"We've got you down pretty fine, Motor Matt," pursued the spokesman, who could not bring himself to give up the attempt to influence Matt. "If it hadn't been for you, George Lorry would be in San Francisco now. You brought him back here, and you advised him to get back into the Yahara Club and go on with the programme the Yaharas had laid down for him. That was all your doing, and you know it."
"I'm glad to think," said Matt, with spirit, "that I had something to do with that. But you're mistaken if you think I had everything to do with it."
"I suppose this McGlory helped a little."
"He did; but the biggest help came from Lorry himself. Lorry has the right kind of stuff in him, and he'll show you, before long, that he's worth a dozen Mertons."
This goaded one of the others into speech—and it was the one whom Matt suspected of being Ollie Merton.
"Oh, splash! Lorry's a sissy and he always was."
It was Merton's voice, Matt felt sure of that. But the king of the motor boys wanted to make assurance doubly sure.
"Now are you done?" he asked.
"You refuse to meet us half way in an amicable arrangement?"
"Your amicable arrangement," said Matt ironically, "is an insult to a fellow who tries to be square. I'll have nothing to do with it, and that's the last word."