CHAPTER V.
A STARTLING PLAN.
"What's up, Matt?" asked Cameron. "You've been sending telegrams fromthe post, and here's an answer to one of them."
Matt repeated Hackberry's story, then showed the lieutenant the raggednote and the letter.
"It's a fishy yarn," mused Cameron. "For a clever man of business, likeMurgatroyd, to extort a quitclaim deed from a woman in that way is rankfoolishness, say nothing of the criminal part of it, which is very aptto get the scoundrel into trouble. No, I can't believe Murgatroyd woulddo such a thing. Who is this fellow Hackberry?"
"He says he has a claim joining Traquair's on the----"
"Yes, I know what he says, but where is the proof that what he says istrue? This villain, Siwash Charley, is a bitter enemy of yours, Matt,and he isn't likely to stop at anything."
Matt told Cameron of the messages sent to Mrs. Traquair and to Matthews.
"I haven't heard from Mrs. Traquair," he finished, "but here's themessage from Matthews."
Cameron read it over, his brow clouding.
"Do you know Matthews very well, Matt?" he inquired.
"Yes. He's a friend of Mrs. Traquair's and no friend of Murgatroyd's."
"Then his word, in this matter, ought to be as good as his bond. But,how in Heaven's name, was it possible for Mrs. Traquair to let herselfbe spirited away?"
"Murgatroyd is a loan shark," explained Matt, "and he is full ofplausible tricks. He's not in Jamestown, and Mrs. Traquair isn't there.Hackberry's story, hard as it is to believe, in some respects, isbeginning to prove itself."
"I don't like it, anyhow," and Cameron shook his head forebodingly.
"That's the way I stack up," declared McGlory. "I've got a hunch thatthere's a screw loose in all this crossfire of talk and letters--talkthrough knot holes and letters pushed through the walls of houses.Rot!" he grunted disgustedly.
"Maybe there's nothing in Hackberry's yarn," said Matt decisively, "butI can't turn my back on it. If Mrs. Traquair is in trouble, I must dowhat I can to help her out."
"Sufferin' brain twisters!" cried McGlory. "Why didn't she letHackberry bring the deputy sheriff from Sykestown? But, no. She had tosend Hackberry over here, using up two valuable days, just to get you."
"Murgatroyd might have spies in Sykestown watching the deputy sheriff,"replied Matt. "It would be easy for the spy to carry a warning to theTraquair homestead and have the man in charge of the shack remove Mrs.Traquair to some other place."
"Gammon!" snorted McGlory. "Somebody's playin' lame duck, you hear me."
Cameron brightened suddenly.
"You got a letter from Mrs. Traquair the other day, didn't you, Matt?"he asked.
"That was a week ago," answered Matt.
"How does the handwriting compare? Is it the same in the letter as itis in these two scraps brought in by Hackberry?"
Matt rummaged through his satchel and brought out Mrs. Traquair'sletter. Then they all, even Ping, began comparing the writing.
"I give up," said Cameron. "The writing's the same. Suppose we takethe train for Sykestown to-morrow, Matt, and go to the rescue of Mrs.Traquair?"
"There's no train out of Carrington until day after to-morrow," saidMatt.
"Let's get a hand car, or one of these gasoline speeders, and go overthe branch to Sykestown," suggested McGlory.
Matt's eyes sparkled at mention of the gasoline speeder, for as yet hehad had no experience with one of them.
"We wouldn't be liable to find such a thing as a 'speeder' in a smallplace like Carrington," said he.
"Then we'll get an automobile from Devil's Lake City," put in Cameron."By Jupiter, Matt, I'm pretty nearly as warm about this business as youare. An automobile, that's the thing!"
"It might be hard to get one," continued Matt. "You fellows can come inan automobile, but I think I'll go by air line."
"Air line?" echoed the lieutenant, puzzled.
"Yes," was the quiet reply. "Two hours' work will finish the a?roplane,and----"
"Great Scott!" exclaimed the lieutenant, aghast; "it's a new anduntried machine. You don't know whether it will fly or not."
