Chapter XVI

THE RAJAH'S NIECE.

The events of that wonderful day all seemed like a dream to Motor Matt when he came to look back on them. The coming of Carl, loaded with a joke sprung upon him by the detectives in Chicago—a joke, by the way, that proved a boomerang—and the dangers and perils that trailed after the Dutch boy and finally ended in most marvelous success—all these seemed but the figments of disordered fancy.

But the damaged aëroplane remained to tell of the dangers, and Carl was there in the flesh, and Margaret Manners was present, freed of the evil shadow that had blighted her young life.

The afternoon performance had been over for some time when Matt, Joe, Carl, and Margaret—for now she must be Margaret and not Haidee—returned to the show grounds.

The owner of the motor car was walking up and down in fretful mood, thinking, perhaps, that he had done a most unwise thing in letting his machine get out of his hands.

Burton was with him and seeking to pacify his fears. But the sight of the motor car alone did that.

"Well," exclaimed Burton, "you've got one of 'em, Matt. She is the most valuable of the lot, to me. Where are the other two?"

"They escaped," answered Matt shortly. "And Haidee, Mr. Burton, is no longer an employee of the Big Consolidated."

"What!" cried Burton. "Do you mean to say she isn't going up on the aëroplane any more, and that she'll not touch off Roman candles or——"

"I told you she'd never do that, some time ago," said Matt keenly.

Burton seemed to have a way of forgetting the things he did not want to hear.

"Well, anyhow," went on the showman, as soon as they had all alighted, and the owner of the car had got into it and tooted joyfully away, "come to the mess tent and tell me what happened."

"Haven't time, Burton," said Matt. "Miss Manners is going to the best hotel in town, and I've got some telegrams to send."

"Telegrams?" Burton pricked up his ears and showed signs of excitement. "There isn't another show trying to hire you away from me, is there? Don't forget your written contract, Matt!"

"I'm not forgetting that," returned Matt, inclined to laugh. "The telegram I am going to send is to the British ambassador at Washington, and the cablegram I am going to get on the wires is to an attorney in London, England."

"Jupiter!" exclaimed Burton. "It looks to me as though you wouldn't get through in time to go on with section two of the show train."

"We won't," continued Matt, "and that's what I'm going to tell you about. We'll be a couple of days making repairs on the aëroplane, and we'll make them here. After the work is done, we'll join the Big Consolidated at the town where it happens to be at that time."

"Your contract, sir!" fumed Burton. "You are——"

"No repairs on the aëroplane would have been necessary," interrupted Motor Matt, "if you had not played that trick on me and substituted Haidee for Le Bon. Just remember that. I shall expect you to pay the bills for the repairs, too."

Burton received these remarks in silence.

"When I and my friends are ready to join you," went on the king of the motor boys, "we'll go by air line in the Comet, and if you have any good paper, we'll scatter it all along the route. It will be the biggest kind of an advertisement for you, Burton."

This was a master stroke, if Burton yearned for one thing more than another, it was to make his name a household word.

"Great!" he cried. "But you won't be more than two days here, will you, Matt?"

"We'll try not to be."

"And you'll scatter the paper?"

"Certainly."

"Fine! I'll have it for you. Where'll I send it?"

"To the Bramble House."

"It will be there. Make the bill for repairs as light as possible, and draw on me for the amount. That's fair, ain't it?"

"Just about."

"Ask anybody and they'll tell you Boss Burton is the soul of honesty, and that every promise he makes in his paper is carried out to the letter. What will you do with the aëroplane?"

"McGlory and Ping will look after it to-night. Tomorrow they will have it removed to some place where we can work on it comfortably."

"All right—have it your way. I'm the easiest fellow to get along with that you ever saw, when I see a chap is going to treat me square. Good luck to you—to all of you."

The party separated. McGlory went over into the show grounds to join Ping at the aëroplane, and Matt and Carl escorted Miss Manners to the Bramble House. Carl went to the show, when the tents were being pulled down that night, and got Miss Manners' trunk and his own clothes from the calliope tent. Carl, it will be recalled, was wearing McGlory's work clothes, and McGlory was going to need them.

Most of the luggage belonging to Matt and his friend went on by train with the show impedimenta, to be reclaimed at some town farther along the route.

Matt sent his telegram and his cablegram, and in neither did he conceal the fact that all the glory of the achievement belonged to Carl Pretzel.

The Dutch boy was terribly set up over his success. Until far into the night he kept Matt up, trying to find out what he should do with his five thousand dollars. Carl was about evenly divided, in his opinions, as to whether he should buy an aëroplane of his own, or a circus. Matt discouraged him on both points.

Next morning the Comet, under its own power, dragged its battered pinions to a big blacksmith shop, and there the motor boys got actively to work on the repairs.

The damage was confined almost entirely to the canvas covering the left wing. None of the supports were injured.

In two days' time the aëroplane was as good as new. At the close of the second day, when Matt and McGlory reached the hotel with their work finished, so far as the Comet was concerned, they found an English gentleman who represented the British embassy.

This gentleman had come, personally, to assume charge of Miss Manners; and, by this very act, the boys understood that the young woman was something of a personage.

The Englishman said nothing about the reward, and Carl began to worry. Finally he broached the subject himself, only to learn that the five thousand dollars must come from India, and that it would be a month, possibly two months, before it could be turned over.

Carl was disgusted. He had expected to have the money all spent before two months had passed.

"Dot's der vay mit der tedectif pitzness," he remarked gloomily. "Even ven you vin you don't get nodding."

"But you're bound to get it, Carl," laughed McGlory, "sooner or later."

"Meppy so mooch lader dot I vill be olt und gray-heated und not know nodding aboudt how to shpend him. How vas I going to lif in der meandime, huh? Tell me dose."

"Come along with us," said Matt, "and stay with the Big Consolidated until your money comes."

"I don'd like dot Purton feller," growled Carl. "He iss der vorst case oof stingy vat I efer see. Shdill, id iss vort' someding to be mit Modor Matt. Yah, so helup me, I vill go."

Ping was not in love with this arrangement, but had to bow to it.

The gentleman from Washington took the next train back to the capital, arranging to have Miss Manners left in the care of an estimable lady in Lafayette until word should come from India.

THE END.

THE NEXT NUMBER (28) WILL CONTAIN

Motor Matt's "Short Circuit"

OR,

THE MAHOUT'S VOW.

The Serpent Charmer—A Bad Elephant—Burton's Luck—Motor Matt's Courage—Dhondaram's Excuse—Robbery—Between the Wagons—A Peg to Hang Suspicions On—A Waiting Game—A Trick at the Start—In the Air With a Cobra—A Scientific Fact—Ping On the Wrong Track—Facing a Traitor—Meeting the Hindoo—A Bit of a Backset

MOTOR STORIES

THRILLING ADVENTUREMOTOR FICTION

NEW YORK, August 28, 1909.

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