"I've al'ays considered myself pooty cute, and have gi'n lots o' advice to them that's around me, telling 'em about the city, and its big shows, and its cheating scamps, and what to do when they goes there, and how not to get took in, and all sich; and I 'spect it's jest because I've done all this ere that the laugh comes in agin me pooty rough-like.

"You see there's a feller living right nigh me, named Jim Smithers, who's been down to Philadelphia four times, and every time so'thing's happened to him in the way o' getting fooled by some o' them confounded scamps what don't 'pear to do nothing for a living but lay around, like nasty spiders, watching for flies, to ketch some o' us country chaps by some dirty trick or other, and git hold o' some o' our hard-earned dollars to loaf around on. I ain't afeared to speak my mind about 'em, and I don't keer a goll darn if you print it, nuther, and let 'em know that I think they're just about as mean as mean kin be.

"Waal, about Jim Smithers. He's pooty green yit; but the first time he went down to the big city he was as raw as a new cabbage, and he got took in fifteen dollars' worth on what you newspaper fellers calls the drap game.

"In course you know all about that ere. A feller comes up behind the country chap, and, all unbeknown to him, drops a pocketbook, picks it up, and tells him it's hisn. But it ain't, you know, and the country feller says so. Then the city scamp opens it a lettle, and it 'pears to be stuffed full o' bank bills; and he says it's a pity that some honest man has got to lose it, 'cause he hisself's a stranger in town, and is jest a-going out ag'in, and he can't stop to advertise it, and git the big reward that's sartin to be offered for it; but if the country feller's a mind to take it, give him fifteen or twenty dollars or so, he'll let him have his chance, and so on.

"Waal, Jim Smithers was ketched in this way, and he gin the other feller fifteen dollars--nigh all the money he had--and when he went to put so'thing into the _Public Ledger_ about it, and handed over one o' the bills to pay for 't, the grinning clerk told him as how he'd ben 'sold,' and the money wa'n't wo'th as much as white paper. Wa'n't Jim mad, then? and didn't us fellers plague him peskily about it arter he got home?

"Waal, the next time Jim went to the city he got ketched in some keerd trick, and lost a twenty-dollar bill afore he knowed it. The third time he spent five dollars, a-buying prize packages that didn't have no prizes in 'em 'cept brass rings; and the last time some scamp ketched him ag'in on a hoss affair.

"'Jim Smithers,' says I, arter he'd told me all about it, 'if I's you I wouldn't go down to Philadelphia ag'in alone--I swon I wouldn't. Jest as like as not some critter, a-running loose in the streets, will take you fer a green pumpkin, and eat you all right up, so's you won't never git back to your mar any more,' says I.

"'Oh, you think your darn smart, Jerry Stebbins, don't ye?' says Jim back ag'in. 'Jest you look out that you don't git ketched some day your own self.'

"'They've all tried me, and found me too smart for 'em,' says I.

"'We'll see in the end,' says Jim.

"'Bout a week or so arter that, I went down ag'in to Philadelphia. I had some arrants to do for some o' my neighbors; and I'd a notion to tend a auction sale of hosses, and if I could see any going right cheap, I thought mebbe I might buy one on a spec--for, though I says it myself, I'm pooty cute in a hoss trade, and have made a good many dollars afore now in fatting up some old critter and then swapping him off and gitting boot.

"Waal, I went to town, and, arter gitting through with my other business, I started right over to the bazaar, where they sells hosses--for I'd been there afore and knowed exactly where it was.

"Jest as I was a-going in, I met a dressy-looking chap a-coming out; and he says to me, says he:

"'Mister, kin you tell me where I kin buy a right good hoss pooty cheap?'

"'I couldn't, less it's in here,' says I 'for that's jest what I wants to do myself.'

"'Waal, I shan't buy in this here cheating place,' says he, 'for I done that once afore, and paid a hundred dollars for a critter that I arterward had to sell for thirty-five; and right glad I was to git that much, and only lose sixty-five on the trade. If I's you I wouldn't risk no money in here.'

