Chapter VIII: Matt Shifts His Plans

Matt, McGlory, and Ping had their supper together. Following supper, Ping went back to the other hotel where he had been staying, for the purpose of getting his luggage. The luggage was not extensive, being completely wrapped in a yellow silk handkerchief, knotted at the corners. There was a pair of grass sandals in the handkerchief bundle, and the Chinaman stood in need of new footgear.

When Ping had gone, Matt and McGlory sat out in front of the hotel, waiting for early bedtime to roll around. While they sat there, a stoop-shouldered, wizened figure shambled along the walk.

"Prebbles!" exclaimed Matt.

"Not so loud," croaked Prebbles. "Come along--drop in behind--don't let anybody notice."

Matt was surprised.

"Who's that?" queried McGlory.

"A clerk in Murgatroyd's office," whispered Matt, getting up.

"Look out for him, then, for he may be----"

"He's all right," cut in Matt. "Come along, Joe. Prebbles has something on his mind."

Deferring to Matt's better judgment, McGlory arose, and he and Matt followed Prebbles around one corner of the hotel, and into the dusky regions that lay in the vicinity of the rear of the building.

Here, in a place where they could talk unheard by outsiders, Prebbles halted.

"What's the matter, Prebbles?" queried Matt, as he and McGlory drew close.

"Who's that with you?" asked Prebbles guardedly.

"A friend of mine."

"Is he the one that hit Siwash Charley with the stone?"

"Yes."

"All right, then. I got to be careful. If I'm not, Murg'll find out about this and pull the pin on me. I get eight dollars a week workin' for him, and I can't afford to lose it. Eight dollars a week pays my board, takes care of my laundry bills, buys a _War Cry_, and gives a little to the army every week. You boys belong?"

"Belong to what, Prebbles?" asked Matt.

"To the Salvation Army," answered Prebbles earnestly.

"No," answered Matt.

"I do. Soon's I leave here, and get my supper, I'm going to the barracks, get into my uniform, take my tambourine and march with the rest. I was converted two weeks ago. That's why I hate Murgatroyd and his ways. He's a robber. I want to do right, and that's why I'm here."

"What do you work for the old skinflint for, if you want to do right?" put in McGlory.

"There's nothing wrong with tainted money," replied Prebbles, "if you use it in the right way."

"I shouldn't think your employer would like to have you in the army," said Matt.

"He likes it. You see, he thinks it gives the office a standing which it hasn't got, me being connected with the army. But little he knows what I'm doing on the side. It's because I belong, Motor Matt, that I spoke to you as I did when you left the office this forenoon; it's because of that, too, that I suspected something was up when Siwash Charley came into the office at close to five o'clock and Murg told me to take my hat and coat and go home; and it's because of that that I'm here, now, to give you a warning."

McGlory gave vent to a low whistle.

"Looks like Siwash and Murg were stackin' up against us, pard," said he.

"Does Siwash Charley know Murgatroyd?" inquired Matt.

"Well, I should say," breathed Prebbles. "Siwash is a hard citizen, and used to live by gambling, stealing, and other ways that the law wouldn't sanction if he was found out. He's a hard case, Siwash is--most as hard a case as Murg. I didn't leave the office when I was told to go. I put on my hat and coat, walked real heavy to the door, slammed it, and then slipped back to a curtain that hides a lot of old letter files. Back of the curtain there's a stovepipe hole from the outside room into Murg's. I climbed up on the letter files and listened at that hole. Wouldn't have done it if I didn't belong. Say," and Prebbles straightened himself with feeble pride, "it makes a regular lion of a man to join the army. You ought to be in; you don't know what you're missin'."

"The army's a good thing, Prebbles," said Matt, "and I'm glad you belong to it. Siwash and Murgatroyd talked about me?"

"Did they?" echoed Prebbles. "Well, they didn't talk about anything else. You see, Murg has got a mortgage on the Traquair homestead, up in Wells County, and he wants to get the quarter section on the mortgage. I don't know why, but he's set, and determined to foreclose and annex the land. That's what he's workin' for. Everything was coming his way, Motor Matt, till you blew in and befriended Mrs. Traquair. Now Murg's afraid you'll win that government money and fix things so'st Mrs. Traquair can pay off the mortgage. Murg's goin' to fight you, and he's rung in Siwash and two of Siwash's friends to help him."

