Motor Matt; or, The King of the Wheel
Page 3
CHAPTER III.
DACE SHOWS HIS HAND.
"First off, Bricktop," said Matt, after he had taken a comfortable seaton a boulder, "you've got to stop messing around with high explosives.Smokeless powder has been on the market for some time, and you'rewasting your energies."
"Shucks!" grinned Chub, "sis has been talkin' to you. That's what Itold her we were after, but that was only part of it. Perk gave me theidea. If we could take a grain of powder and make it drive a bullet amile, or ten grains and make it drive a bullet ten miles, we'd have thebiggest thing that ever happened. Three men with gatling guns couldkill off an army before it got in sight. It's a whale of a notion!"
"You bet it's a whale," agreed Matt. "You'd have so much power backof that bullet, Chub, it would blow the thing that fired it intosmithereens--and I reckon the three men who were laying for the enemywould go along with the scraps, all right."
"You're a jim-dandy, Matt. Say, I didn't think of that," gasped Chub.
"Well, old chum, sit up and take notice of these things, and you'llsave yourself a lot of trouble. I've been thinking over that wirelessproposition of yours, and I've got a hunch that your ground-wire isn'tanchored right. There's an old wire meat-broiler out back of yourwood-shed--I saw it there the other day when you were poking aroundlooking for scrap-iron. Hitch your ground-wire to the handle and burythe broiler about six feet down; then, if everything is in shape at theBluebell, I'll bet something handsome you get all kinds of sparks."
Chub stared at his chum in open-mouthed admiration.
"You're the wise boy!" he chirped; "if I had your head along with myknack of corralling stuff and getting it together I'd have Edison,Marconi and all that bunch lashed to the mast. King & McReady,Inventions to Order and While You Wait. Oh, gee!"
Carried away by his fancies, Chub lay back on the ground and staredupward into the cottonwood branches above him, dreaming thingsMunchausen would never have dared to mention.
"Come back," said Matt dryly, "come back to earth, Chub. This is apractical old world, and I'm right up against it. That's why I'mthinking of Denver."
Chub sat up in a hurry at that. "Now what are you trying to string meabout Denver for?" he demanded. "What's the matter with Phoenix as aplace to stay? It ain't so wild and woolly as a whole lot of otherplaces in the West and Southwest; but since you arrived here you'vebeen mighty spry about catching on."
"Phoenix is all right," said Matt. "Wherever I hang up my hat"--andjust a shade of wistfulness drifted into his voice as he said it--"ishome for me; but the fact of the matter is, Chub, I've got to knock offschooling and get to work--and I've got to do it _now_."
"You're crazy!" gasped Chub. "Why, you'll graduate in June, and youcan't think of leaving school before that."
"I've got to," returned Matt firmly. "I've been rubbing the lamp toolong for my own good."
"What do you mean by 'rubbing the lamp'?"
"I've got to bat that up to you, Chub, and when I'm done you'll bethe first person I ever told about it. In the first place, I'm astray--what they call a 'maverick' out here on the cattle-ranges.Everybody calls me King, and I came by the name fairly enough, but forall I know Brown, Jones or Robinson would hit me just as close."
"You're King, all right," declared Chub, with a touch of admiration andfeeling, "king of the diamond, the gridiron, the cinder path, the wheeland"--Chub paused "the king of good fellows, with more friends in aminute than I've got in a year."
"And more enemies," added Matt, gripping hard the eager hand Chubreached out to him.
"A chap that don't make enemies is a dub," said Chub. "We've got to behated a little by somebody in order to keep us gingered up. But go on,Matt. I'll turn down the lights and pull out the tremolo-stop while youtell me the history of your past life."
"I'm going to cut it mighty short, Chub," returned Matt, "and justgive you enough of it so you'll understand how I'm fixed. As long as Ican remember, and up to a year ago, I was living with a good old mannamed Jonas King, in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. I called himUncle Jonas, although he told me he wasn't a relative of mine in anyway; that so far as he knew I didn't have any relatives, and that he'dgiven me his name of King as the shortest cut out of a big difficulty.He sent me to school--to a technical school part of the time--butnever breathed a word as to who I was or where I had come from. Whenhe died"--Matt paused and looked toward the canal for a moment--"whenhe died he went suddenly, leaving me by will a fortune of a hundredthousand dollars----"
"Bully for Uncle Jonas!" ejaculated Chub joyously.
