Motor Matt's Mandarin; or, Turning a Trick for Tsan Ti

by Stanley R. Matthews

"Kaaterskill!" minced McGlory. "Now, what the blooming——"

"Joe," muttered Matt, grasping his chum's arm, and pulling him away. "What's come over you, anyhow? You're acting like a Hottentot."

"That's it!" cried Joe.

"What?"

"The name that one-eyed webfoot had on his cap. Hottentot! Hottentot! Hottentot!"

"Joe!" warned Matt, for the cowboy had sung out the word at the top of his voice. "What ails you? Great spark plugs!"

McGlory brushed a hand across his face.

"I feel like I'd taken a foolish powder, pard," he answered huskily. "Let's get out of here before I make a holy show of myself."

All at sea, they went back to the hammocks and sat down by the two motor cycles.

"And this," remarked McGlory, breaking a long silence, "is what you call turning the trick for Tsan Ti! I told you that letter we received in Grand Rapids was plain bunk. Read it again, pard."