Chapter XVI: The Rajah's Niece

The events of that wonderful day all seemed like a dream to Motor Matt when he came to look back on them. The coming of Carl, loaded with a joke sprung upon him by the detectives in Chicago--a joke, by the way, that proved a boomerang--and the dangers and perils that trailed after the Dutch boy and finally ended in most marvelous success--all these seemed but the figments of disordered fancy.

But the damaged aëroplane remained to tell of the dangers, and Carl was there in the flesh, and Margaret Manners was present, freed of the evil shadow that had blighted her young life.

The afternoon performance had been over for some time when Matt, Joe, Carl, and Margaret--for now she must be Margaret and not Haidee--returned to the show grounds.

The owner of the motor car was walking up and down in fretful mood, thinking, perhaps, that he had done a most unwise thing in letting his machine get out of his hands.

Burton was with him and seeking to pacify his fears. But the sight of the motor car alone did that.

"Well," exclaimed Burton, "you've got one of 'em, Matt. She is the most valuable of the lot, to me. Where are the other two?"

"They escaped," answered Matt shortly. "And Haidee, Mr. Burton, is no longer an employee of the Big Consolidated."

"What!" cried Burton. "Do you mean to say she isn't going up on the aëroplane any more, and that she'll not touch off Roman candles or----"

"I told you she'd never do that, some time ago," said Matt keenly.

Burton seemed to have a way of forgetting the things he did not want to hear.

"Well, anyhow," went on the showman, as soon as they had all alighted, and the owner of the car had got into it and tooted joyfully away, "come to the mess tent and tell me what happened."

"Haven't time, Burton," said Matt. "Miss Manners is going to the best hotel in town, and I've got some telegrams to send."

"Telegrams?" Burton pricked up his ears and showed signs of excitement. "There isn't another show trying to hire you away from me, is there? Don't forget your written contract, Matt!"

"I'm not forgetting that," returned Matt, inclined to laugh. "The telegram I am going to send is to the British ambassador at Washington, and the cablegram I am going to get on the wires is to an attorney in London, England."

"Jupiter!" exclaimed Burton. "It looks to me as though you wouldn't get through in time to go on with section two of the show train."

"We won't," continued Matt, "and that's what I'm going to tell you about. We'll be a couple of days making repairs on the aëroplane, and we'll make them here. After the work is done, we'll join the Big Consolidated at the town where it happens to be at that time."

"Your contract, sir!" fumed Burton. "You are----"

"No repairs on the aëroplane would have been necessary," interrupted Motor Matt, "if you had not played that trick on me and substituted Haidee for Le Bon. Just remember that. I shall expect you to pay the bills for the repairs, too."

Burton received these remarks in silence.

"When I and my friends are ready to join you," went on the king of the motor boys, "we'll go by air line in the _Comet_, and if you have any good paper, we'll scatter it all along the route. It will be the biggest kind of an advertisement for you, Burton."

This was a master stroke, if Burton yearned for one thing more than another, it was to make his name a household word.

"Great!" he cried. "But you won't be more than two days here, will you, Matt?"

"We'll try not to be."

"And you'll scatter the paper?"

"Certainly."

"Fine! I'll have it for you. Where'll I send it?"

"To the Bramble House."

"It will be there. Make the bill for repairs as light as possible, and draw on me for the amount. That's fair, ain't it?"

"Just about."

"Ask anybody and they'll tell you Boss Burton is the soul of honesty, and that every promise he makes in his paper is carried out to the letter. What will you do with the aëroplane?"

"McGlory and Ping will look after it to-night. Tomorrow they will have it removed to some place where we can work on it comfortably."

"All right--have it your way. I'm the easiest fellow to get along with that you ever saw, when I see a chap is going to treat me square. Good luck to you--to all of you."

The party separated. McGlory went over into the show grounds to join Ping at the aëroplane, and Matt and Carl escorted Miss Manners to the Bramble House. Carl went to the show, when the tents were being pulled down that night, and got Miss Manners' trunk and his own clothes from the calliope tent. Carl, it will be recalled, was wearing McGlory's work clothes, and McGlory was going to need them.

