Chapter VIII: The Plotters

"You're a good one, Proctor!" Jurgens was saying, leaning over the chest and rubbing his hands. "This is the biggest piece of luck that ever came my way. Did Whistler have anything to do with it?"

"Whistler?" returned Bangs. "How could he have anything to do with it? He's not in town."

"I know that, but he went to see the voodoo woman to try and have her give him a line on the chest. He left yesterday, and here the chest drops into our hands. It looks to me as though old Yamousa had been giving us a helping hand."

"Bosh!" returned Bangs disgustedly, "Yamousa didn't have a thing to do with it. I was waiting for that air ship to come in, accordin' to that telegram Townsend sent to Motor Matt and which you found out about. It came, but there were only two boys in the car. They landed on Stuyvesant Dock, and they hadn't any more than got the craft secured before I was right there. I told 'em the yarn we had framed up--how Townsend was expecting them but was so busy he couldn't come, so had sent me." Bangs chuckled. "They swallowed the yarn, all right," he went on. "While I was talking I saw the iron chest in the car. Say, that almost took me off my feet. However did it happen to get into the hands of those boys?"

"Pass the ante, Proctor. Didn't they tell you?"

"Nary a word. They said Motor Matt would be along, in a little while, but that's all they told me about him. I suggested that one of them go with me to take the chest to Townsend, and the Dutch boy was the one who came. He's down in the courtyard now, waiting for Townsend to come and give him a welcome."

Bangs dropped into a chair as he finished and gave vent to a low laugh.

"Didn't they ask you how Townsend had come to get separated from the chest?" asked Jurgens.

"Yes."

"And what did you tell 'em?"

"The truth; that the chest had been stolen from Townsend. Even then the two boys wouldn't tell me where they had found the chest. I reckon Motor Matt, who seems to be pretty long-headed, must have warned them to keep mum."

Jurgens continued to chuckle and rub his hands.

"Blamed if things aren't coming our way better than I had imagined they would!" he exclaimed. "This is rich, and no mistake. And you say the Dutchman is down in the court?"

"That's it."

"Waiting for me to slip down and give him the glad hand?"

"That's what he's waiting for," guffawed Bangs.

"Well, I'll give him the hand, all right, but there'll be something in it. We've got to take care of him, in some way, until----"

Whatever Jurgens' plans were concerning Carl they did not appear. Fate, at that moment, hastened events toward a conclusion.

The square window, against which Carl was leaning and listening, was far from secure. In his interest and excitement, he bore rather harder upon the window than he intended. As a result, the window suddenly gave way and Carl fell crashing with it into the room.

Just how much the dried frog in Carl's pocket had to do with the mishap is for those versed in superstitious lore to answer. Ever since he had taken possession of the charm he had encountered a run of hard luck, but everything that had so far happened to him was trivial as compared with this final catastrophe.

Before he could get to his feet he had been pounced upon by Bangs and Jurgens, dragged clear of the broken glass and held firmly down on his back.

"He's not so much of a fool as you thought, Proctor!" growled Jurgens. "He was in the window, listening."

"Much good it'll do him!" grunted Bangs. "We've got the chest, and what he discovered won't do him any good."

"You bet it won't! Get a rope."

Bangs secured a rope from somewhere in the room and Carl was expeditiously lashed by the hands and feet.

"Himmelblitzen!" ground out Carl. "You vas a humpug, Pangs! You say you vas somet'ing, und you peen somet'ing else. Py chincher, oof I hat der use oof my handts I vould make you t'ink you vas hit mit some cyclones."

"Oh, come," laughed Bangs, "don't be so fierce. We've got you, and we've got the chest, and that pal of yours is away off on Stuyvesant Dock and hasn't the least notion where you are. Sing small, my fat kiskidee; it won't do you any good to take on."

"Vait, py chinks!" flamed Carl; "schust vait ondil Modor Matt findts oudt vat iss going on. Den, I bed you, someding vill habben. I don'd know nodding, und Tick he don'd know nodding eider; aber Matt--vell, dere iss a feller vat knows more as you. Look oudt for him, dot's all."

"Where is Motor Matt?" demanded Jurgens.

"Ask me," said Carl.

"That's what I'm doing."

"Veil, keep on; und ven I dell you somet'ing, schust led me know. Churgens, you vas a pad egg, und you vill ged vat's coming by you vone oof dose tays. How you ged off dot islant in der Pahamas?

"Ask me," taunted Jurgens.

"Vat a frame-oop!" muttered Carl dejectedly. "Look here, vonce: Vere iss Downsent?"

"Ask me again," said Jurgens mockingly.