"Not so fast, Chub," went on Matt. "A brother of Jonas King's steppedin and broke the will, and I was kicked out without a cent in mypockets. I got a job in a motor factory in Albany, but I hadn't held itdown more than a month before I received a letter enclosing a draft forthree hundred dollars. The letter told me to come to Phoenix, Arizona,go to school, and wait for further word from the writer, which I shouldreceive inside of six months."
Chub's eyes were wide with interest and curiosity.
"That sounds like you'd copped it out of the Arabian Nights, Matt,"said he. "Who sent you that letter? Some uncle in India?"
"It wasn't signed, and the letter was postmarked in San Francisco. Thesix months went by and I never heard anything more; and now it's nearlya year since I reached Phoenix and I'm"--Matt laughed--"well, I'm aboutdead broke, and I've got to get to work."
"Three hundred dollars can't last a fellow forever," commented Chubsagely. "I always knew there was a mystery about you, but I didn'tthink it was anything like that. You don't have to knock off yourschooling now, though. Just come out to our joint and stay with us.It's worth the price just to trail around with Perk. What do you say?"
Chub was enthusiastic. His eyes glowed as he hung breathlessly uponMatt's answer.
"You know I couldn't do that," said Matt. "I've rubbed the lamp forthe last time, and what I get from now on I'm going to _earn_." Heleaned over and laid a hand on his chum's arm. "It isn't that I don'tappreciate your offer, Chub, but a principle is mixed up in this thingand I can't afford to turn my back on it."
Chub was silent for a space. When Matt King used that tone of voice heknew there was no arguing with him.
"You can't break away from Phoenix right away, anyhow," said Chubgloomily. "There's the Phoenix-Prescott athletic meet, and MajorWoolford wants you to champion his club in the bike-race. You'll notturn that down. Why, it means as much as two hundred and fifty dollarsif you win the race--and the try-out's this afternoon."
"I'll not ride in the try-out," answered Matt, "because I can't affordto hang on here until the meet. I've sold my wheel, and riding outhere to see you is the last time I'll use it. With the money I getfor that, and a little I have in my clothes, I can reach Denver andfind something to do among the motors. I'll be at the try-out thisafternoon, but I'm going there to tell the major he'll have to count meout."
Chub picked up a pebble and flipped it disconsolately into the canal."Oh, gee!" he muttered, "this is too blamed bad! Ain't there any wayyou can get around it, Matt, without tramping rough-shod on thatprinciple of yours?"
Before Matt could answer a muffled sound caused him and Chub to lookup. Both were startled and jumped to their feet. Dace Perry and hiscross-country squad were in front of them. There were seven in thelot, and they carried a hostile air that threw Matt and Chub at once ontheir guard.
Matt was quick to comprehend the situation. Perry, full of wrathbecause of the rough treatment young King had given him, had waitedbeyond the bridge for his runners to come up; then, after giving thelads his side of the story, Perry had led them quietly back across thebridge and along the canal to the place where Matt and Chub were havingtheir confidential talk.
There were only one or two boys in the squad who were not completelydominated by Perry. One of these was Ambrose Tuohy, a lengthy youth,who rejoiced in the nickname of "Splinters," and Tom Clipperton,a quarter-blood Indian, and the best long-distance runner in theschool. Clipperton was sh
unned by most of the students on account ofhis blood--a proceeding he felt keenly, and which made him moody andreserved, although sometimes stirring him into violent fits of temper.Clipperton had never given Matt a chance either to like or dislike him.With his black eyes narrowed threateningly, Clipperton stood besideDace Perry as the seven boys faced Matt and Chub.
Chub had not heard about the affair that had taken place at the gate,and naturally could not understand the hostility evinced by Perry andhis squad; but the evidences of enmity was too plain to be mistaken,and when Chub got up he had a stone hidden in his fist.
"Surprised, eh?" sneered Perry, advancing a step toward Matt. "I neverforget my debts, King, and right here and now is where I settle thescore I owe you. I tipped off my hand at the gate, and here's where I'mgoing to show it."