“Well,” remarked the cowboy, “the colonel is up against the real thing now. He’s due for such a slam as he never had before. We’re the boys to do it; eh, Matt?”
“We’ll make a stand for the right,” said Matt, “and work shoulder to shoulder to win out. The colonel talks about a fortune. You and I can make plenty of money, Joe. I think we have proved that. The motors are mighty good friends to tie to, whether they’re hitched to submarines, automobiles, or aëroplanes. We’ll pin our faith to the explosive engine, and one of these days it will land us honestly in Easy Street.”
The colonel, McGlory remembered, had mentioned “Easy Street.” But not as Matt had done it. The longer the cowboy talked with his chum the more he hated himself for the part he was playing. If he talked with Matt too long McGlory was sure his purpose would slip from him, and that he would let out everything about the inner history of the colonel’s manipulations of the “Pauper’s Dream.”
“I’d like to look inside that manila envelope once more, pard,” said McGlory. “There’s a part of that private report I didn’t sabe, and I’d like to read it over again.”
Matt King promptly drew the envelope from his pocket and passed it to his chum.
“It’s evidence of the rascality of two men, Joe,” remarked Matt, “and----”
McGlory sprang up quickly and stepped out into the road. He paused there, flashing his eyes up and down. Apparently he was looking for somebody or something, but really he was fighting with himself. He had reached the point where he must play up his scheme for all it was worth, or else turn his back on Billings and a fortune.
The cowboy felt sure he was about to do the right thing, but to put himself in a wrong light with his beloved pard for only a few days was proving a harder task than he had reckoned on. Abruptly he clinched his resolve. Slipping the manila envelope into his pocket, he turned to look at the apprehensive face of Matt among the bushes.
“What is it, Joe?” queried Matt. “Some one coming?”
“Some one going,” replied the cowboy, “and it’s me. You don’t understand this, pard. Don’t think too hard of me until you know everything.”
Thereupon McGlory whirled and took to his heels, racing in the direction of the clubhouse.