"'I knows a hoss when I sees him,' says I, pooty proud, feeling my oats, 'and if anybody makes anything off o' Jerry Stebbins in a hoss trade, I hope they'll let me know.'

"'S'pose you could pick out a good nice critter for me, Mr. Stebbins, and not get cheated in the price?' says he.

"'I s'pose I could if I'd try,' says I.

"'And would five dollars make you try?' says he.

"'I guess it would,' says I.

"'Wal, then,' says he, 'I'll give you a five-dollar bill to do it,' says he.

"He rammed his hand into his pocket to git the money; but afore he'd drawed it out, a slick-looking feller comes riding up on hossback, and says to my chap, says he:

"'Do you know anybody what wants to buy a right good hoss dirt cheap?'

"'I dew,' says my man.

"'How high be you willing to go?' says the hossback chap.

"'I don't keer a darn, so's the critter's wo'th the money,' says t'other, and he gin me a sly wink.

"'Then I'll take you to a place where I know you'll be suited,' says the hossback chap.

"'Fur from here?' axes t'other.

"'Not more'n a mile at the outside,' says him on the hoss.

"'Will you jest go along, 'arn the five, and see that I ain't cheated?' says the foot feller to me, in a tone so low that t'other couldn't hear.

"I said I would; and then my man axed the man on the hoss for his keerd, which he gin him and rid away.

"While we was a-going to the place, my feller told me that his name was John Jenkins; that he'd got as much money as he keerd about having, and if he could only git a hoss to suit him, and not pay more for't than 'twas wo'th, he'd be mighty pleased.

"''Tain't 'cause I ker a darn for the money, Mr. Stebbins,' says he to me, confiding-like; 'but it's 'cause I knows as how all these racehoss-jockey fellers takes a pride in gitting the best of everybody they deals with, and I hates to be beat in that are way. Now I sees by your eyes, Mr. Stebbins, that you ain't a chap to be took in in a hoss trade, and I wants you to use 'em for me; and if things comes out all right, I won't stop to put another ten or twenty a-top of the five, you know.'

"'I'll do my best, Mr. Jenkins,' says I; 'and I guess you'll find my best right up to the handle.'

"When we got to the place we seen a stable, in a little, back, dirty street, and in it was two men and three hosses.

"Two of these 'ere hosses wan't o' no great account, but t'other one was a pooty slick smart-looking critter.

"'How much for this 'ere one?' says Mr. Jenkins, putting his hand onto the beast.

"Waal, really,' says the dealer, 'we don't keer about selling that are critter.'

"'I was recommended to come here for a place where I could buy a good hoss cheap,' says Mr. Jenkins.

"'We really hain't got nothing to sell 'cept the other two critters,' says the jockey. 'We'll sell you them cheap.'

"'I don't want 'em,' says Jenkins, 'but only this 'ere one. Hey, Stebbins! what d'you say?' he says, speaking to me.

"'Waal, the critter you've picked out is pooty likely,' says I, 'but I don't think much of t'others.'

"He called me out one side, and axed me what the best hoss was really wo'th.

"'A good hundred and twenty-five,' says I.

"'How about a hundred and fifty?' says he.

"'I wouldn't go a mite over a hundred and forty,' says I.

"'I'll have him, though, at some price, for I've sot my mind on't,' says he, in a determined way.

"Then he went back to the jockey, and offered him a hundred dollars for that critter.

"The jockey chap laughed right in his face at fust, and then he 'peared to get mad, and said, says he:

"'You're either a dealer yourself, or else you wants to insult me; and no matter which it are, I ain't a-going to trade with you at no price.'

"'I'll give you a hundred and twenty-five,' says Jenkins.

"'Pshaw!' says jockey.

"'A hundred and fifty,' says Jenkins.

"'No,' says t'other.

"'A hundred and seventy-five, then.'

"'No.'

"'I'll give you two hundred.'

"'You can't buy him at no price,' says the hoss dealer, looking awful mad.

"'Then let us go to a more decenter place, Mr. Stebbins,' says Jenkins to me.