"How you steal dot chest from him?"

"I don't mind telling you that," grinned Jurgens. "The information can't possibly harm us, because we'll be out of the way long before you can tell any one; and I'd like to have Motor Matt, who's been bucking us ever since we first went on the trail of the chest, know just what we've done to his friend Townsend.

"Townsend bobbed up off the levee in that submarine boat of his, a few days ago, and Whistler and I were on hand watching for him to arrive. He got here at night, unloaded the chest, and had a man start for town with it on a wheelbarrow. It was a foolish thing for Townsend to do--try to wheel the chest away with only himself and the man at the wheelbarrow to look out for it."

Jurgens paused and gave Bangs a wink.

"Townsend never got to the place he was going with that chest, eh, Proctor?" he continued. "We'd just lowered the chest into a rowboat when a couple of watchman came along. We got off from the levee to wait until the watchman got past, and then, when we went after the boat, it had disappeared. We hunted good and hard for it, but haven't seen the boat since. Whistler went to talk with a voodoo woman he used to know to see if she could tell him what became of the boat and the chest. He hasn't got back yet; but here's the chest, big as life, all safely locked and ready for us to open it. Where did you fellows pick up the chest, Dutchy?"

"Talk aboudt der vedder," suggested Carl.

"Oh, well, if you don't want to loosen up you needn't. We knew you were coming here to help Townsend. Townsend sent you a telegram--or, rather, Cassidy, one of his men, sent the telegram the next day after we got hold of the chest. Townsend hadn't shown up on the submarine, but Cassidy had his orders, I reckon. An assistant of mine was shadowing Cassidy, and he discovered the contents of the message. After that, I had Proctor down on the river front waiting for you to arrive in the _Hawk_. Proctor was surprised when he found that you were bringing the chest with you. It was a joyful surprise for all of us, and you and Ferral dropped into Proctor's trap too easy for any use. I wonder if you've got anything of importance about your clothes? Search him, Proctor."

Carl never had much money, and very little else of any importance, in his pockets. He had nothing, now, but, as Bangs knelt beside him and began his search, Carl thought instantly of the dried frog.

So far from being a luck bringer, the frog was a hoodoo. Carl was thoroughly convinced of that; and he had a feeling that no good fortune could come his way so long as he kept Yamousa's charm in his pocket. He wanted to unload it, and he would rather unload it upon Bangs or Jurgens than any one else. If he could give them the same run of hard luck that he had been having, it might be easier for Matt to recover the chest.

"I don'd got nodding," said Carl, squirming and playing a part which he had swiftly mapped out for himself.

"I reckon what he says is true," Bangs reported, having discovered only a jackknife, a fishline, a stump of a lead pencil, and a ham sandwich. "He's panning out mighty slim, Jurgens. If---- Ha! what's this?"

Bangs pulled the dried frog out of Carl's hip pocket, looked at it curiously and held it up for Jurgens' inspection.

"Great guns!" exclaimed Jurgens. "It looks like a dead frog."

"Gif it pack!" cried Carl, to all appearances greatly perturbed. "It vas Moder Matt's charm, his luck pringer. It don'd vas vort' anyt'ing to you."

"Motor Matt's luck bringer, eh?" muttered Bangs. "Well, from all I heard of that fellow his luck has been phenomenal. Do you want this thing, Jurgens?"

"Not I, Proctor," answered Jurgens.

"Then," went on Bangs, coolly appropriating the charm, "I'll just take it myself and see if some of Motor Matt's luck won't come my way."

"I thought you didn't believe in such things?"

"No more I don't, but I'm going to test this amulet and see what it will do for me."

"Take efervt'ing else vat I got," begged Carl, "only gif me pack dot charm!"

"Not on your life!" said Bangs. "If it's so valuable to Motor Matt it ought to be worth just as much to me."

Carl, it is needless to say, was delighted to have the trouble maker in Bangs' possession. It was the first bright spot in his experiences since leaving the docks with Bangs and the expressman.

"Get a cold chisel and a hammer, Proctor," said Jurgens, briskly; "it's high time we got the chest opened and pulled out with the treasure."

"You leaf dot chest alone!" fumed Carl.

"Yes?" laughed Jurgens. "Well, hardly. Just lie there, Dutchy, and see us dig out more treasure than you ever set eyes on in your life before. When you leave here, you can tell Townsend how we got away with the loot. Inform him, for me that Lat Jurgens wasn't born yesterday, and that it will take a better man than Nemo, Jr., to get the best of him."

At that moment, Bangs came up with a cold chisel and a hammer and fell to work on the treasure box.