"UNCLE SAM" TAKES HOLD.
"Them fellers stopped me," said Jake, "an' was allowin' to unload the
flyin' machine. What could I do agin' the lot of 'em, and armed like
they was? But the fust I knowed they intended ter smash the thing was
when Siwash begun talkin' with you. He'd have shot ye, too. I know
him, an' I know he's desprit, so I took a chanst with the blacksnake.
Gosh-all-hemlocks, but I shore made a good throw of it."
"You certainly did," said Matt, "and I'm much obliged to you."
Matt turned away from the wagon to talk with the officer in charge of
the troopers. The soldiers had come to a halt, and one of them, in the
uniform of a lieutenant, had spurred forward.
"What's the ruction here?" he demanded. "Benner rushed up to the fort
and said some one had stolen the Traquair aëroplane. He showed us a
telegram he had received, told us he had started Jake for Oberon with
the machine, and that a couple of young fellows had happened along,
pronounced the telegram a forgery, and had started in pursuit of Jake
in an automobile. Are you one of the lot that chased up Jake?"
"Yes," said Matt. "Harry Traquair was killed in Jamestown----"
"That's stale news," interrupted the lieutenant, sitting back in his
saddle and taking Matt's sizing at his leisure.
"Well," went on the king of the motor boys, "I've come to Totten to try
out the aëroplane for the government."
"You?" The lieutenant laughed. "Why, my lad, the machine will do for
you just as it did for Traquair. Who are you?"
"Matt King."
The lieutenant almost fell out of his saddle.
"Not Motor Matt?" he asked.
"That's what I'm called more often than anything else."
"Well, this certainly takes the cake!" muttered the lieutenant, pulling
at his mustache. "My name's Cameron, and I'm a lieutenant in the signal
corps. By a coincidence, I'm here to watch the trials of the aëroplane
for the government."
"Where does the coincidence come in, lieutenant?" asked Matt.
"Do you remember a young fellow called Ensign Glennie?"
"Remember Glennie?" cried Matt. "Well, I guess I do. Why, he went
around South America with me in a submarine."
"Representing the government, wasn't he?"
"Yes."
"Well, Glennie's my cousin, and he wrote me all about you and that trip
in the submarine. So that's where the coincidence comes in. He watched
your work with the submarine for the government, just as I'm to watch
your work with the aëroplane. Give us your hand, Motor Matt! I feel as
though we were old friends."
Matt was delighted. It was one of those meetings which sometimes
happen, and which make a fellow overjoyed with the occasional workings
of fate. McGlory, Black, and Ping were introduced, and then Matt took
the lieutenant off by himself and narrated the events that had taken
place, and which had led up to the villainous work of Siwash Charley.
Lieutenant Cameron was properly indignant.
"Siwash Charley's a whelp," he averred, "and this Murgatroyd is a
thoroughbred scoundrel. But the aëroplane seems to be safe, and you'll
have no further trouble with those villains. From this on, Motor
Matt, you and your friends and the Traquair aëroplane are under the
protecting wing of Uncle Sam. We'll have the flying machine guarded,
and you and your friends will stay at the fort with us. There's only
a handful of boys at Totten, now, but we're more than enough to look
after Siwash Charley."
The lieutenant rode over to the wagon.
"Jake," said he, "you'd better drive back with that machine."
"That's what I was calculatin'," grinned Jake. "Somebody hand up my
whip."
McGlory gathered in the blacksnake, and tossed it to the teamster.
"Sergeant," called the lieutenant to one of the troopers, "you and the
rest will convoy the aëroplane back to Totten. If Siwash Charley or any
of his gang show up, shoot them on sight."
"All roight, sor," answered the sergeant, touching his cap.
"Ride back with us in the car, lieutenant," suggested Matt. "One of the
troopers can bring in your horse."
"I'll go with you," said Cameron promptly.
He dismounted at once, and turned his horse over to the Irish sergeant.
