"Why not?" flamed Clipperton. "I got you into the trouble. I was afraid you might think I knew what Perry and the rest were doing. I didn't. It was a put-up job, but I didn't know until too late. I—I could kill Perry! He told me to write that letter. Said he'd keep his hands off and stay away. You saw how he did it."
Swirling hate poured out with the words. Clipperton was breathing hard and talked in husky gasps.
"You were to do that mile race at two o'clock," said Matt.
"I did a twenty-mile race; somewhat earlier."
"Why, that race was as good as a hundred dollars to you!"
"If I win this it'll please me more."
"You've won it, Clip," said Matt, in a low tone. "You've got me away from that hut."
"I haven't won it!" cried Clipperton. "It's won when you face the starter on your wheel and cut out Perry. The coyote!"
"You've found out about Perry?"
Clipperton muttered something in a savage undertone. Matt put out his hand and Clipperton clasped it quickly.