Chapter XIV: The Broker's Game

The remarks of the landlord, in front of the hotel, had given McGlory and Cameron a clue of which they were not slow to take advantage.

Here was Motor Matt's enemy, the very man who had set in motion the plot which, through Hackberry, had lured the king of the motor boys into Wells County on a useless quest.

Coolly enough Murgatroyd brought his car to a stop in front of the hotel and faced the angry lieutenant and cowboy.

"Your name Murgatroyd?" demanded Cameron.

"My name, yes, sir," answered the broker, half turning in his seat so as to command a better view of the lieutenant. "But," he added quietly, "I believe that you have the advantage of me."

"Cameron's my name."

"Ah!" A flash crossed Murgatroyd's face. "I might have known who you were, just by seeing you with McGlory there. This is a fortunate meeting."

"Fortunate!" cried McGlory, dancing around the front of the car. "Speak to me about that! I should say it was fortunate, you old tinhorn--for us, if not for you. What's this game you've put up on Motor Matt?"

"If we do any talking," said the broker mildly, "you'll have to express yourself in terms that I can understand."

"You'll savvy a heap before we're done with you."

"Just a minute," went on Murgatroyd. "My niece is in the car with me, and I think it well that she should not listen to your violent talk." He looked around. "Amy----"

The girl was white, but she made no attempt to get out of the tonneau.

"I'm not going to leave, Uncle Amos," said she. "I want to hear more of this talk."

"You will please obey me, Amy, and leave the car."

"It is your car," she answered, "and I haven't any right to stay in it if you don't want me to."

Cameron opened the door for her and held out his hand to help her down. She paid no attention to the extended hand, but passed into the hotel.

"Before we begin," proceeded Murgatroyd, "let me ask you if you recognize this watch."

He offered the timepiece as he finished.

"It's Matt's!" exclaimed McGlory, snatching the watch.

"Him Motol Matt's clock, allee light," breathed Ping. The hotel proprietor was the only person, besides Cameron, McGlory, and Ping, within reach of the broker's words.

"This conversation is of a private nature, Brackett," said Murgatroyd significantly, "even though it is taking place in the street in front of your hotel."

Brackett excused himself and passed around the corner of the building.

"That watch," proceeded the broker, "will prove to you that your friend is in my hands. He is being kept safely in a place which you will not be able to find. I have written three letters, one to you, Lieutenant Cameron, one to McGlory, and one to Mrs. Traquair. It will not be necessary to post two of them, for I can tell you, face to face, what the letters contain.

"The one to you, Cameron, has to do with some little unpleasantness connected with the aëroplane trials recently held at Fort Totten. Siwash Charley and, through him, myself were wrongly suspected of complicity in an accident connected with the flying machine. This has been very annoying to me. Your letter contained the information that, other matters being satisfactorily adjusted, your friend Motor Matt would be released under written promise from the authorities at Fort Totten to give over persecuting me and Siwash Charley for a crime of which we are entirely innocent."

McGlory, to put it figuratively, immediately "went up in the air." Before he could air his views, however, Cameron silenced him with a look.

"Motor Matt, according to your proposition, as I understand it," returned the lieutenant calmly, "is to be released providing the military authorities promise you and Siwash Charley immunity?"

"That is one of the conditions governing the release," answered Murgatroyd.

"What are the other conditions?"

"Well, the letter to McGlory contained that. Mrs. Traquair, as satisfaction for the mortgage which I hold against the Traquair homestead, west of here, is to turn over the quarter section to me. That is all. My letter to Mrs. Traquair contains that proposition, and my letter to McGlory requests him to write Mrs. Traquair that what I say, regarding the capture of Motor Matt, is true. McGlory is also to advise her to accept my terms. If those terms are accepted, and if the authorities at Fort Totten agree not to persecute me, or Siwash Charley, any further, Motor Matt will be released."

The cowboy was so full of language that he could hardly restrain himself. Cameron laid a hand on his arm and pushed him away.

"Murgatroyd," said the lieutenant, "you have just made the most impudent and brazen proposition I ever heard. You deliberately plan and commit a crime, and then plan and commit another to save you from legal responsibility for both."

"You look at it in a prejudiced way," returned the broker, apparently not in the least ruffled. "What is your answer?"

The lieutenant was thoughtful for a space.

"I have no power to promise you immunity," said he.

"You will take it up with your superior officer at Fort Totten?"

"I won't say that, but I will say that I will think it over."

"That is all I can ask. How about you, McGlory?"

