Motor Matt's Daring; or, True to His Friends
Page 3
CHAPTER II.
UNDERHAND WORK.
That was not the first time Matt King had met Dirk Hawley. The man washighly successful in his nefarious profession, owned a gambling-housein Phoenix, and Matt knew, from personal observation, that he was bothtricky and unscrupulous. During the recent Phoenix-Prescott athleticmeet Hawley had tried to bribe Matt to withdraw from the bicycle-race,and had even gone so far as to have him abducted from Phoenix, inorder to keep him out of it. The gambler, in conjunction with an enemyof Matt's named Dace Perry, had "plunged" heavily on the Prescottcontestant, and only Matt's timely arrival at the track had saved theday for Phoenix.[A]
[A] See MOTOR MATT WEEKLY NO. 1 for an account of Matt's exciting dashof twenty miles from the hills into Phoenix, and his arrival at thetrack in time to race with O'Day, the Prescott champion, and win theprize in the bicycle contest--a seven-horse-power motor-cycle. Thestory was entitled "Motor Matt; or, The King of the Wheel."
Because of all this, there was little love lost between Hawley andMatt. The gambler's face, as he stood on the bridge with one handoutstretched, was full of anger and determination. Matt eyed himcoolly. With a muttered imprecation, Hawley snatched at the letter, butMatt stepped back quickly and thrust the missive behind him.
"What d'you mean?" panted Hawley savagely.
"I mean that this letter isn't yours," replied Matt. "It's addressed tomy chum, Mark McReady."
"Never you mind who it's addressed to. I say it's mine, and that's allyou need to know. Give it here! This ain't the first time your trail'scrossed mine, young feller, an' I'm gittin' mighty tired of havin' youbutt in an' try to give me the double-cross. If you know when you'rewell off you'll mind your own business--if you've got any to mind.Gi'me that, an' no more foolishness!"
Hawley finished with a snap of his big, protruding lower jaw. He was aman accustomed to having his way, and from his manner it was plain thathe intended to have it now. But if he was determined, so was Matt; andthere was a glint in Motor Matt's gray eyes which Hawley would havedone well to heed.
Chub and Penny had approached the bridge from behind the gambler, drawnto the scene by the other's loud voice and blustering manner. Matt'sface was toward the boys, but Hawley had his back to them and did notknow they were so close.
As Hawley made his last fierce demand for the letter, he sprangforward, intending to take it by force if he could not get it in anyother way. Matt, who was watching him warily, leaped back and jerkedhis motor-cycle in front of him. Hawley came into violent collisionwith the hundred-and-fifty-pound machine, barking a shin on one ofthe pedals and getting a sharp dig in the stomach with one of thehandle-bars. Matt hung to the motor-cycle and kept it from going over,for he was not taking any more chances with the _Comet_ than he wasobliged to.
Breathless and fairly boiling with wrath, Hawley fell back.
"Confound you!" he fumed, doubling up with both hands on the pit ofhis stomach, "I'll make you sorry for this! If you don't give me thatletter, I'll----"
"There it goes!" cried Matt, flipping the letter deftly over thegambler's head. "Catch, Chub!" he added. "That's addressed to you, butit dropped out of Hawley's pocket, here on the bridge. Take care of it."
Chub grabbed the letter out of the air.
"You bet I'll take care of it," he answered. "It was dad who scratchedout his own name and wrote mine over it--I can tell his fist as far asI can see it. How in Sam Hill did Hawley happen to have this?"
The gambler turned on Chub with an angry snarl.
"I reckon it is yours," said he, with a puzzling change of tactics thatMatt could not understand, "but that's no reason I should give it up tothat young cub," and he turned to glare at Matt. "The letter came intomy hands by accident, an' I was takin' the trouble to walk out here an'bring it to you when that old freak, Perkins, came within an ace ofrunning me down."
"Why didn't you give it to me, then?" demanded Chub. "You had plentyof chance while Matt was racin' after Welcome an' stoppin' the othermachine."
"How could I give it to you," scowled Hawley, "when it was layin' onthe bridge?"
"You never made a move to take it out of your pocket," scored Chub,"an' you didn't know you'd dropped it on the bridge till you'd turnedaround an' saw Matt pickin' it up."
"Aw, what's the use of chewin' the rag with a lot o' kids, anyhow?"snapped Hawley, whirling around and starting across the bridge towardtown. As he passed Matt he gave him a hostile look. "I've got a bigscore to settle with you, my bantam," he said, between his teeth, "an'you can chalk it up that you're goin' to get all that's comin' beforeI'm done."
