THE MAJOR'S SURPRISE.
Well in the lead of those who were hurrying to the scene of the
disaster was Chub McReady, his feelings about evenly divided between
fear for Matt and anger because of the foul play that had caused the
accident. A little way behind Chub, in a rushing crowd of excited
high-school boys, came Welcome Perkins, his wooden peg traveling over
the ground as it had never done before. Susie was flying along not
far from Welcome, a look of wild alarm in her face. The major and the
governor were pretty well in the rear.
Matt had picked himself out of the wreck, before any of the crowd
reached the scene, and, with the assistance of the two other racers,
was lifting Dace Perry and carrying him to the grassy paddock beside
the track. Matt's clothes were torn, and there was a rent in his right
sleeve through which flowed a trickle of blood.
"Is he killed? How badly is he hurt? What caused the smash?"
These and a dozen other questions were flung at Matt by the breathless
crowd as Perry was laid down. Matt's face was white, but he did not
seem to be very seriously injured. Kneeling beside Perry he laid a hand
on his breast.
"He's all right, I guess," said he, looking up as the major elbowed his
way to Perry's side. "He's stunned, major," he added; "I don't think
it's any worse than that."
"Is there a doctor here?" called the major; "telephone for a doctor,
somebody! See if he has any broken bones, Carter. Egad, Matt, you two
fellows came together like a couple of railroad-trains. It's a wonder
you weren't both killed. What was that I heard just before your bicycle
ducked across in front of Perry's?"
"The tire blew up," answered Matt coolly.
"Something funny about that," put in Splinters, who was close to the
major. "Both tires are new. You didn't run over anything, did you,
Matt?"
"Some one fired a pistol," cried Chub; "nobody ever heard a tire pop
like that! It came from beyond the lower end of the grand stand.
Somebody put a bullet through that tire!"
"Nonsense!" scoffed the major. "What are you talking about, McReady?
Who'd do a dastardly thing like that? Besides, it would take a mighty
good marksman to put a bullet into a tire moving as fast as that one
was."
"Look a-here," fumed Welcome Perkins, "I don't reckon there's a man in
the hull Territory that's heard as much shootin' as what I have. I'm
tellin' ye a gun was fired, an' by the shade o' Gallopin' Dick, it was
fired at Matt there!"
"Clear out!" growled the major, "you're locoed. Who'd want to take a
shot at Matt King? What do _you_ think about it, my lad?" and the major
turned to Matt.
Matt had dropped down and Susie was pushing back his torn sleeve.
"The tire went up, major," said Matt quietly; "that's all I know about
it."
"See here," cried Susie, holding Matt's bare forearm for the major to
see, "Matt's hurt worse than Dace Perry."
"You're wrong, Susie," returned Matt hastily, "it's only a cut, and not
much of a cut at that. Please tie my handkerchief around it, will you?"
Matt jerked a handkerchief out of his pocket with his left hand and
Susie began tying it over the wound. While Perry was being pulled and
prodded in a search for broken bones, he suddenly opened his eyes and
sat up. There was a dazed look in his face, but he seemed to be all
right.
"How d'ye feel, Dace?" inquired Tubbits Drake anxiously, bending down
over Perry.
"I'm all right," replied Perry; "a little bit dizzy, that's all. King
fouled me! Did you see him as we started down the stretch?"
"Listen to that!" snorted Chub fiercely. "Some of your gang played a
low-down trick on Matt, Dace Perry, or he wouldn't have got in your
way."
"Tut, tut!" growled the major; "that's enough of that sort of talk. It
was an accident, and nothing more. King would have been an easy winner,
and there wasn't any cause for him to foul Perry. You boys are lucky to
get out of the scrape as well as you did. How are the wheels?"
"Perry's is pretty badly smashed," reported some one who had taken a
little time to look at the two bicycles, "but Tuohy's will be all right
with a little tinkering. There's a hole in the rear tire, and the track
is perfectly clean where the bicycles came together."
The significance of these words was not lost upon the crowd. Major
Woolford turned to Horton and Coggswell, two members of the club who
were making the race with Matt and Perry.
"You fellows were coming toward the lower end of the grand stand when
the accident happened," said he; "did you see any one there?"
"We were 'tending to our knitting strictly," answered Coggswell, "and
had no time to look at the grand stand. But we both thought we heard
the report of a revolver."
"You didn't, though," declared the major. "That report was the tire
when it let go. You'd better try another brand of tires, Tuohy."
As neither of the lads had been seriously injured it became necessary
that another trial be made in order to determine who was the better
man; and this time Matt started with grim determination in his eye,
never once being headed, so that he wheeled across the line ten yards
ahead of Dace.
This time there was no suspicious bursting of a tire, and at the
conclusion the major spoke up:
"King's our man for the fight with Prescott; and if anything happens
that he doesn't show up, we'll use Perry. That will be all for to-day.
