"It was plumb dark there in the shadow of the boathouse," he answered. "I could just make out that they were negroes, and that's all. I reckon, though, that Ollie Merton could tell us who those fellows were—if he would."
"I'd be a little careful, Joe," cautioned Matt, "about involving Merton in that fire. If it could be proved against him it would be a mighty serious business—just as serious as for the fellows who set the fire."
"Well, pard, why was Merton and his friends making their bets in that queer way? In case there isn't any race because of the failure of the Yahara Club to produce a starter, the Winnequas take the stakes. That looks as though Merton and his pals knew what was going to happen. If the Sprite was burned, there'd be no boat for the Yaharas to produce."
"Joe's right," declared Lorry.
"Well, keep your suspicions to yourselves," said Matt. "In a case of this kind it's positive proof that's needed, not bare suspicion. Wasn't the fire seen from the city? Didn't any one go across the lake to help fight it?"
"We met a couple of boats going over as we were coming across with you and Ping," replied Lorry. "By that time, though, the boathouse was no more than a heap of embers. It went quick after it got started. But what about the race to-morrow? That's the point that's bothering me. I could take the Sprite over the course, and so could Joe, at a pinch, but we wouldn't get the speed out of her that you would."
"I'll drive her myself," said Matt.
"Speak to me about that!" gasped McGlory. "Why, pard, you've only got one hand—and that's the left."
"A man who's any good at automobile driving has a pretty good left hand. In an automobile race, Joe, the driver's left hand has to do a big share of the work. The racer steers with the left hand, holding the right hand free for the emergency brake. The left hand has to be trained to take full charge at all corners, and in a thousand and one other places as the need arises. I can do the racing well enough."
"But the doctor says——" began Lorry.