Motor Matt's Submarine; or, The Strange Cruise of the Grampus, Page 2

  CHAPTER II.

  MIXED MESSAGES.

  "I tell you somet'ing," said Carl Pretzel gloomily, "I don'd likehanging aroundt mitoudt any pitzness. Id geds on my nerfs, yah, sohelup me. For six tays, now, ve haf peen loafing in New Orleans, undeferyt'ing vas so keviet as some Quaker meedings. Nodding habbens. Vydon'd ve hear from Downsent mit a hurry-oop call to ged busy, eh?"

  It was nine o'clock in the evening of the day preceding that on whichthe _Grampus_ had got away in the wake of the _Santa Maria_, and MotorMatt, Dick and Carl were lounging in the small office of the SnugHarbor.

  For two or three days Carl had been restless. He had visited all thefive-cent shows on Canal Street, he had made a sight-seeing tourthrough the French Quarter, he had gone out to Lake Pontchartrain, andhe had done various other things to pass away the time and make someexcuse for his idleness, but his energetic spirit was not to be muzzled.

  "Take it easy, old ship," said Dick; "I'm as anxious as you are totrip anchor and slant away for some port where we can do things, butthere's a notion rattling around in my locker that it won't be long nowbefore we run afoul of something real exciting. We were to wait a weekon Townsend, and the week will be up to-morrow. We'll hear from himthen, and I'll bank on it."

  "So will I," spoke up Matt. "Don't be so impatient, Carl. Adventuresare all right, but there are a few other things in life for fellowslike us to think about."

  "T'anks, brofessor," answered Carl, humbly. "Vat else vould you t'inkaboudt oof you vanted to be among der life vones?"

  "An academy, for instance," said Matt with a far-away look in his grayeyes, "and a spell of grubbing at the stores of knowledge preparatoryto a college course."

  "Helup!" gasped Carl; "bolice! Matt is t'inking oof cutting himselufoudt oof our herd, Tick, und going to school. Shpeaking for meinseluf,ven I go to school I don'd go, for I play vat you call hookey undt lookfor atvendures. All has got to go mit shnap und chincher for me, undvere iss lifeliness in pooks? Ach, donnervetter!"

  "Avast, there, matey!" said Dick. "Matt is right. Adventures are allwell enough in their place, but a cruise in the waters of learning is amain fine thing--for those who can afford it. Some day Matt will be inan academy, and some other day he will be in Harvard or Yale, and theKing of the Motor Boys will be done with the buzz-engines for always."

  Matt pulled himself together and laughed softly.

  "Never, as long as I live," he declared, "will I be done with gasolenemotors. Don't fool yourself on that for a minute. I may----"

  "A message for you, Motor Matt. Just came off the wires."

  A messenger boy pushed in among the three chums and handed a yellowenvelope to Matt. All the messenger boys, together with nearly everyone else in New Orleans, knew Motor Matt at least by sight. Hiswork with the air ship, _Hawk_, which had recently been wrecked anddestroyed, had kept him and his friends prominently in the public eyefor some time.

  "Sign the book, Dick," said Matt, tearing open the envelope.

  "Vat you t'ink oof dot?" breathed Carl in a spasm of joyful excitementas the messenger boy went away. "Ve talk oof vanting t'ings to habben,und righdt off dey pegin. Ach, vat a luck! How easy id iss to bejeerful--somedimes!"

  "Mayhap that message isn't anything to be cheerful about, Carl," saidDick. "I'll bet some one is asking to buy the _Hawk_, and her poor oldbones are rusting in a live oak, down by Bayou Yamousa."

  "Dot ain'd my guess, you bed you," palpitated Carl. "I t'ink id isssomepody asking vill ve go by der Spanish Main und hunt for birateshtuff. Vat a habbiness oof id iss!"

  "You're both wrong," said Matt, a perplexed look on his face. "Therehas been some mistake in the telegraph office, and this message isn'tfor me."

  "Not for you, mate?" queried Dick, picking the envelope off Matt'sknee. "It's addressed plain enough--'Motor Matt, Care Snug HarborHotel, New Orleans.'"

  "There's a different name inside," returned Matt.

  "Vat id iss?" asked Carl, curiosity in a measure drawing the sting ofdisappointment.

  "'Captain James Sixty,'" read off Matt, "'Snug Harbor Hotel, NewOrleans, Louisiana.' The address is the same, but the name isdifferent."