"If it won't fly, then the government won't buy it, and it will be agood thing for us to know that as soon as possible. But it will fly,Cameron."
"But, listen," proceeded Cameron gravely. "You're proposing atwo-hundred-mile flight, straight away--something unheard of in the useof a?roplanes. Heavier-than-air machines have only been tried over aprescribed course, up to now--from the starting point, through the air,and then back to the starting point again. This plan of yours, Matt,looks like madness to me."
"It would be a fine introduction of the machine to the tests at FortMyer if it could be said that the a?roplane sailed for two hundredmiles over a straight-away course!"
Matt's face glowed at the thought. To do something different, somethingdaring that would advance the science of aviation, _that_ wouldcertainly be worth while.
"Besides this," pursued Matt earnestly, "I'll have an advantage overMurgatroyd and his villainous helpers. They will not be expecting arescue through the air, while they may be prepared to ward off oneby automobile. It is not impossible," he finished, with a trace ofenthusiasm, "that I may be able to pick Mrs. Traquair up and bring herto Fort Totten in the a?roplane. Think of that! She would be rescued byher husband's invention."
"You wouldn't get her to ride in that a?roplane in a thousand years,"declared McGlory. "She's scared of it, and has been even before herhusband was killed. Shucks! Give it up pard, and go with us in theautomobile."
Matt shook his head.
"I'm going in the machine," he answered. "You fellows can follow in theautomobile."
"Follow! Speak to me about that. Why, pard, if the automobile is anygood at all we'll lead you all the way to Wells County."
"Not if there's no wind, or only a very little. I figure that the newa?roplane can do better than sixty miles an hour. But let's get busy,Joe; there's more work to be done."
Cameron left at once to go across the lake and secure an automobile,Ping proceeded to get supper, and Matt and McGlory put their finishingtouches on the a?roplane's motor.
"Here's a thing you haven't thought of, pard," remarked McGlory, whenthe last bolt had been tightened, "and that's about sending thismachine to Washington. If anything happens to it, or if you're delayedin Wells County, there's fifteen thousand gone up the spout."
"The money is not to be considered if there's a chance of helping Mrs.Traquair," returned Matt.
But the possibility opened up by McGlory filled the king of the motorboys with regret. He had set his heart on building the new a?roplane,putting it to the test and then selling it to the government just as hehad sold the first one. This particular machine was the work of his ownhands, while the other had been Traquair's. He was proud of it, and itstruck a pang to his heart to think there was even a bare chance of hisnot being able to turn the machine over to the government, now that itwas built. However, he put his regret resolutely behind him.
"I'm not looking for a reverse, Joe," said he, "at this stage of thegame. Luck's been on my side for quite a while, and I don't believe itwill go back on me. I have yet to be caught in a losing cause--and thiswon't be a losing cause if we can find and rescue Mrs. Traquair."
At that moment Ping showed himself around the lower end of the tent andshouted, in his high cackle, "Suppa' leddy!"
The boys ate supper. There was not much talk during the meal, for allwere thoughtful, and McGlory, at least, was troubled with forebodings.
The meal over, Matt and McGlory tried the motor. It failed to workas it should, and Matt kept at it until it was going properly. Then,cautiously, he turned the power into the propeller. The machine,when started according to custom, got its initial impetus by havingthe power applied to a set of bicycle wheels. The blades of thepropeller, slapping the air, however, developed a force that startedthe a?roplane, and Matt had to shut off the power in a hurry.
"Sufferin
' race horses!" murmured the astonished McGlory. "Who everheard of the like of that?"
"Mr. Maxim discovered it first," replied Matt. "Why, he drove a boatthrough the water, at the rate of six miles an hour, merely by having apropeller turn in the air! But let's go to bed; we've a lot on hand forto-morrow."
If the intrepid king of the motor boys had only guessed what waswaiting for him in Wells County, his sleep would probably not have beenso sound or so peaceful as it was.
Motor Matt's Reverse; or, Caught in a Losing Cause Page 5