Most of the luggage belonging to Matt and his friend went on by train with the show impedimenta, to be reclaimed at some town farther along the route.

Matt sent his telegram and his cablegram, and in neither did he conceal the fact that all the glory of the achievement belonged to Carl Pretzel.

The Dutch boy was terribly set up over his success. Until far into the night he kept Matt up, trying to find out what he should do with his five thousand dollars. Carl was about evenly divided, in his opinions, as to whether he should buy an aëroplane of his own, or a circus. Matt discouraged him on both points.

Next morning the _Comet_, under its own power, dragged its battered pinions to a big blacksmith shop, and there the motor boys got actively to work on the repairs.

The damage was confined almost entirely to the canvas covering the left wing. None of the supports were injured.

In two days' time the aëroplane was as good as new. At the close of the second day, when Matt and McGlory reached the hotel with their work finished, so far as the _Comet_ was concerned, they found an English gentleman who represented the British embassy.

This gentleman had come, personally, to assume charge of Miss Manners; and, by this very act, the boys understood that the young woman was something of a personage.

The Englishman said nothing about the reward, and Carl began to worry. Finally he broached the subject himself, only to learn that the five thousand dollars must come from India, and that it would be a month, possibly two months, before it could be turned over.

Carl was disgusted. He had expected to have the money all spent before two months had passed.

"Dot's der vay mit der tedectif pitzness," he remarked gloomily. "Even ven you vin you don't get nodding."

"But you're bound to get it, Carl," laughed McGlory, "sooner or later."

"Meppy so mooch lader dot I vill be olt und gray-heated und not know nodding aboudt how to shpend him. How vas I going to lif in der meandime, huh? Tell me dose."

"Come along with us," said Matt, "and stay with the Big Consolidated until your money comes."

"I don'd like dot Purton feller," growled Carl. "He iss der vorst case oof stingy vat I efer see. Shdill, id iss vort' someding to be mit Modor Matt. Yah, so helup me, I vill go."

Ping was not in love with this arrangement, but had to bow to it.

The gentleman from Washington took the next train back to the capital, arranging to have Miss Manners left in the care of an estimable lady in Lafayette until word should come from India.

THE END.

THE NEXT NUMBER (28) WILL CONTAIN

Motor Matt's "Short Circuit"

OR,

THE MAHOUT'S VOW.

The Serpent Charmer--A Bad Elephant--Burton's Luck--Motor Matt's
Courage--Dhondaram's Excuse--Robbery--Between the Wagons--A Peg to
Hang Suspicions On--A Waiting Game--A Trick at the Start--In the Air
With a Cobra--A Scientific Fact--Ping On the Wrong Track--Facing a
Traitor--Meeting the Hindoo--A Bit of a Backset

MOTOR STORIES

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SAVED BY A FALLING TREE.

Winter still reigned, and Louis and Allen Wright were snowshoeing back to the lumber camp where they worked.

It was a small camp upon the Tobago River, near the Ottawa, close to the border between the Provinces of Ontario and Quebec, and the pine had for the most part been cut long ago. There was a little pine left, however, with a good deal of pulp wood and mixed timber to be got out, and the foreman had sent the boys to look over a patch of spruce about twelve miles from the shanty. They were returning with their axes upon the frozen Tobago River, which formed a convenient roadway through the tangled and snowy Canadian forest.

The boys were not professional "lumber jacks," but they were both deeply desirous of acquiring a couple of hundred dollars to cover the expenses of a course in mining engineering, and that winter high wages were being offered for even inexperienced men in the lumber camps.

As they were country-bred youths, they took to the work naturally, and Allen, although he had not yet come to his full strength, speedily developed a surprising dexterity with the axe. He could "lay" a tree within a few inches of where he desired it to fall, and had been the instrument of victory several times in lumbering matches with rival camps.