Will you ride home with me, Jack?"
The major was trying bluffly to appear at his ease, but it was quite
clear that his mind was far from serene.
"My man is here with the horse and buggy, major," replied the governor,
"and I've got some important business awaiting me at the office. I
think you've picked a winner for the race with Prescott," and he gave
the major a significant look as he turned away.
Mike was coming up with the major's motor-car, and the proprietor
reached out and took Matt by the arm.
"I want you to ride back with me, King," said he, and in another minute
Matt was in the tonneau with the major beside him.
"Get the wheel fixed up, Splinters," called Matt; "I'll stand the
damage."
"No, you won't, old chap," answered Splinters. "You've stood enough
damage as it is."
"Home, Mike," said the major, and the car moved off across the track
and toward the wagon-road.
Matt waved his hand to Chub, Susie and Perkins; and members of the club
and some of the high-school boys stopped their heated discussion of the
cause of the accident long enough to give a rousing cheer.
"What's your candid opinion, King?" asked the major when the car had
left the park and was spinning along the highroad. "You're talking to a
friend, understand, and I want to get to the bottom of this."
"I haven't any opinion, major," said Matt. "You know as much as I do."
"But did you hear the report of a revolver?"
"I thought I did."
The major muttered savagely. "Have you any enemy lawless enough to take
that way of doing you up?"
"I don't think I have. We'd better let the thing stand just as it is, I
guess. There was no great harm done, if you count out the damage to the
wheels."
"By gad, I like your spirit! The thing has an ugly look, but for the
good of the club the less said about it the better. Sure your arm's all
right?"
"It will be as good as ever in a few days."
They met a doctor who had been telephoned for and was hurrying to the
park. The major turned him back with the information that his services
were not needed.
For the rest of the distance to his home the major leaned back in his
seat and said nothing. When they reached a street which was close to
the place where he boarded, Matt wanted to get out, but the major shook
his head mysteriously, and they rode on. In due course the car halted
in front of the small building which served for a garage, and the major
told Mike to leave the car outside and to go in "and bring out the
other machine."
"I've got something I want to show you, King," said Woolford, getting
out of the car, "and that's the reason I brought you here. If you're
the kind of a lad I believe you are, the surprise I'm going to spring
on you will keep you in Phoenix for that race with Prescott."
The major's mysterious manner aroused Matt's curiosity; then, a
few minutes later, his curiosity was eclipsed by astonishment and
admiration. Through the open door of the garage Mike was rolling a span
new motor-cycle!
Motors were Matt's hobby. Anything driven by a motor had always
appealed to him, but motor-cycles and motor-cars captured his fancy
beyond anything and everything else in the motor line.
"Great hanky-pank!" he exclaimed, as the machine, glossy and bright in
every part, was brought to a stop between him and the major.
"Like the looks of her?" laughed the major.
"She's a fair daisy and no mistake!" cried Matt delightedly.
The mass of compact machinery would have been puzzling to a boy who
knew nothing about gasoline motor-cycles, but Matt's sparkling eyes
went over the beautiful model part by part.
"It's one of the latest make and not being generally sold, as yet,"
explained the major, still smiling at the unfeigned pleasure the sight
of the mechanical marvel was giving Matt. "Notice the twin cylinders?
Seven horse-power, my boy. Think of that! Why, you could scoot away
from a streak of lightning on that bike. What do you think of her name,
eh?"
On the gasoline-tank, back of the saddle, the word _Comet_ was lettered
in gold.
"A good name for a racer," cried Matt, "and I'm Dutch if I ever saw
anything to equal her. She's a jim-dandy, major."
"I reckon you know how to ride one of the things, eh? Jump on and try
her a whirl."
"May I?" returned Matt, as though he thought the major's invitation too
good to be true.
"Sure!" laughed the major jovially. "She's full of gasoline and all you
have to do is to turn it on and throw in the spark."
Matt mounted while Mike steadied the machine; for a few moments he
worked the pedals and then, with a patter of sharp explosions, he
turned on the power and was off up the road like a bird on the wing.
It was a short spin, but the joy of it was not to be described. Every
part of the superb mechanism worked to perfection. Matt tried it on the
turns, tried it on a straightaway course, tried it in every conceivable
manner he could think of, and the machine answered promptly and
smoothly to his every touch. When he returned to the major and Mike,
Matt's face was glowing with happiness and excitement.
"How does she run?" asked the major.
"It's the slickest thing on wheels!" returned Matt enthusiastically. "I
never saw anything finer."
"How would you like to own her?"
Matt had got down from the saddle and Mike was steadying the machine.
The major's words staggered the lad.
"Own her?" cried Matt; "I?"
"Why not?" The major leaned toward him and dropped a hand on his
shoulder. "The _Comet_ goes to the winner of the bicycle-race. You can
own her, King, if you want to!"