"Because this Ollie Merton isn't such a friend of yours as you think," said Matt.
George Lorry stiffened in the old, arrogant way.
"I guess I know my friends," he answered frigidly.
"Listen," went on Matt. "When I left the cabin and started along the Waunakee road, some one in the bushes threw a riata at me. It was Big John threw the rope, and along with Big John was this Ollie Merton. They were after that ten thousand dollars, but I played a trick on them and got away with the draft. It was your sister, George, that helped me get away."
"What!" exclaimed George; "not Ethel?"
"Yes. She was on the Waunakee road with her motor car——"
George scowled.
"The governor would put twenty-five hundred in a runabout for sis," he growled, "and wouldn't scrip up when I wanted a motor boat. Is that right? Is——"
Voices were heard outside, accompanying a slushy crunch of wet gravel. Matt leaped for the light and blew it out.