Another nod.
Matt, oppressed with what he had heard, and which he felt instinctively was the truth, resumed his seat on the wagon tongue.
The ruby might be lying anywhere over the wild course Sam Wing had taken in his flight. Perhaps it was mixed with the loose earth of the side hill where the Chinaman had fallen, or it might be under the leaves in the woods, or in the dust of the road, or in the bottom of the creek.
Of one thing Matt was sure, and that was that to retrace the exact line of Sam Wing's flight would be impossible; and, even if it were possible, finding the red gem would be as difficult as looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.
The Eye of Buddha seemed to be lost irretrievably. This was like to prove a tragic event for Tsan Ti.
It was strange what ill luck had attended upon all in any way connected with the idol's eye; and doubly strange was this final loss of the precious stone.
While Matt was busily turning the catastrophe over in his mind, the farmer suddenly gave a shout and pointed through the open barn door and along the road.
"Great sassafrass!" he exclaimed. "I never seen sich a day fer Chinamen! Look there, will yew?"
Matt looked, and what he saw staggered him. Two motor cycles were coming down the road. Bunce was riding one and Tsan Ti the other. Here was another flight and pursuit, for the sailor was pushing hard upon the heels of the mandarin.
For only a moment was Matt at loss. Gathering up the coil of rope which he had taken from the nail in the barn wall, he called to the farmer to watch the prisoner and ran out of the barn and toward the road.