Motor Matt's Make-and-Break; or, Advancing the Spark of Friendship

by Stanley R. Matthews

  CHAPTER VIII.

  FOOLING THE COWBOYS.

  "If you're bound to make Motor Matt take you to the ranch, Spearman,"said McGlory, "that means that the chink and me'll have to wait heretill you get back."

  "Which is what I was expectin'," answered Spearman. "I don't want terfeel cramped in that thar machine."

  "The rest of you will have to give the machine a start down the hill,"went on McGlory innocently. "When the craft gets a start, and is in theair, you'll have to watch your chance, Spearman, and jump aboard."

  "Jump on when she's goin' sixty miles an hour?" howled Spearman. "Say,what d'ye think my scalp's wuth?"

  "It won't be going sixty miles an hour," parried McGlory.

  Matt had already taken his seat in the _Comet_.

  "Why kain't I git in thar with him," asked Spearman, "an' travel withthe machine right from the start?"

  "Sufferin' centipedes!" exclaimed McGlory, in well-feigned disgust."Say, I reckon you don't savvy a whole lot about flyin' machines. She'sgot to have a runnin' start, as light as possible; then, when shebegins to skyhoot, you climb aboard. I guess you don't _want_ to take atrip aloft."

  "Guess again," cried Spearman. "I kin jump some, if it comes ter that,only"--and here he turned to Matt, who was quietly waiting--"fly lowan' slow."

  "All of you have got to help," proceeded Matt's cowboy pard briskly."Lay your guns away, somewhere, so you can give both hands to yourwork."

  None of the cowboys had six-shooters, but all were armed with rifles.This was rather odd, but, nevertheless, a fact. When they startedout after George Hobbes, the Tin Cup men had been counting on targetpractice at long range.

  The horses had already been bunched with their heads together. Four ofthe cowboys, who were still holding their rifles, stepped hilariouslyover to where Slim and Spearman had deposited their guns, and droppedtheir weapons.

  McGlory gave Ping a significant look. The young Chinaman stared blanklyfor a moment, and then a complacent grin settled over his yellow face.He was as sharp as a steel trap when it came to understanding guilefulthings. Ping knew what was expected of him, and he was ready.

  The _Comet_ was headed down the western slope of the hill. Four ofthe cowboys placed themselves at the lower wings, two on each side,ready to run with the machine when they received the word. Spearman,in his shirt sleeves, was tying one end of a riata to the timber whichpassengers in the a?roplane used as a footrest.

  "What are you doing that for?" demanded Matt.

  Spearman straightened up with a wink.

  "Waal, it's fer two things, pilgrim," he answered jocosely. "Fust off,by hangin' ter the rope, Slim an' me kin pull while the rest o' theboys push. Then, ag'in, if ye've got any little trick up yer sleeve,I'll have a line on yer ole sky sailer an' ye kain't leave me behind,not noways."

  That rope troubled Matt, but he could voice no reasonable objection toit. Already McGlory had played on the credulity of the punchers to thelimit, and it was not safe to go much farther.

  "I'm goin' ter have yer job, Jed," rallied one of the cowboys, "if yefall outen the machine an' bust yer neck."

  "Don't ye take my job till I'm planted, Hen, that's all," grinned theforeman. "I been wantin' a new sensation fer quite a spell, an' I guesshere's the place whar I connect with it."

  If the plans of Matt and his friends worked out successfully, JedSpearman was to "connect with a sensation" vastly different from whathe was expecting. McGlory was chuckling to himself over the prospect.

  The cowboys, in their uproarious mood, did not seem to notice thatneither McGlory nor Ping were helping to give the a?roplane a runningstart down the hill.

  "Ye'll be a reg'lar human skyrocket, Jed," remarked Slim, "if ye travelat the rate o' sixty miles an hour."

  "I'll be goin' some, an' that's shore," answered the foreman. "Wonderwhat folks'll invent next? Say, thar! If ye're ready, let's start."

  Matt started the motor. This evidence of power rather awed the cowboys,and their grins faded as they watched and listened.

  "Now," instructed Matt, "the minute I turn the power into the bicyclewheels, you fellows begin to run the machine downhill."

  "Let 'er go!" came the whooping chorus.

  Jed Spearman and Slim, tailed on to a forty-foot riata, were sometwenty feet ahead of the a?roplane.

  "Now!" cried Matt.

  The bicycle wheels began to take the push, and the _Comet_ started downthe slope, the two cowboys ahead pulling, and the four at the wingspushing.