It was late in February and still bitterly cold, but the deep snow was packing and softening. In a few weeks the ice might break up, and mountains of logs were piled upon the river in readiness for the drive.

About three miles before it reached the shanty the river broke into rapids for about thirty rods before it fell tumultuously over a low ridge of rocks.

It was necessary to make a detour round this obstacle, and Allen went ashore at a cautious distance from the water. Louis, however, remained upon the ice, walking almost to the verge, and looking over into the inky stream.

"Be careful, Lou! That ice is getting rotten!" Allen shouted from the bank.

"It's as strong as rock. Look!" answered Louis, jumping in his rackets with a heavy thud upon the snow.

He proved the reverse of what he intended. There was a dull cracking under the snow and a startled shout from the reckless snowshoer. A great cake of ice broke off, drifting away, with Louis standing on it. He balanced unsteadily for a moment, staggered, and plunged off with a terrified yell, going clean out of sight under the icy water.

The cake of ice drifted over the rapids and broke up. Allen had scarcely time to move before his brother reappeared, struggling feebly, and evidently almost paralyzed by the cold immersion. By good luck he managed to catch the top of a projecting rock at the head of the fall, and there he clung, driven against the rock by the force of the current.

"Hold on a minute, Lou! I'll get you out!" screamed Allen frantically. Louis turned a blue face toward him, without answering.

Allen tore and kicked off his snowshoes, and was on the point of plunging into the water; but common sense returned to him in time. Louis was in the middle of the stream, thirty feet away. Allen could never reach him through that swift, deep current, and if he could, he would be so chilled as to be incapable of giving any sort of help.

But the boy certainly could not hold on long in his present position, and should he let go he would be swept over the rapids and under the ice at the foot. His life hung on seconds.

Allen could think of no plan. He shouted encouraging words without knowing what he said, while his eyes roved desperately up and down the snowy shores in search of some inspiration.

If he had only a rope, or anything to make a bridge--and then his eye fell upon a tall, dead pine "stub," barkless and almost branchless, standing a few feet back from the stream.

It was long enough to reach to the imperiled youth, if it could be felled so accurately as to lie close beside him. But a foot or two above or below him would make it useless, and to aim too closely would be to run a deadly risk of crushing the boy under the falling trunk.

By a queer vagary of his excited brain he remembered William Tell and the apple. He would have to perform a somewhat similar feat of marksmanship; but it was the only chance that he could think of. He plunged through the snow for his axe, wallowed back to the dead stub, and began to chop.

In the need for action his nerves grew suddenly cool. The feat was a more delicate one than he had ever attempted, and his brother's life hung upon his steadiness of nerve and muscle. But he cut quietly and without haste. The great yellow chips flew, and a wide notch grew in the trunk.

In a few moments he shifted to the other side, cut another notch, and sighted for the probable direction of the fall of the stub. He could not tell how the roots held. He would have to leave that important factor to chance, but he cut, now delicately, now strongly, till the tremor through the axe handle told that the trunk was growing unsteady.

It was a critical moment. He sighted again most carefully, and cut out a few small chips here and there. The stub tottered. It was standing poised upon a thin edge of uncut wood, and he stood behind it and pushed, cautiously, and then heavily.

The tall trunk wavered, and the fibres snapped loudly. It hesitated, bowed, and Allen leaped away from the butt. Down came the pine, roaring through the air.

It crashed into the water with a mighty wave and splash that hid boy and rock. Allen had a moment of horrified belief that his brother had been crushed under it. A moment later he saw that Louis was unhurt. But the tree had actually grazed the rock. It had fallen within eight inches of the boy's body.

It made a perfect bridge as it lay, but in his nervous reaction Allen was almost too shaky to walk the trunk and pull his brother out. He did it, although how he got him to land he never quite knew. Louis was almost unconscious, and his wet clothes froze instantly into a mass of ice.