He and Matt rode in the tonneau, with Ping, where they could talk to
better advantage, and McGlory mounted to the front seat alongside of
Black.
"My orders instructed me to be of all the assistance I could to
Traquair," remarked Cameron, when they were sliding off toward the
hills on the return trip; "so, of course, now that you represent the
Traquair interests, I consider it my duty to help you."
"Glad of that, lieutenant," responded Matt. "After I get the aëroplane
together I'll not need much help. You see, I've got to learn to run the
machine. There's a knack I've got to get hold of."
"You'll get hold of it, never fear. A fellow like you can learn
whatever he sets out to."
"But I've only got two weeks," laughed Matt, "and there's a fair
chance, according to a good many people, of breaking my neck."
"That's what I was thinking, when I heard Traquair had been killed, and
that there was an advertisement in the newspapers for a man of nerve.
But, somehow, I feel pretty confident of the outcome, now that I know
you are to boss the air flights. Let's see. I think Glennie wrote me
you had had some experience with a dirigible balloon?"
"Yes, I served my apprenticeship at that sort of flying before I tied
up with the submarine."
"Then you can't be called a new hand at the game."
"Sailing a dirigible balloon is a whole lot different from driving an
aëroplane."
"Learn it well, Motor Matt, whatever you do. According to conditions
governing the aëroplane trial, you've got to stay in the air two hours,
make not less than thirty miles an hour, and carry a passenger. I'm to
be the passenger."
So long as Matt had only his neck to think about, the situation was
tolerably clear; but, now that he knew he had to carry the lieutenant
along, he began to worry a little.
"I didn't know that part of it before," said Matt gravely.
"Don't fret, pard," put in McGlory, turning around in his seat. "If the
lieutenant hasn't got the nerve, why, I'll go with you. And I reckon
you know about how much I enjoy the prospect of flyin'."
"You can't cut me out of that, McGlory," declared Cameron. "Why, if
Mrs. Traquair hadn't found some one to navigate the aëroplane, I was
thinking seriously of offering to do it myself. I was attached to the
balloon corps, for a while, but I'm handicapped by a very imperfect
knowledge of gas engines. You're the fellow for the job, all right,
Matt, and you can bet something that I'll not pass up the chance of
flying with you. Know anything about the Traquair aëroplane?"
"Only what I've found out from a study of the model. Apart from that,
I've been looking into the subject of aëroplanes for some time. It was
the hope of adding to my knowledge of the subject that brought me to
North Dakota."
"And you dropped into a villainous conspiracy right at the start off!"
exclaimed Cameron. "I'll send a message to Oberon, just as soon as we
reach the post, and see if Siwash Charley and his mates can be headed
off."
"It won't do any good to send a message, lieutenant," said Matt.
"Siwash knows enough to make himself scarce. Better let the matter
drop--for the present, anyhow."
"But there's Murgatroyd. He's got himself into a pretty kettle of fish.
You can go after _him_."
"I don't want to bother with him, nor with any one nor anything else
but the aëroplane for the next two weeks."
"I guess your head's level on that point," mused Cameron. "However, if
Siwash Charley shows up on the reservation while you're at work, we'll
lay him by the heels and throw him into the guardhouse. When are you
going to put the aëroplane together?"
"This afternoon," replied Matt. "There's no time to lose."
An hour later they were at the post. Black had made up his mind to
remain over until the following day, and Matt paid him his fifty
dollars, and thanked him for his work with the motor car.
Following a late breakfast at the post, Matt went down to meet Jake
and superintend the unloading of the aëroplane. Selecting a favorable
site for the experiments with the aëroplane required time, and dinner
was ready at the post before Matt and Cameron had picked out a spot
which they considered most favorable for the initial trials.
Following dinner, Matt and McGlory, in their working togs, and
accompanied by the lieutenant, hustled down the hill to begin work with
the aëroplane.