THE MAN AT THE ROADSIDE.

Back past Hop Loo's adobe Matt drove the car, and on into the open country. For five or six miles the road ran as straight as an arrow, and was almost as level and smooth as a boulevard. Ahead of them, as they moved forward, the boys could see the marks left by the wheels when the car had passed over the road headed toward town. No other pneumatic tires had left a trail in the dust.

"I bed you somet'ing, Matt," remarked Carl, "dot dis car don'd pelong py Ash Fork."

"There's only one car owned in Ash Fork," said Matt, "and that belongs to the cattleman I came to the town to see. From the looks of the road, no car has come into town or gone out of it for several hours, except this one. Keep a sharp watch on your side of the road, Carl. We've got to find the place where the car stopped while the driver was lashing the wheel and getting out."

"Py shinks, I haf peen vatching as sharp as some veasels, aber I don'd see nodding."

Matt was covering the back trail slowly, so that no clues which might have been left in the road could get away from his keen eyes.

For a long time neither he nor Carl saw anything of importance; and then, suddenly, when they were about four miles from town, Matt's sharp glance showed him something that caused him to bring the car to a quick stop.

"Vat it iss?" asked Carl excitedly.

"Get down and I'll show you," answered Matt.

When they were both in the road, beside the car, Matt pointed to a spot close to the wheel-marks left by the car on its trip into town.

"Py shinks," muttered Carl, pushing his fingers through his carroty hair in a puzzled way, "dot looks schust like some feller had t'rowed a bag der car off. Dose marks in der dust look schust like dey vas made mit some pags."

"It must have been a bag that could move, then," said Matt.

"Huh?" queried Carl, his bewilderment growing.

Matt showed him how the broad mark in the dust had moved toward the roadside.

"And that bag, as you call it, Carl," continued Matt, "wasn't thrown out. If I'm figuring this thing right, it fell out."

"Hoop-a-la!" exulted Carl admiringly, "you vas some Sherlock Holmes, I bed you. How you make dot figuring, anyvay? I know as mooch as you, meppy, oof I could only t'ink oof it. You tell me somet'ing, und den I know."

Matt stepped toward the side of the road opposite from that where the broad, flat mark ran toward the edge.

"You see, Carl," he explained, "this road isn't quite so level here. There's a bit of a ridge, and when the car came into town, the wheels on the left side went over that ridge, tilting the machine to the right. What you call the bag dropped over the right side and into the road."

"Yah, so! Und ven it hit der road it moofed mit itseluf. Funny pitzness. Der furder vat ve go, der less vat ve know, hey? Vat next, Matt?"

"We'll follow the trail and see where it leads."

"Sure! Aber ve don'd vant to go too far avay from der car. Some goot-for-nodding fellers might come along und shnook it on us."

"I don't think we'll have to go very far, Carl."

"Veil, be jeerful. Vatefer ve findt, Matt, schust be jeerful. Oof I can't go py Tenfer in dot car it vill be a plow in der face; aber vatch und see how I took it."

Low bushes lined the roadside. Matt, not paying much attention to Carl's last remarks, was moving off in the direction of the bushes, following the strange broad trail.

Parting the branches at the outer edge of the thicket, he moved into the tangled undergrowth. Carl, who was pushing along behind him, saw him stoop down and disappear below the tops of the bushes. The next moment, the Dutch boy heard a startled exclamation, and Matt straightened up quickly. His face, which he turned toward Carl, had gone suddenly white.

"Come here, Carl!" he called.

"You findt der moofing pag, hey?" asked Carl, floundering through the brush.

Then, a second later, Carl's face also blanched.

Coming close to Matt, and looking down, he saw the form of a man curled up in a little cleaned space in the thicket. The man's hat lay beside him, and about his forehead was tied a blood-stained handkerchief. His face was pallid and deathlike, and his eyes were closed.

"Himmelblitzen!" whispered Carl. "Iss he deadt, I vonder?"

Matt knelt down and laid a hand on the man's breast; then, lifting up one of his limp wrists, he pressed his fingers against the pulse.

"He's alive," said Matt.

