"Not me," was the gruff answer, and both of the sailor's hands dropped into his pockets.
"If he won't stop," cried McGlory, "then here's where we make him!"
He and Matt started on a run toward the sailor. The latter whirled around, his arms drew back, and his hands shot forward. Two round, glimmering objects left his palms and tinkled into fragments at the feet of the two boys. An overpowering odor arose in the still air—wafted upward in a cloud of strangling fumes that caught at the throats of Matt and McGlory, blinded their eyes, and sapped at their strength.
McGlory fell to his knees.
"The—glass—balls——" he gasped, and flattened out helplessly, the last word fading into a gurgle.
"Leave the Eye o' Buddha alone!" were the hoarse words that echoed in Matt's ears.
And they were the last sounds of which he was cognizant for some time. He crumpled down at the side of his chum, made one last desperate struggle to recover his strength, and then the darkness closed him in.
[CHAPTER IV.]
THE PAPER CLUE.