"Sufferin' wildcats!" gurgled McGlory. "Have I got to answer that? Have I----"

"He'll think it over, Murgatroyd," broke in Cameron, "just as I intend doing. Where is Motor Matt?"

"That is my secret," and the wily broker actually smiled.

"Is he far from here?"

"Another secret. While you are thinking the matter over, I will hunt for a place to stow my car."

He got out to use the crank, and Cameron caught McGlory's arm and led him into the hotel.

"Why didn't I hit him?" the cowboy was murmuring dazedly. "Why didn't you let me hit him, Cameron, or else hit him yourself?"

"Because, McGlory, we've got to talk this over and---- Ah!" The lieutenant broke off as a slender form swept toward him across the office. "This is the young lady, I believe, who was in the car with Mr. Murgatroyd?"

The girl was still pale, but there was resolution in her face and manner.

"I have not much time to talk," said she, "for what I say must be said before my uncle comes in. Mr. Murgatroyd is my uncle. I am a school teacher and live in Fargo with my mother. For some time I have been in poor health, and Mr. Murgatroyd suggested that I take an automobile trip with him through this part of the country, where he was coming to look up some of his investments. For a few days our headquarters have been here. Yesterday afternoon we were riding to the north and west of Sykestown when an aëroplane came sailing toward us, dropped down close to the automobile, and a young man whom I afterward learned was Motor Matt hailed my uncle and asked him some question. When my uncle answered, Motor Matt seemed to recognize him, and tried to turn the air ship away. My uncle had a rifle near him, and he fired at the aëroplane, injuring the machinery so that it fell and----

"No," the girl broke off, seeing the look of alarm that crossed the faces of her auditors. "Motor Matt was not seriously injured, but the aëroplane was damaged. This happened about ten miles out, on the road to Jessup's. My uncle turned around and took me to Jessup's, where he left me. I am very sure that he then went some place, secured Siwash Charley to help him, and made a prisoner of Motor Matt. I do not know where your friend was taken, but it could not have been a great way from Jessup's home--west of the road, I think, and along the base of the hills, for that is the way my uncle came when he returned to the farmhouse. We stayed at Jessup's all night and came here this morning. On the way, we passed the aëroplane, and my uncle got out, looked the machine over, and came back with that watch.

"That is all I can tell you. Do not try to keep me any longer, or to ask me any questions. I shall go back to Fargo by train, for I do not like the way my uncle is doing. I--I hope that you will find your friend and that--that no harm has happened to him."

The girl had spoken rapidly, and with nervous impatience, continually watching the door. When she finished, she turned away and passed hastily up the stairs leading to the second floor.

The amazing news she had given held McGlory, Cameron, and Ping spellbound. While they stood, gazing at each other, Murgatroyd entered the office.

"As soon as you have come to a decision," said he, "let me know."

Then he, too, passed up the stairs.

Cameron was the first of the three to recover his wits.

"Quick!" said he, catching McGlory's arm, "there's no time to be lost. Run over to the railroad station and send a telegram to Mrs. Traquair, McGlory. Tell her to pay no attention to any letter she may receive from Murgatroyd. While you're doing that, I'll get out the car and we'll make a run out on the road to Jessup's."

McGlory, inspired with the necessity for rapid work, hustled for the telegraph office. Cameron hurried to the shed after the car. While he was getting the machine ready, Ping mysteriously disappeared.

As the lieutenant pulled out of the shed, he looked for the cowboy and the Chinaman. Neither was in sight.

Two minutes later McGlory appeared, and crossed from the railroad station to the car on a run.

"Where's Ping?" demanded Cameron.

"That's too many for me," said McGlory. "I thought he was with you."

"And I had the idea that he had gone with you. Well, we can't wait for him," and Cameron drove the car around to the front of the hotel.

A man was crossing the street. Cameron hailed him.

"Which is the road to Jessup's?" he asked.

The man pointed it out. Barely had he given the directions when Murgatroyd ran out of the hotel and vanished around the corner of the building.

"He's after his car!" murmured McGlory.

Some one jumped to the footboard and scrambled into the tonneau just as Cameron threw in the switch. It was Ping. He was breathing hard, and his yellow face was as near white as it could possibly be.

"What's the matter with you, Ping?" asked McGlory.

The Chinaman held up one hand. As the flowing sleeve fell away his yellow fingers could be seen gripping a switch plug.

"Murg forgettee plug," chattered Ping. "My findee car, takee plug----"

Cameron let off a shout as he coaxed the automobile into a faster pace.

"That knocks out Murgatroyd, so far as chasing us is concerned," said he. "Shake hands with the chink for me, McGlory. I'm too all-fired busy."