CHAPTER II.

INTO A NOOSE--AND OUT OF IT AGAIN.

Motor Matt, swinging along the road toward Madison, that morning, was

particularly light-hearted. He and his new chum, Joe McGlory, had

accomplished something worth while; and whenever a young fellow does

that he is pretty sure to be on good terms with himself.

The long railroad journey from San Francisco to a point within a few

miles of Madison had been safely accomplished. Young Lorry had not been

a willing traveler, at first, but Matt had gradually won him over by

suggesting a plan which carried an appeal to Lorry's heart. This plan

had to do with the three boys leaving the train at Waunakee, taking to

the little cabin in the woods, and then Lorry and McGlory staying there

while Matt went on to the city for a talk with the elder Lorry and to

deliver the ten thousand dollars.

Motor Matt and McGlory had had some exciting experiences with Big John

and his two pals, Kinky and Ross, but those experiences had been passed

through safely, and the end of the journey, if not of Matt's work, was

in sight.

Matt had faith to believe that there was "good stuff" in George Lorry.

The boy had fled from Madison, and had committed a dishonest act before

doing so. Having far and away too much pride for his own good, the

thought of being brought back, virtually under guard and in disgrace,

was more than he could bear. Matt had tried to think of a plan for

giving Lorry's return a different look--hence the reason for McGlory

and Lorry remaining in the cabin while Matt went on to the city.

The morning was fresh, the sun was bright, and the clear weather seemed

a good augury for what lay before. Matt always made it a point to look

on the bright side of things, anyway.

Ahead of him lay a bend in the road. When he rounded the bend he felt

sure that he would be able to catch a glimpse of the white dome of the

capitol, and from that point onward he would not be long in covering

the ground.

He halted abruptly just before he got to the bend. The peculiar

corrugated marks of automobile tires lay under his eyes in the dust

of the road. It wasn't so much the marks themselves that claimed his

attention as the strange way they curved from the roadside and entered

the brush. Why should an automobile be taking to the woods in that

unaccountable fashion?

From ahead of him, around the bend, he heard a car. The car was on the

move, plainly enough, but the motor was in distress, pounding badly;

not only that, but there was a smell of fried engine in the air, as

though some reckless driver were burning up his transmission.

Was the car Matt heard the one that had left its tracks there by the

roadside? He presumed that this must be the case; so, instead of

investigating the bushes, he started to run around the bend. If he

could help the injured car, then perhaps the driver might give him a

lift the rest of the way into town.

As he started on, after a moment's pause, a sinuous, snakelike thing

leaped noiselessly from the bushes behind him, unwound itself in the

air, and a loop fell over his head and dropped on his shoulders.

Motor Matt jumped as though he had been touched with a live wire. He

half turned and lifted his hands to remove the coil, but it tightened

before he could free himself, and a rough jerk from behind landed him

on his back in the dust.

Matt had not been expecting such lawlessness on that peaceable country

road. Who was back of it, and what was the purpose?

To escape, half-strangled as he was and with enemies bearing down on

him, was out of the question--at that moment. The lad's resourcefulness

suggested a trick, whereby he hoped to gain time and discover a chance

for escape.

Although the fall backward had not injured him in the least, yet he

gave a groan, tried to lift himself, and then fell back and lay still

and silent.

In his ears the pounding of the motor around the bend continued to

echo, but, from the noise, he could not discover that the car was

coming in his direction. A quick tramp of feet and a rustle of bushes

were heard, and two figures bounded to his side. One of the figures

was that of a man, and the other of a well-dressed, dissipated-looking

youth.

Matt, peering from half-closed eyes, could scarcely restrain an

exclamation at sight of the man. When he had seen the man last, in San

Francisco Bay, he had worn a red beard. Although the beard was gone,

Matt recognized the scoundrel instantly--and the mole served to make

his identification complete.

"Confound it, John!" grumbled the youth, "_now_ what have you done? If

he's badly hurt----"

Big John laughed.

