"How much do I owe you for drawing up these papers?" Matt asked.
"Not a red!" was the prompt response. "Do you think I don't know what you are trying to do for Mrs. Traquair? And do you think I won't do as much as I can to help her? Why, I got Harry Traquair's patents through for him, and I'm proud to say that he was my friend. He knew Murgatroyd was a skinner, just as well as I did, and at the time of his death he was exhausting every effort to fit himself for making a 'go' of that deal at Totten. He was planning on using that money to get himself out of Murgatroyd's strangling grip. It looks like a special favor of Providence, Motor Matt, that you happened along here just when you did."
Reference to her husband brought tears into Mrs. Traquair's eyes. Stepping to Matt impulsively, she caught one of his hands.
"I appreciate what you are doing, Motor Matt," said she in a low tone, "and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I know the risks you are running, but somehow I have the utmost confidence that you are going to pass safely through them all, and please the officers at Fort Totten."
Matt was touched by the poor woman's gratitude. He pressed her hand cordially and reassuringly.
"I've gone into this thing to succeed, Mrs. Traquair," he answered, "and you may count on me to do my best."
"When do you go North?" asked the lawyer.
"We can't go before morning. The afternoon passenger has left, and we'll have to take the 'accommodation' at eight o'clock."
"Well, good-by, and good luck. If I can ever do anything for you here, in a legal way, don't hesitate to call on me."
Matthews gripped the young motorist's hand heartily, and the little party separated, the lawyer and Mrs. Traquair starting for Murgatroyd's office, while Matt and McGlory made their way back to the Gladstone House.