  Naturally, the descent aided the motor. There had not been as muchrain, in that part of the State, as there had been in the Devil'sLake country, and the turf was fairly dry and afforded tolerably goodwheeling.

  The cowboys roared with delight as they ran awkwardly in theirtight, high-heeled boots. What happened was only natural, in thecircumstances, although quite unexpected to the ignorant cattlemen.

  In less than fifty feet the a?roplane was going too fast for therunners. The four at the wings had to let go; and the two at the rope,finding themselves in imminent danger of being run over, dropped therope and leaped to one side.

  All six of the cowboys watched while the _Comet_, catching the airunder her outspread pinions, mounted gracefully--and then continued tomount, the riata trailing beneath.

  "He ain't comin' back fer ye, Jed!" howled Slim.

  "Here, you!" bellowed the foreman. "Whar ye goin'? What kinder way isthat ter treat a feller? Come back, or I'll send a bullet arter ye!"

  Matt paid no attention. He was following, to the very letter, the planMcGlory had formed, and was rushing at speed in the direction of theMissouri and the mouth of Burnt Creek.

  "Git yer guns!" cried the wrathful Spearman. "Shoot him up!"

  It is doubtful whether the cowboys would have been able to retracetheir way up the hill and secure their guns before Matt had got out ofrange. But they had not a chance to put their purpose to the test, forthe contingency had been guarded against.

  When the cowboys reached the top of the hill, Ping was at the foot ofit on the eastern side, traveling as fast as his legs could carry him;and clasped in his arms were the six rifles!

  "Blazes ter blazes an' all hands round!" fumed the enraged Jed. "Thechink's runnin' off with the guns so'st we kain't shoot. Hosses, boys!Capter the little heathen!"

  And here, again, were the cowboys doomed to disappointment. Well beyondthe foot of the hill, on the south side, was McGlory. He was riding onehorse and leading the other five bronchos.

  "Done!" gasped Slim, pulling off his Stetson and slamming it on theground, "done ter a turn! Who'd 'a' thort it possible?"

  "It was a frame-up!" raged the foreman. "The two of 'em hatched theplan while they were talkin'. I was a fool ter let 'em palaver likewhat they done, kase I mout hev knowed they was up ter somethin'. Thechink lifted the guns on us, an' t'other feller lifted the hosses so'stwe couldn't ketch the chink; an', as for _him_," and Jed Spearmanturned and looked westward to where the a?roplane was a mere speckin the sky, "as fer him, I say, if that flyin' machine ever comescrowhoppin' eround whar I am, I'll shore put it out o' bizness!"

  "An' ye didn't fly, arter all!" bubbled Slim.

  "You hesh," grunted Spearman, "or thar'll be fireworks."

  "Ye're purty good at jumpin'," jeered another, "so why don't ye jumpaboard? I don't reckon she's more'n two mile off an' a mile high."

  "Oh," fretted the foreman, "if I _only_ had a gun! Say, let up er I'lluse my hands."

  "An' we had to push," scoffed Slim; "oh, yas, _indeed_! We had tergit off'n our hosses, an' put down our guns, an' push. Never reckonednothin', did we? Never a thing. But they knowed, them fellers did--theyknowed ev'ry minit jest what they was about. Next time I fool with thishere Motor Matt an' his flyin' machine, ye'll know it."

  "An' Jed had a string on her," mourned another. "Sure he did. Why,Jed had his rope fast to her so'st ter hang on in case Motor Matt hadanythin' up his sleeve. Well, well! I wonder----"

  But Spearman could stand no mo
re. With a fierce whoop, he rushed downthe hill along the path taken by the Chinaman. Across, on an oppositeuplift, Ping could be seen. He was adding insult to injury by hoppingup and down and making derisive gestures with one hand.

  "We got ter overhaul the chink an' git back them guns," shouted Slim."Come on, boys!"

  The remaining five started after Spearman. Ping, observing the pursuit,hopped out of sight over the top of the hill. Burdened as he was, hecould not hope to escape the pursuing cowboys. But he had faith inMcGlory--and McGlory did not fail him.

  When the cowboys reached the top of the next hill, they could lookdown and see McGlory and the six horses. Ping was mounting one of theanimals, and when he and McGlory vanished around the base of anothercoteau--which they were not slow in doing--they took the rifles withthem.

  The cowboys had to pursue, and they had to do their pursuing on foot.If a cattleman hates one thing more than another it is walking, andthe six disgruntled Tin Cup men limped and staggered and toiled onwardthrough the coteaus, following the trail for at least four miles. Whenthey finally ran it out, they found their horses and their guns, butMcGlory and Ping were conspicuous by their absence.