UNWELCOME CALLERS.

Once more, during the course of that eventful day, Ping was to be congratulated on his quickness and wit. McGlory had gone to the door to make his survey of what was transpiring inside the sod shack, and Ping had approached a window. The revolver shot caused the Chinese boy to jump, and to debate in his startled mind whether it would be better to run, or to hold his ground. He held his ground and used the stone—to the lasting benefit of Joe McGlory.

Now, at last, it seemed, the brawling and the violence was over. Murgatroyd lay in the place where Matt had lain, Newt Prebbles was bathing his injured head in a basin of cool water, and Matt, McGlory, and Ping were sitting down and explaining to each other how everything had happened.

"You were foolish to talk like you did to Murgatroyd, when he had the best of you, Matt," said McGlory.

"He didn't have the best of me," asserted Matt. "I had made a friend by that talk, and the friend was Newt Prebbles."

"That's the truth," spoke up Newt, turning his head for a look at Matt.

"Well, then," bristled McGlory, "maybe you'll explain why you helped Murgatroyd down Matt, in the first place?"

"I was to blame there," answered Newt, "but I didn't understand the situation. Everything had been sprung on me all of a heap, as you might say, and I was dazed and bewildered. Murgatroyd had come here because I had written and asked him to. He had money for me, as I supposed, and I considered myself in duty bound to help him. Later, when Motor Matt did his talking, I discovered some things which put up the bars between Murgatroyd and me. That last thump on the head, of course, topped off the whole affair. Murgatroyd was crazy mad, that's all. He hit me with something harder than his bare knuckles. Was it the handle of his revolver?"

"Maybe it was this," and McGlory leaned forward and picked a pair of brass knuckle dusters off the clay floor.

"That's what he used," declared Prebbles.

"I have always feared," said Matt, "that our dealings with Murgatroyd would end in some violent work, like this. And it was all for a hundred and sixty acres of coal land, which would have netted Murgatroyd only a few thousand dollars, at the most!"

The broker's anger had vanished with his capture, and left him miserable in spirit; but, even now, while his fortunes were at lowest ebb, his crafty mind led him to think of some way out of his troubles.

"You've got me," said he, with a bitter laugh. "I didn't think you lads could do it, but you've turned the trick. Are you any better off?"

"Speak to me about that!" muttered McGlory. "Matt's a heap better off. I don't know what you were going to do, when Ping and I showed up, but I'm feeling a whole lot easier to have this matter just as it is."

"So am I better off," put in Newt Prebbles. "I've led a hard life, and I've been a hard man, but I'm the only one to blame for that. And I know this: Association with Amos Murgatroyd, for any length of time, is an excellent passport to the penitentiary."

"That's right, Newt," said the broker scathingly. "You know on which side your bread is buttered. Get on the side of the winning team, by all means. But I wasn't talking to you or McGlory, but to Motor Matt."

His voice changed to a pleading tone.

"I'm wrecked, Motor Matt," he went on, "if you turn me over to the authorities. There's nothing in my past life that's so very criminal. Of course, knowing what I did about the Traquair homestead, I was anxious to get hold of it. But that's out of my power, now. You've been put to a good deal of inconvenience, but I'll make that all up to you in dollars and cents if you'll take these ropes off me and let me clear out."

"You say," said Matt, "that there's nothing in your past that is so very criminal. If that's so, why are you afraid to face the music? Why do you want to shirk the consequences?"

"Even a short term of imprisonment will ruin my loan business," answered Murgatroyd. "I have built that business up very carefully, and I hate to see it go to smash. I tell you what I'll do. If you'll release me, I'll wipe out that mortgage of one thousand dollars which I hold on the Traquair homestead, and I'll give you and your friends a thousand apiece, all around. What do you say?"

"I'm sorry for you, Murgatroyd," said Matt, "but I haven't any authority to set you free, even if I was inclined that way. It's the government that wants you; and the government wants you so much that a price has been placed on your head. You've danced, and now you've got to pay the fiddler."

"He says he hasn't done anything so very criminal," remarked Newt Prebbles, as he tied a handkerchief around his head. "I'd like to know what he calls criminal."

"Well," sneered the broker, "I haven't been bribed for keeping what I know away from the authorities."

"As I was bribed," retorted Newt hotly, "with money my own father paid you for forged duebills!"

Murgatroyd laughed, and it was the laugh of a wretch utterly devoid of conscience.