"Den it vasn't a pag vat tropped oudt oof der car——"

"It was this man," cut in Matt. "He was sitting in the driver's seat. When the car pitched to the right he was too weak to hold himself in, so he fell into the road."

"Und hurt his head ven he fell!"

"No, he must have hurt his head before he fell. It wasn't so very long ago, Carl, that he took his header from the car, and that bandage must have been around his temples for two or three hours, at least."

"Den vat? Oof he vas too veak to shtay py der car, how he tie der veel like vat it vas?"

"He must have been running the car and steering. Feeling his strength going, he lashed the wheel in order to keep the machine on a straight course. Probably he hoped the car would get him into town."

"How you t'ink he vas hurt?"

"Give it up. It looks like foul play to me."

"Ach, blitzen! Dot's schust vat I say: Der more vat ve hunt aroundt der less vat ve find oudt."

The man was well dressed, and thirty-five or forty years old.

"Anyhow," said Matt, "he must have been the owner of the car. I shouldn't wonder if some one had robbed him."

"Den der roppers didn't know deir pitzness, Matt," returned Carl. "See dot pig, goldt chain in his vest! Und look at here vonce." Carl bent over and pulled a fine gold watch from the vest pocket. "Vat vas der roppers t'inking aboudt ven dey held der feller oop und didn't take dis? Und den, again, dere iss der car. Vy didn't dey shdeal dot, hey? No, I bed you, it vasn't roppers. It vas somet'ing else vat gif dot poor feller a crack on der headt."

"Some one may have tried to rob him, Carl," said Matt. "The car is a fast one, and it's easy to guess that he got away."

"Vell, meppy. My prain vas all in kinks und I don'd know noddings aboudt it."

"The quickest way to find out what happened is to get the man to Ash Fork and into a doctor's hands. We ought to do that, anyway, and the quicker we do it the better. Let's take him and put him in the tonneau."

"Dot's der talk!"

Matt stepped to the man's head and started to lift him by the shoulders. As the limp form was slowly raised something dropped out of hip pocket.

"Py chimineddy!" exploded Carl. "Vait a leedle, Matt. See vat iss dis."

Matt waited while Carl stooped and picked up an object that glittered in the sunlight.

"A revolver!" exclaimed Matt

"Yah, so! Der feller vent heeled mit himseluf. Meppy he vas expecding drouble?"

"That may be! or, if he was touring through this part of the country, it would only have been a wise policy to carry arms. Any bullets in the gun, Carl?"

The Dutch boy examined the weapon.

"Dere iss doo empty shells und four goot vones," he announced. "He must haf fired a gouple oof dimes."

"Well, drop the gun in your pocket and let's get him to the car."

Thereupon the unconscious form was picked up and carried out of the thicket and into the road. Close to the car the burden was laid down while the tonneau door was opened.

"After the man fell from the car," said Matt, "he had to drag himself into the bushes."

"Vy vas dot? Oof he hat shtaid in der roadt somepody who vas passing vould haf seen him."

"He may have had his reasons for getting out of sight. Anyhow, the only way for us to get to the bottom of this thing is by taking the man to town and having a doctor look after him."

When Carl had opened the door and thrown the two packages of laundry from the seat into the bottom of the car, the boys picked the man up again and heaved him into the tonneau.

While he was being lifted something else dropped out of his pockets and fell on the foot-board with a muffled thump.

"Iss dot anoder gun?" puffed Carl, who was in the tonneau and fixing the man on the seat.

"Not exactly," answered Matt, taking the object from the running-board and holding it up.

It was a small green bag.

"See vat iss inside alreaty," suggested Carl. "Meppy it vill gif us a line on who der feller iss."

The bag was of heavy silk, and its mouth was closed with a silken cord. To open the bag took only a moment, and Matt thrust in his hand and drew out several small spheres about the size of so many peas. They were dark in color and cast off a lustrous gleam in the sun's rays.

Matt stared at the little objects in amazement.

"Chee grickets!" grunted Carl. "Vy he vas carrying pills in a silk pag? He must be a great feller!"

"Pills!" exclaimed Matt. "You're 'way wide of the mark, Carl. These are not pills, but pearls—black pearls, the rarest gems that come out of the sea. There—there's a fortune in this green bag!"