"What happened?" and Mr. Lorry turned to face McGlory.
The cowboy repeated all that Rawlins had said, winding up with the promise Matt had made to spare Merton.
A soft light crept into Ethel's eyes.
"What else could you expect from Motor Matt?" she asked.
"I shall have to shake hands with you myself, Matt," said Mr. Lorry, taking Matt's left hand and pressing it cordially. "That was fine of you, but, as Ethel says, no more than we ought to expect. I hope you'll be able to drive the Sprite to victory, but you'll have to have less talk in the room and more rest if you're going to be able to take your place in the boat to-morrow. Come on, Ethel."
Mr. Lorry and his daughter left the room and Lorry and McGlory resumed their chairs, but gave over their conversation.
An hour later Matt called for something to eat, and a substantial meal was served to him, piping hot.
The doctor came while he was eating.
"Well," laughed the doctor, "I guess you'll do. Don't eat too much, that's all."
"He's got to corral enough ginger to get into that race to-morrow afternoon, doc," sang out the cowboy.