He would certainly have lapsed into sleep and died, but Allen piled the pine chips about the stump and had a fire blazing in a few seconds. The dry stump burned like pitch, producing a furnace-like heat; and Allen partly undressed his brother and rubbed him hard with snow. Under this heroic treatment Louis came back to painful consciousness, and the fierce heat from the pine did the rest. But it was several hours before he was able to resume the tramp, and it was dark when they reached the shanty.

How They Captured the Python.

Hamburg, as many know, is the great headquarters of the trade in wild animals for menageries and "zoos." To Hamburg are shipped lions, elephants, and giraffes, captured in South and East Africa, tigers from India, jaguars and tapirs from South America, gorillas from the Congo, orang-outangs from Borneo, and, in fact, about every kind of beast, bird, and reptile from all quarters of the globe.

The warehouses of the two principal firms engaged in this business are interesting places to visit after the arrival of a "beast ship," with news of unusually large specimens of animal life.

The narrator made such a visit some months ago on the arrival of a remarkably large, brilliantly marked python, shipped from Padang, Sumatra. This colubrine giant is more than thirty feet in length, and was bespoken by the Austrian government for a zoo at Budapest.

But the story of its capture is even more interesting than the huge creature itself, for this python had fallen a victim to its fondness for the notes of a violin.

There is a telegraph line extending across Sumatra, from Padang, connecting that port, by means of submarine cables, with Batavia, and Singapore.

Along this line of land wire are a number of interior stations. One of these, called Pali-lo-pom, has been in charge of an operator named Carlos Gambrino, a mestizo from Batavia, Java, educated at the industrial school there.

The station is on a hillock in the valley of the River Kampar, and is adjacent to dense forest, jungle, and a long morass. It is a solitary little place, consisting merely of four or five thatched huts, elevated on posts to a height of six feet from the ground, to be more secure from noxious insects, reptiles, and wild beasts.

As a general rule Gambrino has little enough to do, except listen to the monotonous ticking of the instrument. For solace and company, therefore, he frequently had recourse to his violin.

Thatched houses on posts in Sumatra are not commonly supplied with glass windows; but Gambrino had afforded himself the luxury of a two-pane sash, set to slide in an aperture in the side wall of his hut, and some five or six months ago, during the wet season, he was sitting at this window one afternoon, as he played his violin, when he saw the head of a large serpent rise out of the high grass, at a distance of seventy or eighty yards.

His first impulse was to get his carbine and try to shoot the monster, for he saw that it was a very large python, and not a desirable neighbor. But something in the attitude of the reptile led him to surmise that it had raised itself to hear the violin, and he passed at once to a lively air.

As long as he continued playing the python remained there, apparently motionless; but when he ceased it drew its head down, and he saw nothing more of it that day, although he went out with his gun to look for it.

Nearly a fortnight passed, and the incident had gone from his mind--for large snakes are not uncommon in Sumatra--when one night, as he was playing the violin to some native acquaintances who had come to the hut, they heard the sounds made by a large snake sliding across the bamboo platform or floor of the little veranda. On looking out with a light, one of the party saw a huge mottled python gliding away.

But it was not until the reptile appeared a third time, raising its head near his window, that the telegrapher became certain that it was really his violin which attracted it.

In the meantime the operator at Padang, with whom Gambrino held daily conversations by wire, had told him that the German agent of a Hamburg house at that port would pay ten pounds, English money, for such a python as he described.

Gambrino began scheming to capture the reptile. In one of the huts at the station there was stored a quantity of fibre rope, such as is used in Sumatra for bridging small rivers and ravines.

Gambrino contrived three large nooses from this rope, which he elevated horizontally, on bamboo poles, to the height of his window, and carried the drawing ends of the nooses inside the hut.

This was done after the operator had ascertained that at times the snake would come about the house and raise its head as if it heard the violin.

Some time later the python was beguiled by the music into raising its head inside one of the nooses, which a native, who was on the watch while Gambrino played, instantly jerked tight.

What followed was exciting. The reptile resented the trick with vigor, and showed itself possessed of far more strength than they had expected.

