Chapter IV: Murgatroyd's First Move

Motor Matt was a keen reader of character. At first glance, and from a distance, he had not liked Hackberry's appearance any too well; and now, at closer view, he liked it less.

"I am Motor Matt," said he.

"Sho," muttered the horseman; "hit it first clatter out o' the box, didn't I?"

After a cautious look around, he dismounted and thrust his arm through the loop of the bridle.

"What I got to say is private," said he, "an' I guess we better go off some'r's by ourselves."

"We couldn't talk with any more privacy if we were a hundred miles away. Where are you from, Mr. Hackberry?"

"From over in Wells County. Ye see, I got a claim over there, an'---- But say, are ye plumb sure it's safe fer us ter talk? I was warned ter look out fer Siwash Charley an' his friends, and fer any other tinhorns that might be workin' fer Murgatroyd."

"Who warned you?"

"Mrs. Traquair."

"Then you're from Jamestown?"

"Not much I ain't! Mrs. Traquair ain't in Jimtown. Say, what sort of a lookin' feller is this Siwash Charley?"

"Never mind about that just now. Siwash Charley isn't around here, nor are any other of Murgatroyd's friends. Tell me how you came to have a talk with Mrs. Traquair?"

"Well, as I was sayin', I got a claim over t'other side o' Sykestown. It jines corners with a homestead Harry Traquair took up--the same Harry Traquair what mortgaged his quarter section fer enough ter go ter Jimtown an' build a flyin' machine. Well, I haven't put down a well on my claim yet, so I gits my drinkin' water from Traquair's claim, that bein' the nighest. There ain't been any one livin' in Traquair's shack fer a year, an' I was kinder surprised, t'other day, when I seen a man movin' around the place. I talked with the feller while I was gittin' a bucket o' water, an' he says he's come there ter take keer o' the crops. He was a tough-lookin' chap, an' I didn't like his looks any too well, but if Mrs. Traquair had sent him, and he suited her, why, he ort ter suit me, too.

"While I was talkin' with the man, me by the pump an' facin' the side of the house, an' him standin' with his back to the wall, a piece of paper was pushed out from between the boards an' dropped down on the ground.

"At first I was goin' ter tell the man about it, an' then I allowed it was purty queer--that shack leakin' a piece o' paper through the side that way, an' I held in about it. You know how these claim shacks is built--some of 'em jest throwed tergether, with cracks between the boards big enough ter heave a dog out of.

"Bymby the feller I was talkin' to excused himself an' went inter the house. The road I took carried me along the wall, an' as I went by I stooped down an' picked up the paper. There was writin' on it, an' I wah plumb surprised when I read that writin'. Here, I'll let ye see it fer yerself."

Hackberry dug up a three-cornered scrap of brown paper from the depths of his pocket, shook some loose tobacco out of it, and handed it to Matt.

Matt managed to make the following out of the hastily written scrawl:

"I have been waiting, Mr. Hackberry, and trying to get word to you.
If you see this, and pick it up, it will inform you that I was lured
to this place from Jamestown, that I am being kept a prisoner here,
and that I must talk with you as soon as possible, or the homestead
will be taken away from me. Come quietly to the side of the house,
where you picked up this paper, at night. I can whisper to you what I
want, and the man who is keeping me a prisoner will never know. You
used to be a friend of poor Harry's, so I hope you will help me.

"MRS. TRAQUAIR."

It would have been hard to describe Matt's feelings as he read this penciled scrawl. It had been a week since he had received a letter from Mrs. Traquair, and the cunning Murgatroyd might have carried out many underhand plans in a week!

"Did you go to the house that night, Mr. Hackberry?" asked Matt.

"Did I? Why, o' course I did. Bein' such a friend o' Harry Traquair's, why shouldn't I try ter help his wife? They was allus good neighbors."

"What did Mrs. Traquair say to you?"

"What we said was all whisperin' an' through a knot hole that was broke out in the wall. She said a feller named Murgatroyd had wanted ter git the homestead away from her, an' that he wasn't goin' ter let her go back ter her children until she give him a quitclaim deed ter the hundred an' sixty. I told her ter let me go ter Sykestown an' git the deperty sher'ff, an' that him an' me 'u'd snake her out o' that shack too quick. But she wouldn't allow that. 'No,' she says, an' her voice was that sobbin' an' plaintive it would have moved a heart o' stone; 'no,' she says, ''cause then Murgatroyd might hear what was goin' on an' have me took away ter some other place.' She d'ruther have me, she says, come ter Fort Totten an' give a letter ter Motor Matt. 'He'll know what ter do,' she says, 'an' he's a lad o' fine sperrit, an' I owe him a lot.' So she poked out this letter, an' I've rid hossback all the way from my shack, an' I been all o' two days makin' the trip."

As he finished, Hackberry dug up the letter from another pocket. It was inclosed in a soiled yellow envelope and was addressed to "Motor Matt, Fort Totten."

