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Read Ebook: Motor Matt's Submarine; or The Strange Cruise of the Grampus by Matthews Stanley R
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Ebook has 853 lines and 32957 words, and 18 pages
"A young woman--and she says she's in a hurry."
Matt was puzzled. He did not know any young ladies in New Orleans, and couldn't imagine why one should come to the hotel and ask for him.
"I'll go right up," said he--and immediately took the first step into a snare that had been laid for him.
HURRY-UP ORDERS.
When Matt entered the bare little room on the second floor which served as a public parlor for the hotel, a girl of sixteen or seventeen arose to meet him. She had black hair and eyes, was well dressed, and looked like a Spanish se?orita.
"Motor Matt?" she asked, stepping toward him with an engaging smile.
"My name," he answered.
The girl's English was good, so Matt argued that she was not a Spaniard after all.
"No," he answered, "I did not know that Mr. Townsend had a niece."
To say that Matt was "stumped" would hardly do justice to his feelings.
"British Honduras?" he echoed.
"Yes; the boat sails from the Fruit Company's dock."
"But why am I and my friends to go to British Honduras?"
"I don't know. My uncle gave me the tickets and asked me to hand them to you and tell you to expect word from him at Belize. He said the work was very important, and that you must not say a word about it to anybody."
"I don't know anything about the work, Miss Harris," answered Matt, "so it won't be possible for me to say anything to any one."
"This is mighty sudden," murmured Matt dazedly. "Why couldn't Mr. Townsend have called me out to the house and talked this over with me yesterday?"
"He didn't know anything about it yesterday, Motor Matt. In fact, the work only came to his knowledge an hour ago."
"Wasn't he well enough to come and tell me himself?"
"No."
"How am I to hear from him in Belize?"
Miss Harris tossed her head petulantly.
Miss Harris used her lustrous Spanish eyes with telling effect.
"Certainly we will go," broke in Matt, "only it was such a hurry-up order that it rather floored me. I and my pards have been waiting to hear from Mr. Townsend about some work which he was going to do when he got well enough. Perhaps the work has something to do with you?"
Matt was clever at drawing inferences. There might be Spanish blood in Miss Harris' veins--British Honduras was partially peopled with men and women of Spanish descent--and here was a call to Belize. Then, again, Miss Harris had only recently arrived in New Orleans, and it required no great stretch of fancy to imagine that she had sprung, thus suddenly, some line of endeavor for which her uncle had been waiting.
"Yes."
A strange glow danced in the girl's expressive eyes.
"That is nice of you," said she. "Here are the tickets. My uncle was so sure you'd go that he got them and secured your stateroom reservations."
Matt took the envelope the girl handed to him and walked down the stairs with her. She bade him good-by at the ladies' entrance, and, as he turned to go back to the office he had a disturbing thought.
If there had been time to secure tickets and cabin reservations, there should have been time for Townsend to give Matt and his chums a little more notice of that trip to Honduras.
Matt, however, had abundant faith in Townsend. Undoubtedly he was proceeding in the manner that best suited his plans.
"Come on, boys," said the young motorist, hurrying up to Dick and Carl, "we've got to pack, and be in a rush about it."
"Ease up a bit on that jaw-tackle, mate," interrupted Dick, grabbing Carl's arm and hurrying him off after Matt. "It's as plain as the nose on your face that some kind of word has been received from Townsend, but it's just as plain that there's no time to talk about it. Matt's in a tearing hurry, and it's up to us to pull back into our shells, hustle the stuff into our dunnage-bags, and wait for him to tell us what we want to know."
When Dick and Carl reached their room, Matt was already throwing his belongings into a grip. The sailor and the Dutch boy got busy.
"The girl is a Miss Sadie Harris," explained Matt as he worked, "and she's a niece of Townsend's."
"Vas she a pooty goot looker?" inquired Carl, rolling up his eyes.
"What's that got to do with it?" demanded Dick.
"Nodding, only id vas more romandick oof a pooty girl vas mixed oop in der pitzness."
"My eye!" exploded Dick. "Well, cut out the romance. Unless I'm wide of the course this is nothing but pure business. Eh, Matt?"
"Yes," answered Matt. "We're to sail at ten o'clock for Belize, in British Honduras."
Carl slumped into a chair with a gasp.
"Pridish Honturas!" he gurgled. "Vere iss dot? Ofer py China someveres?"
"It's in Central America, you saphead!" cried Dick. "I've been in those waters, and I'm a Feejee if they ever took much of my fancy."
"Miss Harris brought our tickets," proceeded Matt, "and she's going to sail on the same boat."
"Vat are ve to do ven ve ged dere?"
"Wait for instructions from Townsend."
"Then Townsend isn't sailing with us, mate?"
"No."
"Well, keelhaul me, it's a queer course that's been laid for us. What makes it queerer is, that in all the time we've been hooked up with Townsend he's never once mentioned his niece."
"Townsend is an odd chap, in some ways, but he's as straight as a string for all that," returned the young motorist. "This work in Honduras, I feel pretty sure, has something to do with the girl."
"I like dot," spoke up Carl, kneeling on his rusty old suit-case in order to make the cover go down. "Peauty in tisdress alvays cuts some ice mit me. Dere! I vas alretty for anyding vat comes my vay."
"I'm ready, too," added Dick.
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