"Go on after the officer, Dick," said he. "This fellow don't intend to play fair with us. Perhaps we can take him to jail and make him talk."
"Wait, dar!" cried the darky. "You-all is so quick tuh go off an do somefin'. Yassuh, Ah reckons Ah kin remembah de place. Hit was in Toulouse Street. Ah'll take yo' dar if yo' wants tuh go."
"We'll go," answered Matt. "Get into the wagon, Dick."
The darky drove over his former course, but instead of keeping on to St. Peters he turned to the left at Toulouse, and brought up before a building two blocks from Royal.
"Dar's de bery place," said he, pointing to the building with his stump of a whip.
Matt had one of his swift "hunches" that the darky was still trying to fool them.
"You stay here with him, Dick," said he, starting to get down from the wagon. "It won't take me long to find out whether or not the chest is in that house. If it isn't there, we'll know we haven't been brought to the right place, and then we can call in the officer."
"Ah reckon yo' bettah sot right down ag'in, boss," said the expressman to Matt. "Dishyer ain't de place. Hit's on St. Peters Street, an' dis time I'll take yo' dar, hones'. 'Clar tuh goodness, Ah nebber seen sich fellers as you-all tuh stick an' hang. Now, den, we's goin' tuh de right place."
He started up his mules again.
"You're going to run foul of a lot of trouble if you keep trying to fool us," warned Dick.