Matt tore off the end of the envelope, and drew out a sheet of paper of the same color as that which Hackberry had already shown him. The letter was short, but sufficiently startling.

"MY DEAR FRIEND: I have fallen into the hands of Murgatroyd--Mr.
Hackberry will tell you where I am. Murgatroyd seems determined
to get the homestead. I know you will come to my rescue, but come
quickly.

"MRS. TRAQUAIR."

"Anythin' else you want ter know?" asked Hackberry.

"This is terrible!" exclaimed Matt. "I can hardly think even Murgatroyd would do such a thing."

"I don't know nothin' 'bout that. I ain't acquainted none with this Murgatroyd, but I can tell ye there's some mighty tough citizens in this here State."

"How in the world could Murgatroyd lure Mrs. Traquair away from Jamestown?"

"Ye got me. Mrs. Traquair didn't say. We didn't talk much more'n we had to, seein' as how the feller that had charge o' the shack might come in on us at any minit."

"And how," went on Matt, "can Murgatroyd hope to make Mrs. Traquair give up the claim?"

"I guess he expects ter keep her a pris'ner until she signs the quitclaim."

"A quitclaim deed, secured like that, wouldn't hold in law for a minute! Murgatroyd has loaned enough money to understand that."

"Like enough, but it's some sich game he's tryin', jest the same."

Motor Matt was puzzled. Hackberry's story seemed straight enough, but there were points about it that made him incredulous.

"What ye goin 'ter do, Motor Matt?" asked Hackberry.

"I'm going to look after Mrs. Traquair," declared Matt.

"Sure! That's what she said ye'd do. Better git a hoss an' ride back with me."

"It has taken you two days to come, Hackberry. Why didn't you come by train?"

"Fer one thing, I didn't have no money. Fer another, I was afeared Murgatroyd might have some spies hangin' around Sykestown, so I dodged the place by comin' cross-kentry. I reckon we'd better go back the same way I come, hey?"

"No, it's too slow. I'll go by train."

Hackberry appeared disappointed.

"What'll I tell Mrs. Traquair?" he asked.

"You'll not be able to tell her anything--I'll get to her homestead long before you do. Where is it?"

"Eighteen mile due west o' Sykestown; anybody kin tell ye the place when ye git started from Sykestown on the main road. I won't be able ter go with ye, seein' as how I got my hoss ter git back."

"Well, Hackberry, you follow Mrs. Traquair's instructions and say nothing to any one. She evidently knows what it is best to do. I'll look after her, and after this man Murgatroyd, too. Mrs. Traquair has money, and you'll be well repaid for your trouble."

"Money 'u'd come handy ter me, an' that's a fact," said Hackberry, "though I'd have done this fer Mrs. Traquair if there hadn't been a cent comin'. When'll ye start?"

"Just as soon as I can."

"Ye'll go by the way of Sykestown?"

"There's no other way if I go by railroad."

"All right, then. The responsibility is off'n my shoulders an' onter yourn. Good-by."

Hackberry rode off along the road in the direction of the town of Lallie, which lay on his homeward route. Matt, as soon as the messenger had started, hurried up to the post.

There was a telegraph office there and he sent a couple of messages. One was to Mrs. Harry Traquair, Jamestown, North Dakota, and asked if she was well and at home. The other was to a lawyer in Jamestown named Matthews, with whom Matt had some acquaintance, and requested the lawyer to let him know, at once, whether Mrs. Traquair and Murgatroyd were in Jamestown.

Matt was suspicious of Hackberry, and wanted to be sure of his ground before he made any move. At the same time, Matt realized that there was not a moment to be lost if Mrs. Traquair was really being held a prisoner in the shack on her homestead.

In order to get to Sykestown by train, Matt would have to go to Carrington, change cars, and proceed on the branch to his destination. At the post he learned that there was a train on the branch only every other day. More than that, the train south from Minnewaukon had left for that day and there would not be another until the following morning. If he waited until morning and took the train, he would be set down in Carrington on one of the days when the train was not running on the branch. It seemed as though he was bound to lose at least two days before he could get to Sykestown, and that it might have been better, after all, if he had gone with Hackberry on horseback.

Greatly disturbed, he went back to Camp Traquair and told McGlory the latest news.

"It's a scheme o' some kind," averred the cowboy. "I'll bet money, pard, you get a telegram from Mrs. Traquair saying she's all right."

But Matt received no message from Mrs. Traquair. He did get one from Matthews, however, and Cameron brought it down from the post.

Hastily Matt tore open the message and read it.

"Murgatroyd not in town for two weeks; Mrs. Traquair not in town for
a week. Can't find where either has gone. MATTHEWS."

Matt believed, then, that Hackberry had told the truth and that the letter was genuine. And so it happened that Murgatroyd's first move in his rascally game was attended with success.