"Hurt! Motor Matt badly hurt by a little drop like that! Why, he's

tougher'n whalebone and you couldn't damage him with a sledge hammer.

He's just stunned and strangled, that's all. A good thing for me, too,

because he'll never know who roped him and we can get away before he

comes to himself. Pull out that noose so he can breathe, Ollie. I'll

get what I want out of the younker's pocket and----"

"There's another machine!" Ollie muttered, staring toward the bend as

he was about to stoop over Matt and release the noose.

"Just heard it?" answered Big John. "Well, don't let it worry you. I've

heard it for some time, and it's coming into this road from a branch

and is bound for town. Look sharp, now, for we've got to hustle."

While Ollie, with trembling fingers, pulled out the loop and drew it

over Matt's head, Big John went down on one knee to search his pockets.

Matt knew, then, what Big John was after. The rascal was foolish enough

to think Matt was carrying Lorry's money in cash. This was not the

case, for Matt and McGlory had bought a draft in San Francisco. Matt,

however, did not intend to lose even the draft.

Suddenly, and most unexpectedly, he became very much alive. With a

quick move he hoisted himself upward, catching Ollie by the shoulders

and hurling him, with terrific force, against Big John.

Both the youth and the man were caught at a disadvantage. Ollie gave

a startled cry as he carromed against Big John, and the latter, as he

staggered back, said something more forcible than polite.

As for Matt, if he had any comments to make, he preferred to send them

by mail. Without hesitating an instant, he took to his heels and tore

around the bend.

He could see the dome of the capitol, far off and embowered by trees,

but he was thinking more, at that moment, of the other car than he was

of the capitol.

A hundred yards ahead was another road, coming from the timber into the

one he was following. The moment Matt raced around the bend a swagger

little runabout was jumping from one road into the other.

The car was not _headed_ toward Madison, although it was proceeding in

that direction. It was on the reverse gear, and a young woman in the

driver's seat was craning her head around in order to see the way and

do the guiding.

There was only the young woman in the car, and Matt, in spite of his

dangerous situation, felt a distinct sense of disappointment. He had

been hoping to meet a man, in that emergency, and now to meet a young

woman----

But he had no time to waste in vain regrets. A look over his shoulder

showed him Big John hurrying after him at top speed.

Matt knew that Big John was one of those lawless persons who carry

weapons in their hip pockets, and, although Matt's legs could

outdistance Big John's, the young motorist would hardly be able to

keep ahead of a bullet.

But Big John held his hand and determined to trust to his sprinting

ability. To use a revolver would, perhaps, have carried the matter

farther than he wanted to see it go.

Besides, Ollie was cranking up the big car and making ready to bring it

along in pursuit.

The smell of sizzling engine became stronger as Matt drew closer to the

runabout. The girl, with a very white face, had turned in her seat and

was staring toward Matt with startled eyes. At the same moment she had

brought the car to a stop.

Big John, on seeing Matt draw abreast of the runabout, halted and

looked around for Ollie and the touring car.

"Will you give me a ride into Madison?" Matt asked of the girl, as

respectfully as he could in the circumstances.

"What's--what's the matter?" asked the girl.

"That fellow, back there, tried to rob me. I don't think he will follow

me far, on a public highway in broad daylight--if you will let me ride

in the runabout."

"But the bearings are chewed up!" cried the girl; "I'm going home on

the reverse."

"Take the other seat, please," said Matt. "I know something about

motors, and perhaps I can handle the car so as to get more speed out of

it with less rack on the engine."

Without a word the girl changed to the other seat and Matt leaped into

the car beside her.

The next moment he had advanced the spark, thrown in the high-speed

clutch, and they were shooting down a long slope.

Matt's eyes were behind, and the girl's in front of her.

"Oh, hurry, hurry!" she cried, in a frightened voice. "They've got

a big touring car, and I don't think anything can keep them from

overtaking us!"

Motor Matt's Enemies; or, A Struggle for the Right Motor Stories Thrilling Adventure Motor Fiction No. 22, July 24, 1909 · 第 2 / 16 章