"There were conditions, Burton," said Matt.
"The only condition I remember was something about the government buying the aëroplane—which is all a dream. The government has bought one of the machines, and that's enough. It takes a Motor Matt to run one of those cranky Traquair air ships. It'll be a long while before Uncle Sam buys another."
Matt read the message through, gave a whoop of delight, and passed the yellow slip on to McGlory.
Then McGlory jubilated.
"What's to pay?" demanded Burton.
"Uncle Sam has done the trick!" crowed the cowboy. "He takes the Comet at the same price he paid for the June Bug—fifteen thousand spot—machine to be crated and shipped immediately, if not sooner. Whoop-ya! That settles the aëroplane business for King & McGlory. The next game we get into will be something, I reckon, that I can take a hand in, and not leave Pard Matt to do all the work."
Burton's face grew gloomy.
"Let me look at that message," he requested.
Matt handed it to him, and he read it over two or three times, then dropped it savagely, and ground it under his heel.
"You don't have to sell," said he angrily. "You can turn that offer down if you want to."