"Then I guess we've got you dead to rights. Do you want to make a hundred dollars?"
"That depends on how I'm to make it," answered the king of the motor boys, immediately suspicious.
"You won't have much to do. We'll give you the money now if you promise to leave town to-night, and not come back to this section for a month."
"Oh!" exclaimed Matt, a light suddenly dawning upon him. "You're representative members of the Winnequa Club, I take it, and you want to keep me from running Lorry's boat in that race."
"We don't care how you take it," was the sharp retort. "The question is, will you accept that hundred and get out?"
"Certainly not," said Matt promptly.
There was a silence. One lad was doing all the talking, the others remaining silent and watchful.
"Will you leave for two hundred?" went on the spokesman.
"No," was Matt's indignant response, "nor for two thousand! What do you fellows take me for? I'm George Lorry's friend, and I'm going to see him through this racing contest."
"I don't think you will," was the significant answer. "You probably have an idea you will, but you'll change your mind before you're many days older."