Just off the foot of Canal Street a steamer was loading for False River. Four-mule teams attached to heavy drays were backed up to the wharf and long lines of darkies were crossing the gang plank with bags on their shoulders and recrossing empty-handed for other burdens.
It was an attractive scene for the two boys and they halted for a few moments to watch; then, suddenly, a big surprise was sprung on them. They saw Motor Matt, hands in his pockets, loafing along the levee—at least they thought it was Motor Matt, for the lad was of the same build, the same height and with a face exactly like the young motorist's. Carl and Dick knew Matt so well that they were positive they were not mistaken, but there was something about Matt they could not understand.
In the first place, Matt was slouching along. That wasn't like him, for as a rule he was as spry as a cricket in all his movements. Then, again, Matt was wearing a slouch hat, a dingy red sweater and frayed corduroy trousers—all as different as possible from the trim young motorist in his leather cap and jacket. But—and this was the most incomprehensible thing to Carl and Dick—Matt was smoking a cigarette. Now, Motor Matt was down on cigarettes good and hard, for he knew the havoc they made with a fellow's constitution, and that no one could keep in the pink of condition if he used them; and yet, there he was with one of the rice-paper things hanging between his lips.
Small wonder Carl and Dick were astounded. If a small-sized earthquake had happened along and shaken things up generally the two boys could not have been more astounded.
Although they were in plain view, yet Matt did not seem to notice them. For a while they stared—and then, abruptly, Dick had an idea.
"He's in disguise," averred Dick.
"For vy iss he dot?" inquired Carl.
"It must be he's watching somebody and don't want the fellow to know who he is."
"Vat a foolishness!" muttered Carl. "He can't make some disguises unless he geds anodder face. I vould know dot face oof his anyvere, no madder how he vas got oop, nor how many cigarettes he shmoked. Ach, du lieber! I am surbrised ad him, und dot's all aboudt it."
"Well," continued Dick, "this letter of Townsend's is important and I've got to get it into his hands. If Matt is watching somebody, the thing is to hand him the letter without giving him away. Any one seeing us chinning with him would suspect right away that he was our chum, for all three of us are pretty well known up and down the river front."