"We started off together, and as soon as we'd got out of sight of the stable, Jenkins says to me, says he:

"'Friend Stebbins, I wants that are hoss right bad, 'cause he's jest the critter to suit me. I wonder if you couldn't buy him for me?'

"'I don't 'spect I could,' says I, 'for the feller that owns him has got his Dutch up, and won't sell him to neither of us.'

"'Would you mind going back by yourself and trying?' says he.

"'To obleege you I'll dew it,' says I. 'But the hoss ain't wo'th what you offered, and nothink like it.'

"'I don't keer for that, Mr. Stebbins,' says he; 'it a'nt making a spec' I'm arter; I wants the hoss for hisself, 'cause I've sot my mind on't, and money ain't no object with me. I'll tell ye what I'll dew. If you'll buy that are hoss and fetch him round to my stable, I'll jest plank down two hundred and fifty dollars cash for him, and you may make what profit you kin. I don't keer what you give for him, but I'll give you two hundred and fifty dollars jest the minute he reaches my stable, and I'll go right down there now and wait for you.'

"I told him I'd try my luck, and he writ down the direction for me to come to.

"Waal, I went back and found the two hoss fellers talking with the chap that had fust told us about the place.

"The minute this chap seen me, he come for'ard and said he was right down sorry that his pardners had got mad at my friend--and if he'd been there it wouldn't have turned out so--though it was a insult for him to offer only a hundred dollars for a hoss like that are, which nobody could find his match nowhere for a cent less than three hundred dollars in gold.

"'Tell you what 'tis, mister,' he says, 'I know your friend, John Jenkins--though he don't recollect me--and I know he's mighty rich, and a right down good customer where he likes to deal, and I hate like fury that he went away disapp'inted. Now if you'll find him, and fetch him back, and git him to trade with us, I'll give you a five-dollar bill.'

"I thought I'd got a good chance for a spec, so I says, says I:

"'I don't think I could git him back; but if you folks here wants to sell that are hoss, and will take what he's wo'th, I don't mind buying him for my own self.'

"'You kin have him for two hundred and twenty-five dollars, and not a cent short,' says he.

"'That's more'n I'd give my old daddy for him,' says I.

"Then we began to talk, and palaver, and hile, and at last I got him down to two hundred and ten, and him to give in a old saddle and bridle, so's I could ride him off.

"Waal, I paid down the money, and then rode off for Jenkins' stable feeling pooty proud and happy that I'd made a clean forty dollars by my barg'in.

"But, somehow or other, I couldn't find Jenkins' stable, nor Jenkins nuther, and I hain't found 'em since.

"To git right down to the gist on't, I'd been awfully fooled, and tricked into paying two hundred and ten dollars for a hoss that I didn't want myself, and that I's glad to git rid on, arterwards for one hundred and five, jest one-half the critter cost me.

"Waal, mister, that's the story that all the folks round my way is a-grinning and a-snickering over, and I s'pose I've got to grin and bear it till the hull darned thing dies out and be darned to it.

"It's l'arned me for one thing, that them slick-looking, slick-talking city fellers kin lie and cheat like thunder; and for another thing, that it don't dew for a country chap to butt his brains ag'in them city scamps and al'ays 'spect to git the best on't."

THE PHANTOM ENGINEER.

"Whenever I tell the story," said Alf Whitney, throwing away his half-smoked cigar, and putting his long legs on the top of the table, in a way some men have when a story is to be forthcoming, "everybody winks at everybody else, as much as to say, 'Alf had taken too much whisky that time,' or 'Alf was asleep and dreamed the whole thing.' But I tell you, comrades, though you are at liberty to disbelieve what I tell you, it is true; and that's all I know about it. I'm no long-headed metaphysician to reason it all out--I only know what happened, and it's that I'm going to tell."

We gathered closer around the red-hot stove in the bar-room of the Anderson House, for it was a biting cold night, and the snow was too much for our train, destitute as we were of a snowplow, and we had given up the attempt to push through to C---- that night, and retaken ourselves to the hospitalities of the Arlington.

It had often been whispered among the railway employees that Alf Whitney had once had something strange happen to him. He was a young man yet, though the oldest and most skillful engineer on the road--noted for his skill and judgment, no less than for his sturdy endurance and his bravery, which nothing ever overcame.

