CHAPTER III.
MATT MAKES AN INVESTMENT.
Murgatroyd, his face distorted with anger and his little eyes snappingviciously, was clutching a slender, middle-aged woman by the arm. Hehad leaped at her, in a burst of rage, overturning the chair, whichhappened to stand in his way.
Matt's unceremonious entrance into the room startled Murgatroyd.Releasing his grasp of Mrs. Traquair's arm, he fell back a step,staring at Matt as though at a ghost.
Mrs. Traquair was so desperate and frightened that she was not nearlyso startled by the lad's spring through the window as was Murgatroyd.From Matt's manner she was not long in realizing that fate had sent hera champion at just the moment when she needed one most. Instinctively,she drew toward the youth, half fearful and half appealing.
"Ah, King!" exclaimed Murgatroyd, struggling to get the whip hand ofhimself. "Rather a peculiar way you have of coming into a house," headded, with some sarcasm.
"It looked as though I was needed," returned Matt grimly.
"You'd better look again. You're not needed. This is a little moneytransaction between Mrs. Traquair and myself. Isn't that so, Mrs.Traquair?" he queried, turning to the woman.
"Y-e-s," answered Mrs. Traquair, her voice so low it was almost awhisper.
"Don't butt in here, King," scowled Murgatroyd. "You hear what the ladysays. This is none of your business."
"That's where I differ from you," said Matt sturdily. "If I'm notmistaken, you were using me as a club to drive Mrs. Traquair intosigning that paper," and he nodded toward a document that was lying onthe table near pen and ink.
"Don't make any misstatements, sir," blustered the broker.
"And don't you," cautioned Matt. "I overheard you tell Mrs. Traquairthat you would have to pay a thousand or two in order to get me to riskmy life flying that a?roplane. As a matter of fact, Mr. Murgatroyd, youdid not offer to pay me a cent. I was to exhibit the machine, then, ifthe government bought it for fifteen thousand dollars, I was to havehalf."
The red ran into Murgatroyd's face.
"How do you know that I was referring to you?" he demanded.
"I know it, and that's enough." Matt picked the paper from the table."I'll just look over this and see----"
"Give that to me!" cried Murgatroyd, stepping toward Matt and making agrab at the document.
Matt jumped back quickly and thrust the paper behind him.
"Mrs. Traquair," said he to the woman, "I want to be a friend of yours.May I read this?"
"So--so far as I am concerned," the woman whispered, with a frightenedlook at the broker.
"By thunder," exploded Murgatroyd, "I'll not stand for this! Give thatup, King, or I'll have the law on you."
"The law won't touch me," said Matt. "This paper was prepared by youfor Mrs. Traquair to sign; as a friend of Mrs. Traquair's I have theright to look the trap over before you spring it."
"Well, of all the impudence---- Say, I wouldn't let you fly thata?roplane for me if it never got a try-out at Fort Totten. I'll be evenwith you for this, my lad! I'll--I'll----"
Murgatroyd choked up with wrath and could not finish. Meanwhile, Matthad glanced at the paper. One glance was sufficient.
"This, Mrs. Traquair," said he, "is a document conveying all yourright, title, and interest in your late husband's a?ronauticalinventions, and in the a?roplane now in the post trader's store at FortTotten, to Amos Murgatroyd. And the consideration is three hundreddollars. You will not sign it, of course?"
"But what am I to do?" faltered the woman hopelessly.
"Whatever you do, Mrs. Traquair, you must not sign away your interestin what may perhaps prove valuable property, for such a small sum."
Then Matt, with steady hands, ripped the document into ribbons.
If Murgatroyd had been angry before, he was fairly beside himself now.
"You--you young scoundrel," he cried, shaking his fist, "I'll teach youto meddle in my business affairs. This isn't the last of this, not by along chalk. I'll have this woman and her brats out in the street beforenight. I'll----"
"You'll keep a respectful tongue between your teeth, that's what you'lldo," and Motor Matt stepped resolutely toward the broker.
There was something in the lad's bearing that caused Murgatroyd to grabhis hat and retreat precipitately to the door.
"You'll hear from me, the pair of you," he snarled, "before you're manyhours older."
Then the door slammed. Through the open window, edged with its tornstreamers of mosquito net, Matt could see the broker hustling throughthe gate. A choking sob struck on the lad's ears, and he whirled tofind Mrs. Traquair in a chair, her face in her hands.
There were ample evidences of poverty in the bare little front room,and the appearance of the woman herself testified eloquently of afierce effort to keep the wolf from the door by grinding toil. Matt'sheart was full of sympathy for her in her trouble.
"Don't take it so hard, Mrs. Traquair," said Matt, stepping to herside. "There may be a way out of this."
She lifted her head.
"No, there is no way out," she answered, in a stifled voice, "you don'tknow Mr. Murgatroyd! You don't know what it means to owe him money andnot be able to pay him even the interest."
"How much do you owe him?"
"Just a thousand dollars."
"But he said the interest due, if I recall his words, was one hundredand fifty dollars."
"That's right--fifteen per cent."
"Fifteen per cent? Great spark-plugs! Why, that's usury."
