Jurgens and Whistler seemed stupefied. They stared at each other, then at Bangs, and then at the grinning face of Dashington.
"If I could see as much as two bones in this, gents," remarked the youth, "I'd be tickled out of my kicks. This Motor Matt must be a beaut if he looks like yours truly. What's in the letter? Can't we use it some way and get a strangle hold on a basket of rocks? I've got a horrible financial stringency staring me in the face, and I'm ripe for anything."
An idea, just then, laid hold of Jurgens.
"By George!" he exclaimed. "Fate must have framed up this whole play for our especial benefit. Get together, all of you, and listen to me! I've got a scheme, and it's a world beater."
[CHAPTER III.]
DOUBLE-TROUBLE.
Carl and Dick, on the levee, gazed dumfounded at the points in the press of vehicles where the carriage had disappeared, and then faced the other way and peered at the chagrined policeman, the blackened and smoking cotton bale, and the loungers who were crowding about the officer. The roustabouts had all gone back to their work.
"Pinch me, vonce!" begged Carl. "I bed you I vas ashleep, Tick."