The rope had been made fast to a beam inside, and the snake nearly pulled the entire structure down, making it rock and creak in a way that caused Gambrino and his native ally to leap to the ground in haste from a back entrance. The reptile coiled its body about the posts and pulled desperately to break away. Altogether, it was a wild night at this little remote telegraph station.

The next morning a crowd of natives collected; and as the python had by this time exhausted itself, they contrived to hoist its head as high as the roof of the hut and to secure its tail.

It was then lowered into a molasses hogshead, which was covered over and trussed up securely with ropes.

In this condition the python was drawn to Padang on a bullock cart. It is said to weigh more than four hundred pounds.

ON THE ROAD TO MANDALAY.

All of us who were singing "On the Road to Mandalay" a few years ago--and there were mighty few of us who let it alone vocally--will be a bit surprised to be informed that Rangoon, where the dawn comes up like thunder and other interesting things happen, looks to the approaching tourist like an up-to-date American business centre.

In fact, according to a writer, the capital of Burma has many American towns beat a mile in the civic improvement line. "Its electric-lighted highways, all broad, neatly paved and well drained; its brilliantly illuminated boulevards, with rows of graceful, well-trimmed trees bordering both sides; its blocks of buildings, all laid out after a carefully considered plan, showing little of architectural beauty but much of austere regularity, astonish the stranger.

"When you take into consideration the fact that Rangoon has a system of parks and parkways with beautiful shade trees, choice flowers, and crystal lakes, artificial and natural, dotted about them, and that it provides breathing spaces for people living in congested districts, you cannot but form a good idea of the aliveness of the municipal corporation. A good horse-carriage service, now being rapidly superseded by the trolley, makes transportation easy and cheap. The city has provided splendid schools and playgrounds. Yet sixty years ago Rangoon was a mere fishing village."

One item from Mr. Kipling's picture of Rangoon referred to the elephants hauling teakwood in "the slushy, squdgy creek." Well, they are still at it, working with wonderful precision and an apparent sense of responsibility. They don't try to soldier, never get in one another's way or mixed up with the machinery, no matter how cramped they may be for room.

Some of them take the teak logs which have been floated down the river and tow them ashore. Then they drag them to the sawmills, either rolling them with one foot while they walk on three, pushing them with their tusks, or pulling them with a chain attached to a breast strap.

Inside the mill an elephant selects a log, picks it out with his tusks, kicks it up to the saw with his toes, then tying his trunk in a kind of knot around the log, holds it against the teeth of the saw while it is made into boards, pushing aside the outside slabs as they are cut off and adjusting the log to make boards of the proper thickness.

Then he piles the boards up neatly, standing off to examine the effect, and if he finds a board out of line carefully adjusting it. Sometimes a pair of elephants working together exchange peculiar grunts, as if they were giving and receiving directions.

They are used in Burma for various purposes. The young calves are ridden like horses, with a soft pad and stirrups. They are found especially valuable in bad country, and may be ridden fifty or sixty miles a day. A tap on the side of the head, a slight pressure of the knee, or a word whispered in the ear is all that is required to guide them.

It is not at all a difficult matter for an elephant in prime condition to outrun a fast horse, but they cannot jump. A deep ditch only six or seven feet wide is impassable to them.

Working elephants are in their prime when they are twenty-five years old. They are expensive to feed, it being declared in Rangoon that an elephant eats a quarter of his weight in feed every day. An average day's food for one is certainly eight hundred pounds.

Socially Burma is unlike other Oriental countries. Men and women--even young men and women--walk together in the streets and mingle in social gatherings. Courtship always precedes the marriage.

The Burmans are ardent lovers, and when a young man and woman find that their parents do not approve of the match they usually repair to the woods and return after a day or two as man and wife, sure of parental forgiveness. Marriage among Burmans is an extremely simple affair. The only ceremony performed is the eating together out of the same bowl of rice. Usually a feast is given to the relatives and friends of the families concerned. No sacrifices are offered, no services are performed.

