"There's no other Matt King in Madison," protested the clerk, "and it's a cinch there's no other Motor Matt. You're the fellow the boat is for."
"But that charge!" exclaimed Matt. "It can't be for transportation alone. It must be a C. O. D. collection for part of the price of the boat. I haven't bought any boat, and am not expecting any one to send me a boat. I'm a stranger here, and only reached Madison to-day."
"Can't help that. If you're Motor Matt the boat's for you. If you refuse it we'll have to notify the shipper, and if we can't get any satisfaction from the shipper, the boat will have to be sold for the charges."
"Great spark-plugs!" muttered Matt. "Where's the boat from?"
"San Francisco."
The king of the motor boys stared blankly at the clerk.
"From San Francisco, eh?" he repeated.
"Yes, and it's all complete—an eighteen-footer, with engine installed."
"Can—can I see it?"
"Come this way."