"Not out here. Harry borrowed the money on our homestead, up in WellsCounty. He needed it to build his a?roplane, and he needed a lot morethat he raised by selling his live stock and farming tools and some ofthe furniture. He thought he'd get everything back when he showed whatthe a?roplane could do, and sold it to the government. But--but thevery machine that was to make our fortune has taken his life, and--andwhat am I to do?"
Mrs. Traquair's face went down into her reddened, toil-worn hands again.
"There may be a way out of this, Mrs. Traquair," said Matt. "It'sclear, I think, that Murgatroyd is a thief and a scoundrel. If hedidn't believe there was merit in your husband's invention he wouldn'tbe trying to get hold of it. Have you any drawings, or papers from thepatent office, that I can look at to get an idea of what the a?roplaneis like?"
"There is a model----"
"Good! A model will do better than anything else."
Mrs. Traquair went into another room and brought out an old "telescope"grip. Unbuckling the straps with fingers that still trembled,she lifted out of the grip and held up for Matt's inspection thebeautifully constructed model of an a?roplane.
Matt sat down in a chair and took the model on his knees. For allof ten minutes he studied the small machine, his eyes glowing withamazement and delight.
"I haven't had much experience with a?roplanes," said Matt finally,lifting his eyes to Mrs. Traquair's, "but I've put in a good deal oftime studying them. I came to Jamestown in the hope that I could makea deal with Murgatroyd and get a little practical work with a realflying machine. When I first met Murgatroyd I didn't understand thecircumstance so well as I do now; and after overhearing what I didwhile standing outside that window, and after inspecting this model,I am more anxious than ever to make an acquaintance with the largermachine at Fort Totten. You haven't signed any papers giving Murgatroyda hold on that machine, have you, Mrs. Traquair?"
"I haven't put my name to anything," declared the woman. "Harry hadarranged for the government test, and had sent the machine to FortTotten before the--the accident. After that, Mr. Murgatroyd came hereand said he would have to take the a?roplane, and get some one to flyit, unless I could pay him the interest money. What could I do?" Thepoor woman made a pathetic gesture with her hands. "There were thefuneral expenses to pay, and I could not even think of paying theinterest. Mr. Murgatroyd said that he would try and find some one whowas fool enough to risk his neck in the a?roplane, and that if he couldfind such a person he would talk
with me again. That was the reason hecame here this morning."
Matt placed the model on the table, and walked thoughtfully up and downthe room.
"There are two or three ideas embodied in this a?roplane, Mrs.Traquair," said he, halting in front of the woman, "that seem to me tobe of immense value. Do you know whether Mr. Traquair protected theideas with patents?"
"Harry said that all his inventions were securely protected. I can findthe papers if you----"
"Your word is enough, for the present. A friend of mine came toJamestown with me, and we have a little money which we would like toinvest. Now, I will make this proposition: If you will give me an orderon the post trader at Fort Totten for the a?roplane, I will go to thefort at once and familiarize myself with the machine; then, when thetime for the government test arrives, I'll put the a?roplane throughits paces. If the try-out is a success, then I and my friend are tohave half of the fifteen thousand dollars to be paid for the machine.I will stand my own expenses, and, in addition, will give you fivehundred dollars. You can take some of this money and pay Murgatroydhis interest; then, if the trial at Totten is a success, you willhave plenty to take up the mortgage. Understand, I am not buying aninterest in the invention--that, I firmly believe, is worth more thanI could pay--but I am buying a half interest in what the government isto hand over, providing the government officials are pleased with theperformance of the a?roplane."
Mrs. Traquair was so overwhelmed she could hardly speak.
"I don't want to rob you," she protested; "I don't want to rob anybody,or----"
Matt interrupted her with a laugh.
"I'm willing to take a chance, Mrs. Traquair," said he. "If you willcome to the Gladstone House at three o'clock this afternoon, we'll havea lawyer draw up the papers, and I'll give you your money. Can I takethat model with me to the hotel? I'm a stranger to you, so I'll leavetwenty dollars in place of the model."
"Who'll I ask for when I come to the hotel?" inquired Mrs. Traquair.
This unexpected stroke of fortune seemed to have dazed her. She hadheard Murgatroyd call Matt by name, but she did not appear to remember.
"Matt King," the young motorist answered.
A cry of astonishment fell from Mrs. Traquair's lips.
"I've heard my husband speak of you dozens of times!" she exclaimed."A friend of his, in Chicago, sent him a newspaper clipping about you.Motor Matt is what you were called in the newspaper article, and youhad a flying machine----"
"A dirigible balloon, Mrs. Traquair," interrupted Matt. "May I take themodel?"
"Yes, yes," answered the woman eagerly, "do whatever you please--I amsure Harry would have it so if he could be here and speak for himself.Heaven is kind to raise me up a friend like you, at such a time."
Hope glowed in Mrs. Traquair's face--for the first time, it may be,since her husband's death--and Matt was happy, for it was a pleasure toknow that he was doing some good in the world while helping himself.
A few minutes later, with the telescope grip in his hand, he left thehouse and made his way swiftly in the direction of the hotel.
Motor Matt on the Wing; or, Flying for Fame and Fortune Page 3