Matt did not reply, but returned the gambler's look steadily. Then hewatched him as he limped off down the road.
"Here's a go!" exclaimed Chub, as soon as Hawley was out of ear-shot."He never intended to give me the letter. I'd never have got it ifWelcome hadn't come so near runnin' him down, an' if you hadn'tseen it, Matt, an' got hold of it first. What sort of a game do youcalculate he was tryin' to play?"
"What did he say to you while I was sailing after Welcome?" asked Matt.
"Why, he asked if I had heard anythin' from dad lately--wanted to knowif anythin' had come by wireless from Delray at the Bluebell."
Chub was of an inventive turn, and had constructed a wireless apparatusthat enabled him to communicate with the Bluebell Mine, twenty milesaway in the hills. Delray, the watchman at the Bluebell, was an oldtelegraph-operator, and a good friend of Chub's and Matt's.
"He didn't say anything about having a letter for you?"
"Not a yip. What's he developed such a sudden an' overwhelmin' interestin dad for? Why, he wouldn't even pass the time of day with dad, evenif dad was willin'--which he wouldn't be, not havin' a very highopinion of Hawley anyhow. And yet, here's Dirk Hawley, walkin' 'way outhere to bat up a few questions concernin' dad. But he wasn't intendin'to give me that letter, that's a cinch."
"I'm dashed if I think he was, either," mused Matt. "He made a suddenshift, after I got the letter into your hands, Chub."
"Take it from me," chimed in Penny, "Dirk Hawley's up to some underhandwork. Mebby you two can figure it out, but I've got to be goin'. Hopeold Perk'll get over his mad spell, Chub," he added, with a grin.
"Susie'll smooth him down, Ed," laughed Chub, "but I guess he won't buythat gasoline push-cart of yours for me, now."
"Was Welcome thinking of doing that?" put in Matt.
"That's what he had in his mind, but after that wild ride, and the wayhe felt when he got through with it, I guess that little Reddy McReadywill have to pass up the motor-cycle."
"Well," said Penny, starting off, "a hundred takes 'er, Chub, if thereformed road-agent changes his mind."
When Penny got over the bridge, and had headed for the place where hismotor-cycle had been left, Chub and Matt went on with their talk aboutDirk Hawley and the letter.
"It's the biggest mystery I ever went up against," declared Chub.
"Maybe there's a way you can clear it up," said Matt.
"How?"
"Why, by reading the letter," laughed Matt, "instead of standing thereand bothering your head about it."
"Sure," returned Chub. "That's the one thing to do, and it's the onething I hadn't thought of."
Just as he started to take the letter out of the envelope, a shrillvoice reached the boys from along the road.
"Mark! Come here, Mark--and _hurry_!"
Chub and Matt shifted their gaze to the front of the house. Chub'ssister Susie was standing by the gate and seemed to be considerablyexcited. As she called to her brother, she waved her hands frantically.
"Gee-whiskers!" exclaimed Chub, pushing the letter into his pocket."What's to pay now?"
"Perhaps Welcome refuses to be smoothed down," suggested Matt.
"It's somethin' besides that," declared Chub.
Matt mounted the _Comet_ and kept abreast of Chub as he hurried backtoward the house.
"Come around to the kitchen--quick!" called Susie, retreating hurriedlythrou
gh the gate as the boys came close.
Matt took his machine into the yard and leaned it against the wall.Chub had already followed Susie into the kitchen, and they werestanding in one corner of the room, looking down at the wreck of Chub'swireless apparatus when Matt ran in.
"What d'ye think of that?" wailed Chub, waving his hand toward thesmashed instrument.
"Who did it?" queried Matt.
"I don't know, Matt," answered Susie. "I was in the front part of thehouse when I heard a smash out here in the kitchen. I came as quick asI could, but there was no one here. The kitchen door was open, and Iran and looked out. I heard some one running through the bushes, but Icouldn't see who it was."
It had taken Chub several weeks to get together the materials for thatwireless-telegraph apparatus. Induction coils and batteries he had sentaway for, but all the rest of the material he had picked up here andthere, wherever he could find them. The instruments had been crude, butthey served their purpose and had been the pride of Chub's heart.
As he stared at the wreck, Chub clenched his hands and his lip trembled.
"Too bad, Chub," sympathized Matt. "Have you any idea who could havedone it?"
"This seems to be Dirk Hawley's day for underhand work," muttered Chub.
"But Hawley couldn't have done this--he was hiking for town when ithappened. Still, it may be that he was mixed up in it. Read thatletter, Chub. There's a chance that it may give us a clue to themystery."
Chub dropped into a chair and pulled the letter out of his pocket.