  "Meppy der message iss for you, anyvay," persisted Carl. "Read him oferund meppy you can dell."

  "No, the message is part of the puzzle. Listen: 'In latitudetwenty-eight degrees thirty minutes and twenty seconds north, longitudeninety-two degrees fourteen minutes and thirty-four seconds west twodays ago. No wind and no drift since.' How could that possibly be forus, pards?"

  "Id's some conuntrums, und dot's all aboudt id," grumbled Carldejectedly. "Nodding habbens mit us more as you findt on aSuntay-school bicnic, und I'm going to ped mit meinseluf und hope forpedder t'ings in der morning. Good nighdt, bards."

  With that Carl got up disgustedly and left the hotel office.

  "How do you account for that, mate?" asked Dick.

  "The messages got into the wrong envelopes," answered Matt. "Mr. JamesSixty must be staying in this hotel. He's got my message and I've gothis. That means we've got to find each other and exchange. Come on,Dick. We'll go over and talk with the clerk."

  When they got to the desk they found a hulk of a man with a very redface talking with the night man in the office. The red-faced man seemedvery much put out about something. He had a voice like a fog horn, andhe was using it with a good deal of power. As Matt and Dick approachedthe desk the clerk suddenly put out his hand and stopped the flow oflanguage.

  "There's Motor Matt now," said he. "Here, Matt!" he called. "Have yougot a telegram that don't belong to you? There's been a mix-up inmessages, somehow, for Captain Sixty, here, has got one you ought tohave. He was just asking me where you could be found."

  "I was just coming to ask you about Captain Sixty," said Matt, holdingout the message.

  Sixty turned and snatched the message away.

  "D'you read it?" he roared.

  "Couldn't very well help it, captain," answered Matt. "If you'll lookat the envelope you'll see it's addressed to me."

  "I like some people's nerve," scowled the captain. "Here's your'n."

  He flung a crumpled yellow sheet at Matt.

  "It looks as though you'd read this," said Matt, "so I guess we're nomore than even."

  An angry gurgle came from Sixty's bull-like throat.

  "I'll raise Cain if I find out this mix-up was done a-purpose," hegrowled.

  "I don't see what anybody could want to do such a thing as that for,"returned Matt.

  The captain flung about and gave Matt an insolent up-and-down stare.

  "Oh, you don't, huh?" he muttered. "Well, mebby it's well you don't."

  The captain rolled away.

  "The way to talk with him," said Dick resentfully, "is with a belayingpin. He looks like an old shellback, and I'll bet he's a bucko. Butwhat's the message, mate?"

  "A man in Boston wants to buy the _Hawk_," answered Matt, "and asks usto name our price. He says he knows Archibald Townsend, and refers usto him as to his financial standing."

  "I could have kissed the book on that, Matt," said Dick soberly."Keelhaul me if I don't wish we had that blessed little flying machinethis minute."

  "So do I. But there's no use crying about it, Dick. Maybe we'll buildanother, some time; just now, though, we ought to think more about bedthan anything else."

  "I'm ready to do a caulk, if you are."

  "Come on, then."

  As they were leaving the office to go upstairs to their room Matt tooka look around. Captain Sixty was sitting in a chair in the corner, hismessage opened out on his knee. But his fishy little orbs were not onthe message, but on Matt; and there was a glittering distrust in themwhich Matt could not fail to notice. However, he said nothing about itto Dick, and very soon forgot it himself.

  Next morning the boys were hoping to hear from Townsend. Townsend,otherwise Captain Nemo, Jr., of the submarine _Grampus_, had some workin which he wanted Matt and his friends to assist him, and he had askedMatt, Dick and Carl to remain a we
ek in New Orleans, at his expense,until he should be well enough to tell them about the work and get itunder way.

  The following day rounded out the period of time Townsend had asked for.

  After breakfast the boys hung about the hotel waiting for somecommunication from Prythania Street. Toward the middle of the forenoona bell boy ran into the office and hurried to the place where Matt wassitting with Dick and Carl.

  "You're wanted in the parlor, Motor Matt," said the boy.

  "Dere id vas!" exclaimed Carl delightedly. "Ve got id now, Tick."

  "Who wants me?" asked Matt.

  "A young woman--and she says she's in a hurry."

  Matt was puzzled. He did not know any young ladies in New Orleans, andcouldn'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 asnare that had been laid for him.