Motor Matt; or, The King of the Wheel Read online

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE TRY-OUT.

  "There he is, Jack!" exclaimed Major Woolford, leaning across therailing of the judges' stand and pointing; "that's the youngster I wastelling you about. By gad, he's the speediest thing that ever happenedwhen it comes to a bike. Give him a sizing, Jack, and then take offyour hat to Young America at its best. You see, I know what he cando, and I'm the one who told Carter to bring him to the track for atry-out. Walks like he was on springs and handles himself without aparticle of lost motion--every move decisive and straight to the mark.Oh, I don't know! As long as the Old Star-Spangled-Long-May-it-Wave cangive us lads like that I reckon the country's safe."

  The major slipped his stop-watch into one pocket of his vest and pulleda cigar-case out of another. As he passed the case to his friend,Governor Gaynor, he noticed an amused smile on the governor's face.The major was president, and the governor an honorary member, of thePhoenix Athletic Club.

  "Protege of yours, major?" inquired the governor, striking a match.

  "Not much, Jack," answered the major. "I don't believe in proteges,favorites, or any other brand of humbug that leads to the door marked'pull.' Give me a young fellow that stands on his own feet--the kindthat does his own climbing, Jack, without wasting valuable time lookingaround for some one to give him a boost. That's the sort of a chap MattKing is. Just keep your eye on him."

  Below the judges' stand, in front of which ran the tape, a crowd offorty or fifty persons had assembled. Fully half the crowd was madeup of members of the club, young, middle-aged, and a few with grayin their hair--all devotees of clean, wholesome American sport. Theother half of the crowd consisted mostly of high-school boys who werefurnishing the majority of candidates for the try-out.

  Matt, to whom the major had called the governor's attention, hadleaped lightly over the fence that guarded the farther side of thetrack. Lined up just back of the fence were Susie McReady, Chub andWelcome Perkins. They had come to see the try-out, hoping against hopethat something would happen to make Matt change his mind and become acandidate in the bike event. Leaning against the top rail of the fence,Matt stood watching the busy officers of the club and listening to theincessant clamor of the high-school boys.

  "'Rah! 'rah! 'rah! Do or die! Phoenix! Phoenix! Phoenix High!"

  The athletic clubs of both Phoenix and Prescott were for theencouragement of amateurs. Professionals were barred. The clubs couldpick up material for their rival contests wherever they chose so longas they did not enlist any one who had ever competed for a money prize.

  There was an odd expression on Matt King's open, handsome face as helooked and listened--a touch of wistfulness, it might be, softening thealmost steelly resolution of his gray eyes.

  "What do you know about him, major?" asked the governor, staring acrossthe track through the cigar-smoke and feeling an instinctive admirationfor the trim, boyish figure in cap, sweater and knickerbockers.

  "Our acquaintance lasted less than an hour, and was mighty informal,"chuckled the major. "I was returning from the Indian School inmy motor-car, about a week ago, when along comes that boy on hiswheel. He tried to go by, and--well, when I'm out for a spin in thatsix-thousand-dollar car I'm not letting anything on hoofs or wheelsthrow sand in my face. I tells the driver to speed her up, and byand by we have the boy's legs working like piston-rods. He was stillabreast of us when some confounded thing or other slips a cog under thebonnet; then we begin to sputter and buckjump, and finally stop dead.The boy gives us the laugh and goes on.

  "Mike, my driver, gets out to locate the injury. But it's too many forMike. He was just telling me he'd have to go to the nearest farmhouseand telephone the garage, when the boy on the wheel comes trundlingback. He asks me as nice as you please if there's anything the matter,and if he can't help us out. I was just about to tell him that he hadanother guess coming if he thought he could make good where Mike hadfallen down, when he slips out of his saddle, makes a couple of passesat the machinery, closes the bonnet and begins to crank up. Mike gotback in his seat and laughed like he thought it was a good joke; thenhe pretty near threw a fit when the machine jogged off as well as ever.The boy gave us the laugh again, this time from the rear. And that'show he happened to make a hit with me. I've heard that he knows moreabout motors than----"

  "All ready, boys!" came the voice of the starter.

  Dace Perry and two other boys had their wheels at the tape, but MattKing continued to lean against the fence and made no move to comeforward.

  "Hurry up, King!" shouted the starter. "What's the matter with you?"

  "I haven't a wheel any more, Mr. Carter," answered Matt, "and I'm not acandidate. That's what I came out here to tell you."

  "Not a candidate?" boomed the major, from up in the stand. "Don't youknow the prize that goes to the winner in this event when we meetPrescott is as good as two hundred and fifty dollars? It's not a moneyprize, for we don't intend to make professionals out of you boys,but----"

  "He's lost his nerve, that's what's the matter with him."

