CHAPTER XI.

  FOUL PLAY.

  "I don't b'leeve in gamblin'," whispered Welcome, "an' bettin' is nextdoor to knockin' a human down an' goin' through his pockets; but that'swhat Dirk Hawley is doin'--bettin' right an' left two to one, three toone, any odds he can git, that"--and here Welcome grabbed Matt's arm ina convulsive grip and brought his face close to Matt's--"O'Day'll winthat race to-morrer! Ain't that scandalous? An' him a Phoenix man!"

  "Of course Hawley will bet," said Matt, "that's his business. I don'tbelieve in it, and I know Major Woolworth don't, but you can't keepit from figuring in athletic contests like those to-morrow. The majorplays the game for the game itself, while Hawley plays it for what hecan get out of it."

  "That ain't all," breathed Welcome. "If Hawley was bound to bet Ithought he ort to be bettin' on the best man--which is you. My, my, butI got in a twitter over the way Hawley was actin', an' I a'most hate totell ye how I cut loose, Matt."

  "Tell it, Welcome," urged Matt; "I'll try not to be shocked."

  "Well," and the old man gulped on the words as though they came hard,"I met that Spangler boy on the dark street alongside Hawley's placean'--an'--well, I was so chuck full o' that ole pirate feelin' I jestpulled Lucretia Borgia, pushed 'er in his face, an' axed him real crosswhat Hawley was doin', an' why. The Spangler boy gits the shakes rightoff, an' his teeth chatters as he unloads the news. Perry is bettin' onO'Day himself, an' Hawley has fixed it so's you won't race, Matt, an'Perry's agreed to throw the race. That's what the Spangler boy told me,an' he got down on his knees an' begged me not to let Hawley or Perryknow where I got the infermation. What d'ye think o' that?"

  Matt was startled. He might easily have inferred that Welcome wasmaking a mountain out of a mole-hill, as he was too apt to do, but forthe fact that there was evidence to support Welcome's story.

  Hawley had tried to get Matt out of town so he would not take partin the race. This, of course, was to throw the Phoenix chances ofwinning into Perry's hands, and thus make sure that O'Day would win.Perry's training had been only a "bluff" in order to make Phoenixpeople believe that he was preparing to do his best in case he had theopportunity to race with O'Day.

  The whole contemptible plot drifted through Matt's brain. The one thingthat puzzled him was how Hawley had planned to keep him out of therace. Here it was almost the eleventh hour and Hawley had not yet madeany move to keep Matt off the track--excepting, of course, that offerof a $500 bribe.

  "Somethin' has got to be did!" declared Welcome in an explosivewhisper. "It's up to you, pard."

  "Look here, Welcome," said Matt earnestly, "you leave this whole thingto me, and don't breathe a whisper of what you have found out to anyone, not even to Chub. I'll do everything that's necessary."

  "But, say----"

  "Not a word. Go on into the house, calm your turbulent spirit and letme handle the difficulty. I'm going to some place now, and can't stophere any longer. Mum it is, mind!" and Matt hurried on to the canal.

  Just below the bridge he waited until he heard the _pat_, _pat_ ofWelcome's wooden pin on the McReady front walk, then he turned to theleft, vaulted over a fence and started along the canal through thecottonwood-trees.

  Suddenly he paused, an idea plunging lightninglike through his brain.Was that letter of Tom Clipperton's merely a lure? Had Clippertonwritten it for the purpose of getting him into the hands of a gang ofroughs who would so handle him that he would be a candidate for thehospital rather than the track on the following day?

  Standing there on the canal-bank, with the moonlight sifting throughthe cottonwood branches in silver patches, Matt King did some hardthinking.

  He had always entertained a certain amount of respect for TomClipperton. He believed that Clipperton was square, and that there weresome things he would not do even while under the influence of DacePerry--and this in spite of what had happened at the try-out.

  Matt would have welcomed the chance to make Clipperton his friend, forhe believed there was more real manhood in the quarter-blood than inPerry and all the rest of his followers put together. The question withMatt now was, should he carry his trust in Clipperton to the limit, andgo on to the appointed place where he expected to find him alone?

  Matt King was absolutely fearless. Whenever he believed in a thinghe always had the courage of his convictions. It was so now. Havingreached a decision, he continued on through the moonlight. As hestepped into the small open space where the clash had occurred twoweeks before, a form untangled itself from the shadow of the trees andcame toward him. It was Clipperton.

  "You've come," said Clipperton, in a voice of satisfaction. "I didn'tknow whether you would or not. Thought you mightn't have the nerve.Throw off your coat."

  "Don't be in a rush, Clipperton," answered Matt. "I'm going to give youall the satisfaction you want before we leave here, but I'd like totalk a little before we get busy."

  "What's the good of talk? Either you're going to get a good licking orI am. Let's see which."

  "We'll see which in about two minutes. When we faced each other in thisplace nearly two weeks ago, you came here with Perry. I told all ofyou why Perry came----"

  "Perry told us, too. I'm taking Perry's word, not yours."

  "Of course," said Matt dryly. "Perry stands pretty high with you now,but there's going to be a change. You must know, Clipperton, that Ihave faith in you or I wouldn't be here to-night. It would be easy foryou to have a gang in ambush and beat me up so I wouldn't be able toleave my bed for a week----"

  A snarl rushed from Clipperton's lips. "If you think I'm enough of anIndian to do that----"

  "I don't."

  "Didn't I trust you, too? You could have brought McReady along. Are yougoing to strip?" There was angry impatience in Clipperton's voice.

  "There was a mistake about that rock," Matt went on coolly. "It wasn'tthrown at you, but at Perry."

  "Perry says different. That you threw it at me."

  "Perry is careless with the truth. Before we begin, let me give youyour rabbit's foot. If you ever needed it, you're going to need it now."

  Matt held out his hand. Clipperton said something and recoiled a step;then, slowly, he advanced and took the luck-bringer from Matt's fingers.

  "Where'd you get this?" asked Clipperton.

  "It was found under the grand stand where you dropped it when you firedat my wheel."

  Clipperton was silent, standing rigid and erect in the moonlight. Therewas a queer gleam in his eyes as he fixed them on Matt.

  "How many have you told that to?" he demanded.

  "Not one. If I had, you wouldn't be in that mile run to-morrow."

  As Matt finished speaking Clipperton leaped forward abruptly. "Lookout!" he called.

  Thinking Clipperton was going to attack him, Matt squared away and putup his hands. At that moment he was seized from behind and hurled tothe ground.

  "Stand off!" he heard Clipperton yell furiously. "He's here to fightme! What does this----"

  "Shut up, you fool!" threatened a voice, and was followed by a rush offeet in Clipperton's direction.

  Matt was struggling with all his might, but there were four boyscrushing him down and strangling him to prevent outcry. Who the boyswere he could not see, as there were handkerchief masks over theirfaces.

  "Quick!" muttered a voice. "Where's that rope?"

  Matt was turned roughly on his face, several hands fumbling at hiswrists and ankles and at least one pressing a cloth, soaked with somedrug, to his nostrils.

  Presently, as in a dream, he felt himself lifted and borne hurriedlyaway. His senses were rapidly leaving him, and he had no idea as towhat direction he was being taken. There was a mumble of voices inhis ears and sounds of stumbling feet. Presently he was lifted andcrumpled into a cushioned seat. A _chug chug_ of a starting enginecame faintly to his ears, and he felt a swift forward movement of theseat on which he was lying. The cloth was still covering his face andstifling him. Then, a moment more, everything became a blank.

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Stanley R. Matthews's Novels