The Burman wears a smile on his countenance, laughs and looks upon life through rose-colored spectacles. Both the women and the men wear rich-hued silken clothes. But while there is gayety there is no indecorum or impropriety.

For women Burma is a little heaven on earth, if we are to believe enthusiastic writers. Mrs. Burman is ubiquitous. Jewelry stores containing untold wealth in pearls, rubies, and other gems are in charge of women. Markets and fruit stalls are run by women.

At the railroad station a woman sells you the tickets and another one is ready to take dictation and to do your type-writing. Not long ago a woman stockbroker died leaving a fortune which she had made herself. But the Burmese woman does not let business interfere with motherhood. She runs the shop with one hand and the children with the other.

When she marries the woman retains her own name, and any property she may have inherited or acquired. When divorced she is expected to support her children, but this is no hardship for her, since she cared for them when she lived with her husband. The Burmese child rarely sees the father, but is brought up to look to its mother for guidance and support.

The Burmese woman takes a great interest in public affairs, and the portals of the University of Rangoon have been open to her for a number of years. Her intelligence, her beauty, her freedom from racial caste prejudice, all make her an acceptable bride in the eyes of foreigners who go to Burma.

Marriage with a foreigner means as a rule that she can live in plenty and comfort without working. Naturally she looks upon such a marriage with favor. The Burmans are of Mongolian origin, and consequently the Chinese and Burmese marriage produces a virile race. With this exception the intermixture of races in Burma has not proved desirable.

This is especially so in case of marriages between Europeans and Burmans. The offspring of such marriages are termed Eurasians, who unfortunately seem to be looked down upon both by full-blooded Europeans and Burmans.

Almost as difficult a problem as that of the Eurasian is the tobacco problem in Burma. Men, women, and children smoke. The cheroot at which they almost incessantly puff is eighteen inches long and about a quarter of an inch in diameter. It is wrapped in a banana leaf, and its mouthpiece consists of bamboo. The Burman tobacco is so strong that only one-fourth of the filling of the cheroot consists of tobacco. The balance is a mixture of innocuous herbs.

If possible the Burman exceeds other Asiatics in hospitality. He is par excellence the host of Asia. Any stranger may stroll into a Burman dwelling and demand hospitality for at least three days. No remuneration is expected. Opposite a Burmese house one usually finds earthen pots of water placed for the use of the traveler, under a roof especially made to shelter the water from the hot rays of the tropical sun. These pots are tightly covered with earthen lids, which protect the water from dirt and dust.

The social life of the Burmans is interesting in the extreme. They indulge in boxing matches, pony, bullock, and boat races, cock fighting, splitting cocoanuts, snake charming, and juggling. Chess and dominoes are the favorite games. Theatres are in great vogue. The plot of the play is usually somewhat monotonous, for almost invariably the hero is a prince of the blood royal, the heroine is a princess, and the rustics from the villages figure as clowns and jesters.

The dancing, though different from what it is in the Occident, is not without interest to a Westerner. The motions of the dancers are graceful and spry. Burman amusements last days and nights. The best known secular festival is the pwe.

The entertainment is melodramatic. Comedy and tragedy are introduced, music and dancing are included. The plot of the play is flimsy. The performance includes tricks of clowns who are masters of their art and intensely amusing. The musical instruments in the orchestra consist of a circle of drums, gongs, trumpets, and wooden clappers, and the music out-Wagners Wagner in its deafening noise.

Many religious festivals are celebrated. Probably the occasion when presents are distributed to the priests is the most interesting. The people bring their presents and pile them up outside an alley made of bamboo latticework. One brings candles, another matches, another brass vessels, etc., as though some previous arrangement had been made as to just what each one shall give.

For the most part the donors are women, and all of them are dressed in their best. The monks, attended by a boy carrying a large basket, pass down the bamboo alley in single file, and each basket is filled with presents. A trio of masqueraders with faces blackened, dancing to comic music, follows the procession. Anything that has not been distributed to the priests is gathered up by them.

