Motor Matt; or, The King of the Wheel
Stanley R. Matthews
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MOTOR STORIES
THRILLING ADVENTURE
MOTOR FICTION
NO. 1 FEB. 27, 1909.
FIVE CENTS
MOTOR MATT
THE KING OF THE WHEEL
BY STANLEY R. MATTHEWS.
A thousand dollars if you stop that boy! shouted the manin the back of the touring-car]
MOTOR STORIES
THRILLING ADVENTURE MOTOR FICTION
_Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered according toAct of Congress in the year 1909, in the Office of the Librarian ofCongress, Washington, D. C., by_ STREET & SMITH, _79-89 Seventh Avenue,New York, N. Y._
No. 1. NEW YORK, February 27, 1909. Price Five Cents.
MOTOR MATT;
OR,
The King of the Wheel.
By STANLEY R. MATTHEWS.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. BAD BLOOD. CHAPTER II. THE UNEXPECTED. CHAPTER III. DACE SHOWS HIS HAND. CHAPTER IV. WELCOME SHOWS HIS HAND--WITH SOMETHING IN IT. CHAPTER V. DACE PERRY'S CRAFTINESS. CHAPTER VI. THE TRY-OUT. CHAPTER VII. THE MAJOR'S SURPRISE. CHAPTER VIII. THE RABBITT'S FOOT. CHAPTER IX. MATT SHOWS HIS COLORS. CHAPTER X. A CHALLENGE. CHAPTER XI. FOUL PLAY. CHAPTER XII. COOL VILLAINY. CHAPTER XIII. THE BLUEBELL. CHAPTER XIV. COMING OF THE "COMET." CHAPTER XV. THE FLIGHT OF THE "COMET." CHAPTER XVI. MOTOR MATT, KING OF THE WHEEL! THE MAN-HUNTER. THE RAT CRUSADE.
CHAPTER I.
BAD BLOOD.
"Hello, peaches!"
The girl in the calico dress turned quickly. There was a startled lookin her brown eyes, and she drew back a little from the gate.
The laughing words had been flung at her breathlessly by a boy who wastrotting along the road--a boy in running-togs with "P. H. S." in redletters across the breast of his white shirt. He came from the north,and the girl had been leaning upon the gate and looking south, acrossthe bridge that spanned the canal and led into the town of Phoenix.
"I--I don't think I know you," murmured the girl, a look of repugnancecrossing her brown, pretty face.
"Yes, you do," panted the boy, swinging in toward the gate and comingto a halt. "Sure you know me." Catching hold of the gate-palings hesteadied himself and grinned in a manner which he must have thoughtengaging. "Why, you've seen me a dozen times, anyhow. Take anotherlook."
After stealing a furtive glance at him the girl took a step backward.
"I've seen you, yes," she said quietly, "but I don't know you--and Idon't think I care to know you."
"Don't jump at conclusions like that," the boy went on with a coollaugh. "You're old McReady's girl, Susie, and I'm--well, right here'swhere I introduce myself. I'm Dace Perry, captain of the High Schoolcross-country team. Had the boys out for a practise run this morning,and as I'm 'way in the lead of all of them except Clipperton, I reckonI'll linger in this fair spot until they come up. Don't be so bashful,Susie; I won't bite, honest."
"I'm not afraid of your biting, Dace Perry," answered Susie with aflirt of the head. "If all I've heard of you is true, you're more givento barking than anything else."
Temper flashed an instant in the boy's sloe-black eyes, giving an uglyhint of the darker side of his character. When the anger faded anunpleasant crafty look was left on his face.
"You can't believe all you hear, and not more than half you see," heremarked. "Where's Nutmegs? I know him."
"There's no such person as 'Nutmegs,'" answered the girl tartly. "Ifyou mean my brother, Mark, he's in his laboratory down by the canal."
Perry stared a moment, then gave vent to an amused whistle.
"Laboratory, eh? Well, that's a good one, Susie. Where's the reformedroad-agent? Is he in the laboratory joint, too?"
"No, Welcome has gone into town, but I can call Mark if you----"
"No, don't call him, Susie," interrupted Perry. "I've got something totell you about Matt King. Say, I thought that would make you open youreyes. I reckon you don't think much of Matt King, eh?"
Vivid color mantled the girl's cheeks.
"Matt is a chum of Mark's, and a good friend of mine," she answered,"and everybody says he's the best all-around athlete in the highschool. Major Woolford has picked him to represent the athletic club inthe bicycle races with Prescott and----"
"King has got to make good at the try-out first," scowled Perry.
"He'll do that, all right," averred Susie. "I guess there's no doubtabout his being able to beat _you_."
"If what I've heard about him is true," continued Perry, "I reckon hewon't have anything to do with the try-out, or with the race, either."
Sudden interest flashed in Susie's face. "What have you heard?" shedemanded curiously.
So deeply concerned was she in this information about Matt King whichPerry professed to have acquired, that she stepped eagerly to the gate.
This was what Perry had been waiting for. Susie McReady had jarred hisvanity and his temper several times during their brief interview, andit was his nature to try to "play even." His idea of squaring accountswith the girl was directly in line with his low ideals and his insolentnature.
Leaning forward quickly Perry flung one arm about the girl's neck.
"I reckon you'll know me after this," cried Perry, and attempted togive the struggling girl a kiss.
Unseen by either of the two at the gate, a boy had glided noiselesslytoward them on a wheel. He came from the direction of town and, as hecrossed the bridge and saw Susie and Dace Perry, an inkling of thesituation at the gate darted through his mind, and caused him to putmore power into the pedals.