"That was rather a neat play of mine," said he. "But you haven't given me your answer yet, Motor Matt."

"Yes, I have," said Matt. "You're going to Fort Totten."

"And so am I," put in Newt Prebbles, "just as quick as I can get there. I'll take Murgatroyd's horse and ride to Bismarck. There's a night train I can catch for Jamestown, and I ought to be at the post some time before noon, to-morrow."

"You can't get there any too quick," observed McGlory caustically.

He had no liking for Newt Prebbles. A man who would do what Newt Prebbles had done could never stand very high in the cowboy's estimation.

"You'd better watch that fellow, Motor Matt," called Murgatroyd. "He'll not go to the post, but will clear out for parts unknown."

"He'll go to the post, I'm sure of it," said Matt.

"I will," declared Newt. "My father and I never agreed very well, but I guess that was my fault, too. When you leave here, Motor Matt, just lock the door and bring the key. I don't know whether I'll ever come back to this shack or not—I don't think I will, as I feel now—but it will be well for me to have the key. Good-by."

He stepped toward the king of the motor boys and extended his hand.

"Haven't you forgotten something, Newt?" inquired Matt.

Prebbles gave him a blank look. The next moment he understood what Matt had reference to, and pulled a jingling bag from his pocket and tossed it upon the table.

"That's the whole of it," he said. "You'll see that it is returned?"

Matt nodded.

"That means that I'll have to walk to Totten, or ride Murgatroyd's horse," Prebbles added, as he moved toward the door.

Matt was about to lend him the money for his railroad ticket, when a form darkened the door and stepped into the room.

"Goin' somewheres?" queried a voice. "Well, I wouldn't, George—not jest yet."

It was Jed Spearman. Behind him came Slim, and back of Slim trailed the cowboy who had been referred to as "Hen."

Matt, greatly alarmed, sprang up and stepped forward.

"Don't lay a hand on that man, Spearman," said Matt. "His father is sick at Fort Totten, and he's got to go there in a hurry."

"Oh, ho!" guffawed the foreman. "If here ain't Motor Matt, who was flyin' this way on gov'ment bizness! An' the chink that run off with the guns, an' t'other chap as lit out with our live stock. Waal, now, ain't this here a pleasin' surprise—fer us? Don't git vi'lent, any o' ye. Three o' us is in here, and thar's three more watchin' on the outside. I reckon the boot's on the other leg, this deal, hey, Slim?"

"I reckon," agreed Slim. "This is a whole lot funnier than that other game, over on the coteau."

"Don't ye ask us ter put down our guns an' do no more pushin'," said Spearman. "Ye kain't work that joke on us twicet, hand-runnin'. We've cut our eyeteeth, we hev. Got any weppins among ye?"

Newt Prebbles, glaring at the Tin Cup men, had backed into a corner. He had his eye on the broken window, and Spearman observed his intention.

"Don't ye never try that, George," he grinned. "Ye'd be riddled like a salt shaker afore ye'd hit the ground."

"Spearman," said Matt, "you don't understand this matter. If you did——"

"Thar was some parts o' it I didn't onderstand none too well, back thar on the hill, a few hours ago. But ye heered me say we'd cut our eyeteeth, didn't ye? I meant jest that."

"I came here on government duty, just as I said," went on Matt, "and if you interfere with me in any way, you'll regret it."

"Will I? Waal, life is plumb full o' sorrers an' regrets. Who's the gent on the floor?"

"I'm a helpless victim of these young scoundrels," said Murgatroyd plaintively. "Release me, gentlemen, and do an act of simple justice!"

"His name is Murgatroyd," corrected Matt, "and the government has offered a reward of a thousand dollars for his capture."

"That's your story fer it, young man. I ain't takin' your word fer nothin'. Slim, step over an' cut the gent loose."

Slim started. Matt stepped in front of him.

"Leave that man alone!" ordered Matt. "You fellows, I suppose," he continued, turning to Spearman, "have come here after the money Prebbles took from you at the ranch. He was leaving it with me to deliver to you, just as you came."

"Likely yarn," scoffed Jed Spearman, taking a chair in the doorway. "Consider yerselves pris'ners, all o' ye. We ain't so terribly het up over Motor Matt, and we ain't so mad at t'other feller or the chink as we mout be, seein' as how they left us our hosses an' guns an' then trailed straight fer this place whar we diskiver George Hobbes. It's Hobbes we want, an' I tell ye plain we're goin' ter play bob with him afore we're done. That's flat."