"I know what I can do better than the doctor, George," laughed Matt. "I'll be in that race every minute—watch me."
Both Lorry and McGlory studied Matt's face carefully.
"Pluck, that's what it is," muttered McGlory. "It's the sort of pluck that wins. But I don't know whether the doctor will let you——"
Just at that moment a servant stepped into the room.
"What is it, James?" asked Lorry.
"Mr. Martin Rawlins to see Mr. King," was the answer.
Lorry looked bewildered.
"Mart Rawlins!" he exclaimed. "Why, he's one of the Winnequa fellows, and a crony of Merton's!"
"He's here to pump Matt," growled McGlory, "or else to find out what his chances are for being in that race to-morrow. Sufferin' tinhorns, what a nerve!"
"Have him come up, Lorry," said Matt. "It won't do any harm to talk with him. If he's here to pump me, he's welcome to try."