"Speak to me about this!" murmured McGlory. "That hunch of yours, Matt, is panning out good color already."

"How is he going to fight us, Prebbles?" asked Matt.

"By fixing things so'st you can't exhibit the flying machine at the time set. If it ain't exhibited then, the government'll back out. In case Siwash and his pals can't spoil the machine, then their orders are to eliminate Motor Matt. Oh, it's a villainous scheme, I tell you that."

"I guess we can take care of ourselves, Prebbles," averred Matt. "The first train for Totten leaves in the morning, and we're going up on that. Siwash and his pals can't get there ahead of us, and we'll be able to look after the aëroplane and see that nothing goes wrong with it."

"That's where you're lame," fluttered Prebbles. "Siwash and his pals have already started for Totten."

"Started!" exclaimed Matt. "How?"

"Automobile. That gang of scoundrels will get to Totten in time to carry out Murg's villainous plans to-night. I've wasted an hour tellin' you this, waitin' for you to get through supper. You see, I couldn't walk into the hotel and talk to you; everybody would have seen me, and told Murg about it. Then Murg would have pulled the pin on me."

"What are Siwash and his friends going to do at Totten?" queried Matt, more wrought up over the information of Prebbles than he cared to admit.

"I don't know that, Motor Matt. When they talked over that part of it, they dropped their voices so low I couldn't hear. But you can bet it's a slick scheme, if Murg had anything to do with it."

"Sufferin' slow freights!" murmured McGlory. "It looks as though Murg had knocked us out of the running right at the start off."

"Prebbles," said Matt, "do you know of any one, here in town, who has a good automobile we could hire?"

"Well, there's a fellow named Black, a real estate man, who has a car. In spite of his name, he's as white a man as you'll find in a month of Sundays. Real estate's kinder dull, just now, and I know he sometimes lets out his car."

"Where does he live?"

"I pass his place on the way to my boarding house. If you want, I'll have him come around and see you."

"There's not much time to lose, Prebbles, as Siwash and his pals are already on the road. Call me up on the phone and let me know if he'll take us to Fort Totten to-night. If he will, have him hustle his car right around to the hotel."

"He'll ask a heap of money for the trip," suggested Prebbles. "How much are you willing to----"

"Tell him we'll give him fifty dollars if he'll get us to Fort Totten before morning."

"That'll fetch him! I guess I better start right off. You won't tell anybody about me giving Murg away to you? I don't want to have Murg pull the pin, you understand."

"Certainly we won't tell anybody!" answered Matt. "We're obliged to you, Prebbles, and here's a five-dollar bill to pay you for your trouble."

Prebbles drew back from the money.

"You can't make me take that," he declared. "Murg's the only robber in the loan office. I'd be as bad as him if I took the money. I'm doing this because I want to be square. They'd kick me out of the army if I took money for doin' what's right."

"Take this," insisted Matt, "and give it to the mission. You can do that, can't you?"

"Sure." Prebbles pocketed the money. "I'm off, now," he went on, starting away. "I hope you won't have more trouble than you can take care of, but you've got a hard gang against you. Good-by."

"So long, Prebbles."

The clerk vanished, and Matt and McGlory, their nerves tingling with the prospect ahead of them, went back into the hotel, and took chairs near the telephone booth.

Mr. Black himself called up, fifteen minutes later. He was willing to take the boys to Fort Totten that night, for the sum of fifty dollars; his machine was ready, and he'd be at the hotel in five minutes.

"Bully!" exulted McGlory, when Matt came out of the booth and reported what the real estate man had said. "Say, pard," the cowboy added, "you're throwin' your money around like a nabob. At this rate, how long'll that stake last that you picked up in Madison?"

"Till we pull down that government money on account of the aëroplane, Joe," returned Matt decisively.

"You're banking on that?"

"To the last cent. I'll soon be on the wing, Joe, and making a fight for fame and fortune. That's got to be a winning fight, in spite of Siwash Charley and his pals, and in spite of Murgatroyd."

Matt's quiet confidence always inspired confidence in others.

"Whoop!" jubilated McGlory. "You've got a cheery way about you, pard, that's as catchin' as the measles. Sure we'll win; and we'll save the old homestead for Mrs. Traquair like the feller in the play."