Chapter XVI

A RECONCILIATION.

McGlory aroused himself for a moment, and learned what the excitement was all about. Straightway he forgot his physical ills and became absorbed in the wonderful race Motor Matt was running with death. By every trick in his power the king of the motor boys was doing his utmost to urge the Sprite onward. The boat's speed became a terrific dash, a headlong hustle, with wind and wave helping the propeller.

"We'll never make it!" groaned George.

"Buck up, George!" cried McGlory. "Motor Matt has done harder things than this."

"But the Stella will be on the rocks before we can get to her! And there's the governor, likely to meet his fate right under my eyes! Oh, what a scoundrel I have been! Seeing the governor like this, perhaps for the last time, makes me realize what I have done. He was crossing the lake to find me, Joe."

George's voice died to a whisper and ended in a dry sob.

"Pull yourself together, I tell you!" roared McGlory. "Now's the time to show yourself a man!"

"Yell to them to stand ready to throw a rope," said Matt, between his teeth. "We can't get alongside of them before they hit the rocks, but we can come near enough so we can catch a rope if there's a strong enough arm to pass it."

Lorry cast aside his overpowering doubts and fears and flung himself into the fight with demoniacal energy.

"Stand ready with a rope!" he yelled, trumpeting through his hands and doing his best to make his voice heard above the roar and crash of the waves.

Again and again he repeated it, and McGlory joined in, timing his voice with his cousin's.

One of the men who had been working at the engine suddenly left his thankless labor and placed himself well forward on the Stella at the point nearest to the approaching Sprite.

"Make ready to grab the rope, both of you!" shouted Matt. "If you're lucky enough to grab it, take a half-hitch around the stern stanchion, and lay back on the end of the rope with every ounce of power in your bodies! There, stand by! They're going to throw!"

Matt shifted the wheel and, for a minute, placed the Sprite broadside on to wind and waves. This gave the man with the rope a better mark.

Out shot the coil of hemp, but the resistance of the wind caused it to fall pitifully short.

A cry of despair went up from Lorry.

"Once more!" yelled McGlory, as Matt pointed the Sprite straight for the Stella and flung her onward.

The man rapidly coiled the rope in his hands. Another man stepped forward and took the rope to make the next cast himself. He was a more powerfully built man than the one who had attempted the first cast.

"This will tell the story," cried George. "If this throw fails the Stella will be smashed to pieces on the bluff."

Matt and McGlory knew that fully as well as Lorry; and those on the Stella must have realized it.

The man with the rope was cool and deliberate. It was plain he was not going to waste any valuable chances by undue haste; then, as he was whirling the rope to let it fly, Matt again turned the Sprite broadside on.

For an instant it looked as though the rope was again to fall short; but Lorry, stretching far out from the side of the Sprite, snatched the end of the rope out of the air with convulsive fingers, and fell with it to the bottom of the boat.

A faint cheer went up from those on the Stella.

But the battle was not yet won. McGlory went to the assistance of Lorry, and the slack of the cable was jerked out of the water. This gave sufficient rope for a half-hitch around the stanchion and a firm hand hold. The cowboy and his cousin lay back on the line, bracing their feet against the thwarts and clinging with all their strength.

Motor Matt, meanwhile, had been busy with his part of the work. The instant the rope was made fast, he had shifted the bow of the Sprite, switching off the power for a moment in order to lessen the shock when the launch should begin to feel the pull.

Yet even with this precaution the shock was tremendous. But nothing gave way, and slowly but surely the Sprite took up her burden.

For a few moments the two boats seemed to stand stationary, the power of the Sprite just counterbalancing the push of wind and wave against both boats; then, a little later, the Sprite began to move, gathering headway by slow degrees.

Anything like speed was out of the question, but the Sprite, without missing a shot, plowed her way like a tugboat through the churning waters, and brought herself and her tow safely along the yacht club's pier.

Matt and McGlory, busy making the Sprite fast, caught a glimpse of George rushing across the pier to meet his father.

"George!" shouted the elder man.

"Dad!" cried George.

And they came together, gripping each other's hands. With arms locked they walked the length of the pier and vanished inside the yacht club's headquarters.

"Reconciliation?" queried McGlory. "If it isn't, I don't know the brand. Oh, I reckon Uncle Dan will do the right thing by George. That cold blast of mine will have to be permanently retired. Matt, give us your paw! This is a grand day for the Lorry tribe!"

"No doubt about that, Joe," answered Matt, with feeling, as he and McGlory shook hands.

Half an hour later Matt went into the yacht club to telephone police headquarters about his stolen money. He had only a very faint hope of ever seeing the money again, but he felt it his duty to do everything possible to recover it.

Over the 'phone he gave a description of Big John, Ross, and Kinky.

The man at the other end of the line had just promised to do what he could when Matt was caught by a strong hand and turned around. He was once more face to face with Lorry, Sr. But there was a difference in the Lorry of Matt's first and second meeting.

"By gad!" cried Lorry, "I want to shake hands with a hero. Nobly done, young man! But for you we'd have gone to smash against Maple Bluff, every last one of us on the Stella. We had our little differences when we met, that other time, Motor Matt, but I didn't understand the matter then. George here has been telling me how much he owes to you, how much I owe to you, how much I owe to him, and we all owe to McGlory, and everybody owes to everybody else. Gad! my head is fair splitting with it all. Never mind that three hundred that was taken away from you; I guess"—and the rich man laughed—"that my bank account is good for three hundred. I'll see that you don't lose anything. We'll have more talk about this later."

Lorry, Sr., turned to where McGlory was standing, at Matt's side, his black eyes gleaming humorously.

"Ah, Joe, you rascal," went on Lorry, placing two hands on the cowboy's shoulders, "you've done something to make us all proud of you—and I guess you'll find it out before you're many days older."

"What are you going to do for George, uncle?" queried McGlory.

"You watch! Keep your eyes skinned and you'll see me do something for you as well as for George."

Lorry, Sr., pushed himself between Matt and McGlory and caught each of them by an arm.

"Come on, my lads!" said he, "you're both going up to the house with George and me. This is a happy day, and the Lorrys are going to celebrate. Naturally, the celebration won't be complete without Motor Matt and Joe. Never mind your boat—I've asked the people here to look after it. Gus is outside with the big car, and all we've got to do is to get in and strike out for home. Home! How does that sound to you, my son?"

"It has a truer ring, dad," answered George, "than it ever had before."

"Maybe it's a different home, George," answered Mr. Lorry. "Anyhow, we'll try to make it so."

THE END.

THE NEXT NUMBER (23) WILL CONTAIN

MOTOR MATT'S PRIZE;

OR,

THE PLUCK THAT WINS.

A Clash in Black and Yellow—Pickerel Pete's Revenge—A "Dark Horse"—Plans—An Order to Quit—Facing the Music—Gathering Clouds—The Plotters—Firebugs at Work—Saving the "Sprite"—Out of a Blazing Furnace—What About the Race?—Mart Rawlins Weakens—The Race—The Start—The Finish—Conclusion.

MOTOR STORIES

THRILLING ADVENTUREMOTOR FICTION

NEW YORK, July 24, 1909.

TERMS TO MOTOR STORIES MAIL SUBSCRIBERS.

(Postage Free.)

Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each.

3 months65c.

4 months85c.

6 months$1.25

One year2.50

2 copies one year4.00

1 copy two years4.00

How to Send Money—By post-office or express money-order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage-stamps in ordinary letter.

Receipts—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once.

Ormond G. Smith, George C. Smith, }Proprietors. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City.