I suppose you people who ride in Pullman cars, rocked in velvet cushions, and look at the scenery rushing past, through plate glass windows, heavy with gilt and rosewood mouldings, never think much of the man upon whom your safety depends--the man who, with his hand upon the lever which controls the monster that is bearing you along, stands tireless at his post, through cold and heat, through storm and sunshine, smutty, grimy with smoke, greasy and weather-hardened, but oftentimes the bravest and noblest man among you all. But this is a digression.

We all hastened to assure Alf that we were ready to believe whatever he might say; and he, smiling a little, as if he doubted the sincerity of our assurances, began his story. I give it in his own words, which are much better than mine would be.

"Six years ago, one dark stormy night, Jack Horton lost his life in a smash-up at Rowley's Bend. Jack was an engineer, and as fine a fellow as ever trod the ground. He was handsome, too, and notwithstanding his dirty occupation, a great favorite with the ladies; for when he was off the machine long enough to get the oil and cinders washed off, and his other clothes on, he was the best-looking, as well as the best-mannered, young man anywhere in this vicinity.

"He was engaged to marry Esther Clay; and Esther was a beauty without anything by way of art to help her--a sound-looking, wholesome, healthy young girl--none of your die-away kind, fainting at the sight of a spider, and going into tantrums over a cow a mile off. She was just the kind of woman I could worship, and not put myself out any to do it, either!"

"Why didn't you go for her after Jack was dead?" asked Tom Barnard carelessly.

"Hush! she is dead!" said Alf, in a subdued voice; and the unwonted pallor that settled round his mouth gave me a slight clue to the reason he had never married. And afterward I knew that Esther Clay, dead, and pledged through all eternity to another, was more to him than any living woman!

After a little he went on.

"When Jack was killed, it was the breaking of an axle that caused the mischief; and, of course, this axle broke on just the worst part of the road. They always do. You all know Rowley's Bend? You all know just how high the grade is there, and just how rough and jagged the rocks lie all along the embankment, clear down to the river. No need to dwell on this. The train pitched down into the dark, head first, and Jack, true to his duty, never stirred from his post. It was a good while before we could get to him, the broken timbers of the piled-up cars so completely caged him in. She came there before we had taken his body out, and I shall never forget how she went down into the ruins where even the bravest of us hardly dared to venture, so insecure was the footing, and worked with her white, slender hands, until the blood ran from their wounds. She never minded it a particle, but worked on, with a face as pale and rigid as marble. But I am making a long story, and dwelling too much on details. Jack was dead when they found him, and she lived just a month afterward. And, though everybody lamented at her funeral, and said it was 'so sad,' I do not think it was sad, for when two people love each other, truly and loyally, and one of them dies, it seems to me Heaven's special mercy if the other is suffered to go along.

"Jack and I had always been great friends; and once when we were talking about the supernatural nonsense that so many believe in, Jack said to me laughingly:

"'If I die first, I'll keep a watch over you, old fellow; and when I see you running into danger, I'll whistle the brakes down. Now remember!' After he died these careless words of his kept coming back to me, and try as I would not to remember them, the more they were present to my mind.

"It was nearly two years after Jack's death that I was taking the ten-fifty accommodation out to L----. It was a dark, drizzly night, and the headlight on the front of the engine pierced but a short distance into the gloom and fog ahead of us. I was running carefully, as I always run on such nights, and had nearly reached Carney's Ford when I saw something on the track before us. I whistled to down brakes, and reversed the lever. The train slackened, and I could see distinctly ahead of us the tall figure of a man. But we got no nearer to him, for though he seemed to be only walking, his speed was fully equal to ours. We should never overtake him. A cold shiver ran through me as I noted this fact. No mortal man could walk like that.

"'Richards,' said I to the fireman, who, ghastly and trembling with fear, was gazing at the strange apparition, 'it must be Old Nick himself, with the seven-league boots on!'

