"Sufferin' hoodlums!" cried McGlory. "That's a nice way to tune up. Here's Merton, pulling off a raw deal, and coming within one of killing my two pards, say nothing of the way I was treated, and now you want him spared for the sake of avoiding a scandal!"
A silence followed this outburst.
When Rawlins continued, he turned and addressed himself to Matt.
"I think I know your calibre pretty well, Motor Matt," said he. "The way you turned down that bribe in the woods and declared that you'd stand by Lorry at all costs, showed us all you were the right sort. Of course, I can't presume to influence you; but, if you won't spare Merton on account of the scandal and the good of the sport, or on his own account, then think of his father and mother. They'll get back from abroad to-morrow morning in time for the race. That's all. I'd like to shake hands with you, if you don't mind."
Rawlins stepped closer to the bed.
"You'll have to take my left hand," laughed Matt. "The right's temporarily out of business. You're the clear quill, Rawlins," he added, as they shook hands, "and I'll take no steps against Merton, providing he acts on the square from now on. You can tell your club members that."
"Thank you. I half expected you'd say that."
"Will Merton be allowed to race the boat in the contest?" inquired Lorry.
"We can't very well avoid it. It's his boat, and it's the only entry on our side. He'll have to race her, with Halloran. The club will make that concession. After that—well, Merton will cease to act as commodore, and will no longer be a member of the club. Good-by, Motor Matt, and may the best boat win, no matter who's at the motor!"
As Rawlins went out, Ethel Lorry and her father stepped into the room. They had heard the loud voices, and inferring that Matt was able to receive company, had come upstairs.