"It will be as good as ever in a few days." They met a doctor who had been telephoned for and was hurrying to the park. The major turned him back with the information that his services were not needed. For the rest of the distance to his home the major leaned back in his seat and said nothing. When they reached a street which was close to the place where he boarded, Matt wanted to get out, but the major shook his head mysteriously, and they rode on. In due course the car halted in front of the small building which served for a garage, and the major told Mike to leave the car outside and to go in "and bring out the other machine." "I've got something I want to show you, King," said Woolford, getting out of the car, "and that's the reason I brought you here. If you're the kind of a lad I believe you are, the surprise I'm going to spring on you will keep you in Phoenix for that race with Prescott." The major's mysterious manner aroused Matt's curiosity; then, a few minutes later, his curiosity was eclipsed by astonishment and admiration. Through the open door of the garage Mike was rolling a span new motor-cycle! Motors were Matt's hobby. Anything driven by a motor had always appealed to him, but motor-cycles and motor-cars captured his fancy beyond anything and everything else in the motor line. "Great hanky-pank!" he exclaimed, as the machine, glossy and bright in every part, was brought to a stop between him and the major. "Like the looks of her?" laughed the major. "She's a fair daisy and no mistake!" cried Matt delightedly. The mass of compact machinery would have been puzzling to a boy who knew nothing about gasoline motor-cycles, but Matt's sparkling eyes went over the beautiful model part by part. "It's one of the latest make and not being generally sold, as yet," explained the major, still smiling at the unfeigned pleasure the sight of the mechanical marvel was giving Matt. "Notice the twin cylinders? Seven horse-power, my boy. Think of that! Why, you could scoot away from a streak of lightning on that bike. What do you think of her name, eh?" On the gasoline-tank, back of the saddle, the word _Comet_ was lettered in gold. "A good name for a racer," cried Matt, "and I'm Dutch if I ever saw anything to equal her. She's a jim-dandy, major." "I reckon you know how to ride one of the things, eh? Jump on and try her a whirl." "May I?" returned Matt, as though he thought the major's invitation too good to be true. "Sure!" laughed the major jovially. "She's full of gasoline and all you have to do is to turn it on and throw in the spark." Matt mounted while Mike steadied the machine; for a few moments he worked the pedals and then, with a patter of sharp explosions, he turned on the power and was off up the road like a bird on the wing.