Without seeming to pay the girl more than passing attention, the young motorist turned toward the man in the chair.
"Well?" said he, crisply. "What have you got to say about this, Brady? I guess you could be arrested for what you've done, all right."
Brady laughed.
"How's a policeman coming up here to get at me?" he asked. "An air-ship is a great thing for a fellow who wants to turn a few tricks in spite of the law."
"That's your game, is it? Well, what have you to gain by running off with me? I told you I didn't have that roll of papers."
"I'm out the blue prints, but I'm in a good motorist. I'll not be able to improve the Hawk according to Jerrold's plans, but I guess I've got hold of a driver that's good enough to make up for most of the improvements."
"If you think I'm going to drive this car for you," said Matt, "you're away off in your calculations."
"That's what you think now, but you'll change your tune before long," said Brady, easily. "I know this air-ship pretty well, and I installed the motor. All it needed for that was a good machinist and a good inventor. I'm not a good driver, though, and I've picked you for the job. The offer I made back at the house goes. Five hundred a month. Pretty good pay, eh, for a boy of your age?"
"I don't care how much you offer, Brady. As I have already told you, no amount of money could hire me to work for you. You're a scoundrel, clear through. What you've done to-night proves it.
"Bear a little to the left, Brady!" called Pete, who was evidently on the lookout. "You're getting too far to the north."