[CHAPTER II.]
UNDERHAND WORK.
That was not the first time Matt King had met Dirk Hawley. The man was highly successful in his nefarious profession, owned a gambling-house in Phœnix, and Matt knew, from personal observation, that he was both tricky and unscrupulous. During the recent Phœnix-Prescott athletic meet Hawley had tried to bribe Matt to withdraw from the bicycle-race, and had even gone so far as to have him abducted from Phœnix, in order to keep him out of it. The gambler, in conjunction with an enemy of Matt's named Dace Perry, had "plunged" heavily on the Prescott contestant, and only Matt's timely arrival at the track had saved the day for Phœnix.[A]
[A] See Motor Matt Weekly No. 1 for an account of Matt's exciting dash of twenty miles from the hills into Phœnix, and his arrival at the track in time to race with O'Day, the Prescott champion, and win the prize in the bicycle contest—a seven-horse-power motor-cycle. The story was entitled "Motor Matt; or, The King of the Wheel."
Because of all this, there was little love lost between Hawley and Matt. The gambler's face, as he stood on the bridge with one hand outstretched, was full of anger and determination. Matt eyed him coolly. With a muttered imprecation, Hawley snatched at the letter, but Matt stepped back quickly and thrust the missive behind him.
"What d'you mean?" panted Hawley savagely.
"I mean that this letter isn't yours," replied Matt. "It's addressed to my chum, Mark McReady."
"Never you mind who it's addressed to. I say it's mine, and that's all you need to know. Give it here! This ain't the first time your trail's crossed mine, young feller, an' I'm gittin' mighty tired of havin' you butt in an' try to give me the double-cross. If you know when you're well off you'll mind your own business—if you've got any to mind. Gi'me that, an' no more foolishness!"
Hawley finished with a snap of his big, protruding lower jaw. He was a man accustomed to having his way, and from his manner it was plain that he intended to have it now. But if he was determined, so was Matt; and there was a glint in Motor Matt's gray eyes which Hawley would have done well to heed.