"As I spoke, the figure turned toward us, and then I saw that in his hand he carried a red lantern, the well-known signal of danger. He lifted it, swung it slowly round his head once, and, as he did so, the blood-red light fell full on his face--the face of Jack Horton. For a moment he stood motionless, then he was enveloped in a pale, azure flame, which died out instantly, and left--nothing!

"All this, which it has taken me so long to describe, took place in an instant of time, and by the time the phantom had vanished Richards and I had managed to stop the train. We got off and went ahead. The red lantern had not signaled 'danger' for nothing. A heavy stick of timber was spiked across the track, and, had we gone on at full speed, it would have sent us to swift destruction.

"The company ferreted out the rascal who had done this vile thing, and he is serving out a long term in the State prison now. I have seen him and talked with him, and he swore to me, with a voice that trembled even then with horror, that after he had spiked down the timber and had hidden in some bushes near by to watch the result, he had seen a tall man, with a red lantern in his hand, start up in front of the engine and walk, as nothing human could walk, until he reached the very spot where the danger lay.

"'And then,' said the miscreant, 'he changed into a blue flame, and vanished, and I knew that my plan was upset, and that for once Satan had gone back on them as he'd set to work.'"

"Well," said Tom Barnard, "what else?"

"That is all," said Alf, lighting another cigar.

"But what was the fellow's object in seeking to disable the train?"

"Plunder. He had ascertained that a carrying company would have a large sum of money on board that night, and he was not averse to turning an honest penny."

"But the phantom--how do you explain it?" persisted Tom.

"I don't explain it," said Alf quietly.

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342--Through the Earth; or, Jack Nelson's Invention. By Fred Thorpe.

343--The Boy Chief; or, Comrades of Camp and Trail. By John De Morgan.

344--Smart Alec; or, Bound to Get There. By Weldon J. Cobb.

345--Climbing Up; or, The Meanest Boy Alive. By Harrie Irving Hancock.

346--Comrades Three; or, With Gordon Keith in the South Seas. By
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347--A Young Snake-charmer; or, The Fortunes of Dick Erway. By Fred
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348--Checked Through to Mars; or, Adventures in Other Worlds. By
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349--Fighting the Cowards; or, Among the Georgia Moonshiners. By
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350--The Mud River Boys; or, The Fight for Penlow's Mill. By John L.
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351--Grit and Wit; or, Two of a Kind. By Fred Thorpe.

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20--Motor Matt Makes Good; or, Another Victory for the Motor Boys.

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22--Motor Matt's Enemies; or, A Struggle for the Right.

23--Motor Matt's Prize; or, The Pluck That Wins.

24--Motor Matt on the Wing; or, Flying for Fame and Fortune.

25--Motor Matt's Reverse; or, Caught in a Losing Game.

26--Motor Matt's "Make or Break"; or, Advancing the Spark of
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27--Motor Matt's Engagement; or, On the Road With a Show.

28--Motor Matt's "Short Circuit"; or, The Mahout's Vow.

29--Motor Matt's Make-up; or, Playing a New Rôle.

30--Motor Matt's Mandarin; or, Turning a Trick for Tsan Ti.

31--Motor Matt's Mariner; or, Filling the Bill for Bunce.

32--Motor Matt's Double-trouble; or, The Last of the Hoodoo.

33--Motor Matt's Mission; or, The Taxicab Tangle.

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693--Dick Merriwell in the Elk Mountains; or, The Search for "Dead
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694--Dick Merriwell in Utah; or, The Road to "Promised Land."

695--Dick Merriwell's Bluff; or, The Boy Who Ran Away.

696--Dick Merriwell in the Saddle; or, The Bunch from the Bar--Z.

697--Dick Merriwell's Ranch Friends; or, Sport on the Range.

698--Frank Merriwell at Phantom Lake; or, The Mystery of the Mad
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699--Frank Merriwell's Hold-back; or, The Boys of Bristol.

700--Frank Merriwell's Lively Lads; or, The Rival Campers.

701--Frank Merriwell as Instructor; or, The Skill of the Wizard.

702--Dick Merriwell's Cayuse; or, The Star of the Big Range.

703--Dick Merriwell's Quirt; or, The Sting of the Lash.