Suddenly the captain of the cross-country team was caught from behindand hurled backward with such force that he measured his length on theground.
"Oh, Matt, Matt!" exclaimed Susie.
"What's the matter with you?" snarled Perry, quickly regaining hisfeet. His face was black with rage and he stepped toward Matt withdoubled fists.
"I guess there's nothing much the matter with me," answered Mattcoolly, "but you're a good deal of a cur, Dace Perry."
"What do you mean by butting in here like that?" fumed Perry, anythingbut logical now that anger had got the whip-hand of him.
"That's the way I was raised," answered Matt.
"I reckon the way you was raised gave somebody a lot of trouble,"sneered Perry.
"Well, you can bet I'm going to give somebody a lot of trouble if Susieis bothered any more."
"You're swaggering around with a chip on your shoulder all the time,ain't you?"
"Not so you can notice it," laughed Matt, "but you'll always find achip on my shoulder when a fellow acts like you were doing just now."
"Oh, punk!" Dace Perry changed his mind about wanting to fight andbacked off down the road. "This isn't the end of our little ruction,Matt King. I'll give you the double-cross yet, see if I don't!"
"So-long!" answered Matt.
Perry shook his fist, looked northward along the road in the evidenthope of locating some of his team, then turned disappointedly andsprinted for the bridge.
"I was never so glad of anything in my life, Matt," breathed Susie, "asto have you get here just when you did."
"I'm a little bit tickled myself, Susie," laughed Matt, picking up hiswheel and standing it alongside the fence, "but I guess Perry won'ttrouble you any more."
"I hate him!" cried Susie, stamping her foot. "He's never been a friendof Mark's, nor of yours, either, Matt."
"I guess Mark won't lose any sleep over t
hat, and I know I won't."
"All the same, Matt, you'd better look out for him. A coward who fightsyou behind your back is more to be feared than a braver enemy who facesyou in the open."
"That's a cinch. But let's forget Dace Perry for a while and think ofsomething more pleasant. Where's Chub, Susie?"
Before the girl could answer, a husky voice was wafted toward the twofrom along the road.
"Oh, a bold, bad man was this desperado, An' he blowed inter town like an ole tornado-- Ta-rooral--ooral--ay!"
Susie and Matt looked in the direction from which this burst ofmelody--if such it could be called--proceeded. An old man with a woodenleg was approaching, keeping the tempo of his song with jabs of the pinthat took the place of his right foot.
"Here's Welcome Perkins," said Matt, with a broad smile, leaning backagainst the gate-post and fixing his eyes on the old man.
"He's been to town after something for Mark," returned Susie.
Welcome Perkins, otherwise Peg-leg Perkins, otherwise the "reformedroad-agent," always reminded Matt of a picture out of a comicsupplement. He was little, and wizened, and old--just how old no oneknew, but it was popularly supposed that he was somewhere aroundseventy. He had a pair of the mildest washed-out blue eyes ever set ina man's head, notwithstanding the fact that he was constantly assertingthat he had passed his early life as a "pirate of the plains"; anddisplayed with pride an old, played-out six-shooter whose hand-grip wascovered with notches--notches that made Welcome sigh and grow pensiveevery time he looked at them. Welcome averred that he was trying tolive down his lawless past, but that his roaring, rampant, untameddisposition made the effort a struggle and a burden.
The old man wore a long and particularly vicious-looking mustache,which he was constantly training upward at the ends in order to make iteven more desperate in appearance. His scanty gray locks were allowedto grow long, and they were surmounted with an old sombrero, alwayscarefully whacked into the regulation Denver "poke." His ragged blueshirt was drawn in at the waist with a U. S. Army belt, from whichdepended a holster containing the notched and useless weapon alreadymentioned. _Chaparrejos_, or "chaps," which, like their owner, had seenbetter days--or worse and more lawless ones if Welcome's word was to betaken--covered his left lower extremity and all that was left of hisright. The right leg of the chaps was cut away at the knee in order togive freer play to the wooden pin.
Silas McReady, the father and sole remaining parent of Susie and Mark,was a prospector, and constantly in the hills. Welcome was an old-timefriend of Silas, and for years had been fastened upon the McReadyhousehold like a barnacle.
"Howdy, pard!" roared Welcome as he drew near the gate and reached outhis hand. "It's plumb good for a ole outlaw like me to grip a honestpa'm. It helps to make me fergit what I was and to brace up an' be whatI ort. I'm a horrible example o' what happens to a man when he cutsloose in his youth an' bloom an' terrorizes all outdoors--but I can'tbegin to tell ye how pacifyin' to my reckless natur' is the grip of ahonest hand."
"Then give it a good grip, Welcome," grinned Matt. "I'd hate to haveyou get turbulent and go on the war-path. If a man of your age----"
Welcome, still holding Matt's hand, allowed his eyes to wander alongthe road to the northwest. Suddenly the weather-beaten, leathery facegrew stern and the faded eyes snapped.
"Scud for the house, you two!" yelled Welcome; "scud! Trouble'sa-tearin' down on us out o' the hills, an' here's whar Eagle-eyePerkins, Pirate o' the Plains, gets busy!"
The old man threw himself on Matt and pushed him through the gate. Inhis excitement, the strap that secured the wooden pin to Welcome'sstump of a leg, broken and mended times out of mind, gave way anddropped Welcome into the yard behind Matt and Susie.
The eagle-eyed defender paid no attention to his fall, but as the gateswung shut drew himself up against the palings and jerked his obsoleteweapon clear of the holster.
"Put your trust in Eagle-eye Perkins," he called valiantly to Matt andSusie; "if them red demons get at ye they walks over me to do it!"
