Matt saw the berth he was looking for, and turned the Sprite into the slip. Two minutes later he was alongside the dock, and had his painter fastened to a post. As he faced about, after making the painter secure, he saw that Thompson had gained the dock, and was starting off toward the street, his feet sluicing around in his wet shoes, and his trousers slapping about his legs as he walked.
He was intending to leave without any further talk with Matt, and the latter leaned against a post and watched him with half-humorous, half-wondering eyes.
Before he reached the street, however, McGlory and Ping Pong dodged around the end of a loaded dray and came face to face with him.
McGlory stopped short, and stared. So did Thompson. Then McGlory jumped forward with a whoop, countered the half-hearted blow Thompson aimed at him, and grabbed him around the waist.
"Sufferin' Joseph!" cried McGlory, "if it ain't Cousin George! Speak to me about that, will you? Cousin George Lorry, that I've been bushwhackin' all over 'Frisco to find! Easy, George! You couldn't get away from me in a thousand years, and you know it. Whoop-ee, Matt! Come this way, and come a-running!"
[CHAPTER V.]
AN ODD TANGLE.
In a flash Motor Matt recalled what McGlory had told him among the sand dunes beyond the Presidio barracks. He had described a fellow, about his own heft and height, whom he named as George Lorry. Could it be that Matt had picked up the very chap McGlory was looking for? And McGlory had referred to him as his cousin!