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MOTOR STORIES

Every boy who reads one of the splendid adventures of Motor Matt, which are making their appearance in this weekly, is at once surprised and delighted. Surprised at the generous quantity of reading matter that we are giving for five cents; delighted with the fascinating interest of the stories, second only to those published in the Tip Top Weekly.

Matt has positive mechanical genius, and while his adventures are unusual, they are, however, drawn so true to life that the reader can clearly see how it is possible for the ordinary boy to experience them.

_HERE ARE THE TITLES NOW READY AND THOSE TO BE PUBLISHED_:

1--Motor Matt; or, The King of the Wheel.

2--Motor Matt's Daring; or, True to His Friends.

3--Motor Matt's Century Run; or, The Governor's Courier.

4--Motor Matt's Race; or, The Last Flight of the "Comet."

5--Motor Matt's Mystery; or, Foiling a Secret Plot.

6--Motor Matt's Red Flier; or, On the High Gear.

7--Motor Matt's Clue; or, The Phantom Auto.

8--Motor Matt's Triumph; or, Three Speeds Forward.

9--Motor Matt's Air Ship; or, The Rival Inventors.

10--Motor Matt's Hard Luck; or, The Balloon House Plot.

11--Motor Matt's Daring Rescue; or, The Strange Case of Helen Brady.

12--Motor Matt's Peril; or, Cast Away in the Bahamas.

13--Motor Matt's Queer Find; or, The Secret of the Iron Chest.

14--Motor Matt's Promise; or, The Wreck of the "Hawk."

15--Motor Matt's Submarine; or, The Strange Cruise of the "Grampus."

16--Motor Matt's Quest; or, Three Chums in Strange Waters.

17--Motor Matt's Close Call; or, The Snare of Don Carlos.

18--Motor Matt in Brazil; or, Under the Amazon.

19--Motor Matt's Defiance; or, Around the Horn.

20--Motor Matt Makes Good; or, Another Victory for the Motor Boys.

21--Motor Matt's Launch; or, A Friend in Need.

22--Motor Matt's Enemies; or, A Struggle for the Right.

23--Motor Matt's Prize; or, The Pluck that Wins.

24--Motor Matt on the Wing; or, Flying for Fame and Fortune.

25--Motor Matt's Reverse; or, Caught in a Losing Game.

26--Motor Matt's "Make or Break"; or, Advancing the Spark of
Friendship.

27--Motor Matt's Engagement; or, On the Road With a Show.

28--Motor Matt's "Short Circuit"; or, The Mahout's Vow.

To be Published on September 6th.

29--Motor Matt's Make-up; or, Playing a New Role.

To be Published on September 13th.

30--Motor Matt's Mandarin; or, Turning a Trick for Tsan Ti.

To be Published on September 20th.

31--Motor Matt's Mariner; or, Filling the Bill for Bunce.

To be Published on September 27th.

32--Motor Matt's Double-trouble; or, The Last of the Hoodoo.

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At all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of the price.

STREET & SMITH, _Publishers_, NEW YORK

Transcriber's Notes:

Added table of contents.

Italics are represented with _underscores_, bold with =equal signs=.

Page 5, added missing quote before "Tsan Ti expressly stipulates."

Page 9, corrected "qundary" to "quandary."

Page 11, changed "thrown" to "throw" in "throw the speeder off the rails."

Page 12, added missing apostrophe to "if ye ain't?"

Page 13, changed "anl" to "and" in "and he's got shy." Changed "or" to "of" in "vicinity of the sharp curve."

Page 14, changed "declarel" to "declared" after "I don't believe it." Changed "her" to "here" in "a dozen miles from here."

Page 15, corrected double quote to single quote before "Eye of Buddha."

Page 16, corrected double "man" in "third man took it."

Page 27, corrected "countefeit" to "counterfeit" ("asked that he make a counterfeit").

Page 29, retained error ("your darn smart") from original on assumption it is intended as part of dialect.

Page 30, corrected "pickel" to "picked" ("critter you've picked").

End of Project Gutenberg's Motor Matt's Mariner, by Stanley R. Matthews