UNDER THE OVERTURNED BOAT.
When Matt, Lorry, and McGlory had made forcible entrance into the
boathouse, it had been through the door that fronted the river. Merton
and Big John had entered through a door at the other end of the house.
Thus, for a time, at least, the broken lock on the other door was not
discovered.
"Light up," went on the voice of Big John. "And if you've got anything
in a bottle, Ollie, trot it out and mebby it'll drive the chill from
our bones. I'm not pinin' for an attack of rheumatism."
"I've got that, too," answered Ollie, with a fatuous snicker. "Always
keep something for snake bites."
"And it's a bad thing for a lad of your years. Hurry up with the light."
"Give me time to get out of this mackintosh and then I'll hunt for
matches."
There followed the slap of a wet garment on the floor. The next moment
a match was struck, and young Merton could be seen making for the lamp.
The moment he touched the chimney he jumped back with a cry and the
match dropped from his fingers.
"What ails you?" demanded Big John.
"Why, the chimney's _hot_!" exclaimed Merton. "Somebody's been here,
and they haven't been gone very long, either."
"Thunder! It must have been Ross and Kinky. They were to meet us here,
you know, and Ross had a key to the boathouse."
"If they were here a few minutes ago," went on Merton, "why aren't they
here now?"
"I'll have to pass that. But if any one was here, it was those pals of
mine. Go on and light the lamp. Use your handkerchief for taking off
the chimney."
Matt, under the overturned boat, drew a breath of relief. But it was
only a temporary relief. Already he was wondering what would happen
when Ross and Kinky arrived at the rendezvous. Ross had told Matt that
he and Kinky were to meet Big John that night, but had carried the
impression that the meeting was to take place in town.
Merton's fears were apparently relieved, and he soon had the lamp
lighted.
Big John divested himself of a raincoat and removed a dripping cap.
Coat and cap he hung very carefully from two nails in the wall.
Merton, meanwhile, was unlocking a cupboard. A bottle and two glasses
came out of the cupboard. Merton poured some of the liquor into the
glasses. Big John reached over and emptied part of Merton's glass into
his own.
"That leaves enough for you, son, and a heap more than you ought to
have," said he. "It ain't good for younkers--nor for old fellers,
either."
"Oh, splash!" grunted Merton. "You ought to go around with a pocketful
of tracts," he grinned. "Whenever you rob a man, leave a tract with
him."
"You're mighty cute," observed Big John, setting his empty glass on the
table and leaning back in his chair, "but the two of us wasn't cute
enough to get the best of Motor Matt. There's a boy! He's a bright and
shinin' example. He has backcapped me twice, and the more he does it
the more I admire him."
Merton stared; then, developing his silver cigarette case and his
silver match box, he proceeded to smoke.
"You're a queer fish, Big John," said he. "If you've got such high
standards, why don't you live up to 'em?"
Big John shook his head gloomily.
"I expect it ain't in me," he answered.
"If you'd had Ross and Kinky with you, there at the bend in the
Waunakee road, this Motor Matt wouldn't have made a get-away."
"Mebby not; but Ross is down on Motor Matt and wouldn't hesitate to
hand him his finish. That's the reason I wouldn't have Ross along; and
I let Kinky stay with Ross as a sort of safeguard, in case anythin'
went crossways and Ross happened to find Motor Matt. Only the hope of
me gettin' that money has caused Ross to hold back as long as he has.
Now that he knows there's no hope of gettin' the money, he'll be as mad
as a cannibal. Ross is worse'n an Apache Injun when he's worked up."
"Then he'll be mad when he comes here and finds you didn't get the
money, won't he?"
"He will; and I've laid my plans to make a quick jump for the West.
I'll land that precious Ross where he won't get us all into trouble."
"You were telling me that you had set old man Lorry against Motor Matt."
A slow grin worked its way over Big John's face.
"Anonymous letter," said he. "I just wrote Lorry that I was a
detective, and didn't think it wise to put my information over my own
name, see? Then I went on to tell him to look out for Motor Matt, and
explained that he was in cahoots with the three desperate scoundrels
who had stolen the ten thousand in 'Frisco. That'll make Lorry think a
little. But see here, son. You haven't been private adviser for young
Lorry just to make a man of him in the gamblin' line, have you? What's
your graft? I'll bet it's somethin' more than getting him away from his
mother's apron strings, and out of the sissy class."
Merton's sinister face took on a crafty look.
"You're right," said he. "The Winnequa Club has a race in a few days.
For reasons of my own, I intend to win that race. See? Lorry also
wanted to have a boat in the race, and he's about the only one, apart
from me, whose dad has money enough to furnish him with a boat that
will make the rest of us climb. But old man Lorry isn't furnishing
George with the boat." Merton chuckled. "When George asked me what he
ought to do the time his father threatened to send him to military
school, I told George to skip, and to get as far away as he could. That
left me free to do as I wanted to in that motor-boat event."
Merton winked.
"H'm!" murmured Big John. "You're a foxy youngster. I'm not sayin' it's
creditable in you, mind, but it shows sharp thinking, all right."
The three boys under the overturned boat were able to see and hear all
that went on. When the conversation between Merton and Big John had
proceeded that far, Matt heard a sharp breath escape Lorry's lips.
A few words, and Merton's despicable planning had been laid bare. Out
of Merton's own mouth Lorry could judge him. This false friend, with
whom Lorry had associated, and whose advice he had taken, had headed
him toward irretrievable ruin.
"Oh, I can be foxy if I want to," said Merton. "All I want now is to
make sure that Lorry doesn't get in that race."
"I guess you can be easy on that point," returned Big John dryly. "The
old gent won't put up money for the boat on a bet. Motor Matt called on
Lorry. I talked with Gus, the Lorry chauffeur, and he said there was a
heap of coldness developed durin' the interview, and that when Motor
Matt had left, Lorry used the telephone and asked police headquarters
to have a plain-clothes man pick up his trail and follow him. The fly
cop followed Motor Matt from Third Lake into Fourth, but lost him
somewhere around the Mendota end of the Catfish. The last thing I did,
before leaving Madison to come here, was to drop another unsigned
letter in the mails for Lorry."
"What was that for?" asked Merton.
"I told Lorry that if he would cross Fourth Lake in the morning, and
proceed up the Catfish as far as Whisky Creek, then leave the boat and
walk up the creek for a mile, he would come to the place where Motor
Matt was having McGlory keep his son. I reckon _that_ will give Motor
Matt something to think about. I'll not be here to see the fun, and I
guess young King will get out of the scrape in his customary fashion,
but it'll be something by way of remembering Big John. King has made me
a lot o' trouble, and has beat me out of a pineapple plantation, and
that's all I can do to rough things up for him. You see----"
Big John broke off suddenly. Some one else was approaching the
boathouse. Matt, McGlory, and Lorry could hear the footsteps plainly.
Merton started to get up, but Big John lifted a restraining hand.
"If they're the ones we expect," said he, "they've got a key and can
let themselves in. If they're not the ones we're looking for, then we
don't want them here."
A key rattled in the lock just as Big John finished speaking. The next
moment the door opened and two men blew in.
They were Ross and Kinky!