"Who's it from?" queried McGlory, in a flutter.
"From Grattan," answered Matt grimly. "Listen," and he read:
"'Motor Matt: You don't know what a tight squeak you and McGlory had to-night—not aboard the Iris, but after you were put ashore. Pray accept the inclosed piece of glass with my compliments. I don't think you knew, any more than I did, that it was counterfeit. If Tsan Ti gets into any more difficulties, you take my advice and let him weather them alone.
Grattan.'"
"Shocked?" muttered McGlory. "Why, I feel as though somebody had hit me with a live wire. So Grattan found out the ruby was an imitation! And he found out in time to send that back to you last night! Say, that fellow's the king bee of all the crooks that ever lived. Present the jewel to one of these darky waiters, and let's you and I get busy with the ham and eggs. I'm glad we're for New York by the eleven-o'clock boat, and that the mandarin isn't worrying us any more."
The cowboy threw the box under the table, and would have reached for the gleaming bit of glass had not Matt grabbed it first and dropped it into his pocket.
[CHAPTER IV.]
SHOCKS TWO AND THREE.
The motor boys were very much in the dark concerning Philo Grattan's movements and intentions.
"He was right," observed Matt, referring to Grattan's note, "when he said I was in the dark as much as he was concerning that piece of glass. He wasn't fooled very long."