  The words were so uncalled for, and the taunt in the voice so vicious,that every eye turned at once on the speaker. The captain of thecross-country team, arms folded and hostile gaze leveled at Matt, stoodleaning against his machine.

  "Quitter!" scoffed a voice in the crowd.

  "Dry up, Perry!" called the starter. "You too, Spangler. Neither of youhas any call to butt in."

  Matt left the fence and advanced slowly across the track toward Perry.

  "I've lost my nerve, have I, Dace Perry?" Matt inquired, with ahalf-laugh.

  "What else do you call it?" demanded Perry, keeping his black eyeswarily on the other's face.

  As Matt stood staring at Perry his expression changed to one of theutmost good humor. Finally, with a broad smile, he turned to thestarter.

  "It looks as though Perry was going to be lonesome, Mr. Carter," saidhe, "if I don't ride with him. Can you dig up a wheel for me?"

  Half a dozen in the high-school crowd set up a yell. "Take mine, Matt;take mine!"

  "I know something about yours, Splinters," went on Matt, facing one ofthe lads, "and if you'll oblige me I'll spin it around the track."

  "You bet!" chirruped Splinters, bounding away.

  "I didn't come here for a try-out, Mr. Carter," said Matt, "but I don'twant Perry or any one else to think that I'm a quitter or that my nerveis giving out. Can I ride in this race even if I shouldn't be able tomeet the fellow from Prescott when the big event is pulled off?"

  "What's the use of jockeying around like that?" grumbled Dace Perry."What's the use of a try-out if the fellow that makes good don't holddown his end at the big meet?"

  Carter was in a quandary, and cast an upward look toward Major Woolford.

  "What do you say to that, major?" he asked.

  "If we select you to represent the Phoenix Athletic Club in thebicycle-race, Matt," inquired the major, "why can't we count on you tobe on hand and see the thing through?"

  A touch of red ran into Matt's face.

  "I may not be in Phoenix when the Prescott fellows come down, major,"he replied.

  "I'll take chances on that," growled the major. "Try him out, Carter."

  Splinters, at that moment, came up with his machine. "I was going intothis myself, Matt," said he, with a significant look at Perry, "butchanged my mind. My racing-clothes are over in the dressing-room. Theywouldn't be overly wide for you, but they'd be plenty long."

  "Much obliged, Splinters," returned Matt, rolling the bicycle to thetape, "but I'll race as I stand."

  A moment more and the four boys were shoved away at the crack of thestarter's pistol. The major, watch in hand, followed the flight aroundthe track with eager eyes.

  "See him go, Jack!" he cried. "Why, that boy is off like a scaredcoyote making for home and mother. Dace Perry hasn't a ghost of a show."

  The track measured a mile, and was a perfect oval. There were no treesto intercept the vision, and every part of the course could
be seen bythe major and the governor.

  At the quarter Matt was the length of his wheel ahead of Perry, andPerry was the same distance ahead of the foremost racer behind him.At the half the distance, so far as Matt and Perry were concerned,remained the same, but the other two racers were hopelessly in the rear.

  "Look at Perry work!" rumbled the major. "He's got his back up like aKilkenny cat on the fence, and I can almost hear him puff clear overhere. But that King boy has him beaten to a frazzle. Look at the _form_of him, will you? Great! Man alive, it's just simply _superb_!"

  "There doesn't seem to be any love lost between King and Perry,"observed the governor, following the major as he pushed excitedlyaround the stand in order to keep the racers at all times under hiseyes.

  "The trouble with Perry," said the major, "is that he's got thedisposition of an Apache Indian. He wants to be the whole thing in thehigh school, and Matt King, during the short time he's been in town,has been boxing the compass all around him. Just look at the differencebetween the two, Jack. They're at the three-quarters post and arestill the same distance apart. King intends to beat Perry, but he'sconsiderate enough to hang back and win out by no more than a nose. Ifpositions were changed so that Perry was in the lead instead of King,I'll bet good money that----"

  Just at that moment, when the two leading racers were making theirfinal spurt along the home-stretch, and when every nerve was as tenseas a back-stay and every spectator had dropped into silence preparatoryto hailing the victor with all his lung power, a spiteful _crack_ cutthe air from some point below the grand stand.

  Simultaneously with the incisive note, Matt's bicycle was seen toswerve suddenly across Perry's path. Perry's wheel rushed into Matt'swith a rattling crash and both riders were flung to the ground withterrific force.

  "Great guns!" gasped the major, aghast. "I wonder if they're killed?"

  "We'd better go and find out," returned the governor grimly.

  Hurrying down the stairs, the major and the governor joined the excitedcrowd that was flocking toward the scene of the mishap.