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=IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS= of our Weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained from this office direct. Fill out the following Order Blank and send it to us with the price of the Weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail. =POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY.=

________________________ _190_

_STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City._

_Dear Sirs: Enclosed please find_ ___________________________
_cents for which send me_:

TIP TOP WEEKLY, Nos. ________________________________

NICK CARTER WEEKLY, " ________________________________

DIAMOND DICK WEEKLY, " ________________________________

BUFFALO BILL STORIES, " ________________________________

BRAVE AND BOLD WEEKLY, " ________________________________

MOTOR STORIES, " ________________________________

_Name_ ________________ _Street_ ________________

_City_ ________________ _State_ ________________

A GREAT SUCCESS!!

MOTOR STORIES

Every boy who reads one of the splendid adventures of Motor Matt, which are making their appearance in this weekly, is at once surprised and delighted. Surprised at the generous quantity of reading matter that we are giving for five cents; delighted with the fascinating interest of the stories, second only to those published in the Tip Top Weekly.

Matt has positive mechanical genius, and while his adventures are unusual, they are, however, drawn so true to life that the reader can clearly see how it is possible for the ordinary boy to experience them.

_HERE ARE THE TITLES NOW READY AND THOSE TO BE PUBLISHED_:

1--Motor Matt; or, The King of the Wheel.

2--Motor Matt's Daring; or, True to His Friends.

3--Motor Matt's Century Run; or, The Governor's Courier.

4--Motor Matt's Race; or, The Last Flight of the "Comet."

5--Motor Matt's Mystery; or, Foiling a Secret Plot.

6--Motor Matt's Red Flier; or, On the High Gear.

7--Motor Matt's Clue; or, The Phantom Auto.

8--Motor Matt's Triumph; or, Three Speeds Forward.

9--Motor Matt's Air Ship; or, The Rival Inventors.

10--Motor Matt's Hard Luck; or, The Balloon House Plot.

11--Motor Matt's Daring Rescue; or, The Strange Case of Helen Brady.

12--Motor Matt's Peril; or, Cast Away in the Bahamas.

13--Motor Matt's Queer Find; or, The Secret of the Iron Chest.

14--Motor Matt's Promise; or, The Wreck of the "Hawk."

15--Motor Matt's Submarine; or, The Strange Cruise of the "Grampus."

16--Motor Matt's Quest; or, Three Chums in Strange Waters.

17--Motor Matt's Close Call; or, The Snare of Don Carlos.

18--Motor Matt in Brazil; or, Under the Amazon.

19--Motor Matt's Defiance; or, Around the Horn.

20--Motor Matt Makes Good; or, Another Victory for the Motor Boys.

21--Motor Matt's Launch; or, A Friend in Need.

22--Motor Matt's Enemies; or, A Struggle for the Right.

23--Motor Matt's Prize; or, The Pluck that Wins.

24--Motor Matt on the Wing; or, Flying for Fame and Fortune.

To be Published on August 9th.

25--Motor Matt's Reverse; or, Caught in a Losing Game.

To be Published on August 16th.

26--Motor Matt's "Make or Break"; or, Advancing the Spark of
Friendship.

To be Published on August 23d.

27--Motor Matt's Engagement; or, On the Road With a Show.

To be Published on August 30th.

28--Motor Matt's "Short Circuit"; or, The Mahout's Vow.

PRICE, FIVE CENTS

At all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of the price.

STREET & SMITH, _Publishers_, NEW YORK

Transcriber's Notes:

Added table of contents.

Italics are represented with _underscores_, bold with =equal signs=.

Converted oe ligatures to "oe" for this text version; ligatures retained in HTML edition.

Page 3, changed "an an" to "as an" in "white as an American."

Page 10, changed "me" to "we" in "we were going after Archie"

Page 18, corrected typo "MsGlory" in "McGlory was out of the car."

Page 22, changed "of" to "off" in "as he started off."

Page 27, corrected typo "metoowah" in "Awake, _meetoowah_!"

End of Project Gutenberg's Motor Matt's Engagement, by Stanley R. Matthews