Fortunately there were few travelers on the Black Cañon road. The
traveling for that part of the day had mostly been done, and people
from all the ranches were at the park. He had to slow down and turn out
for a Mexican wood-hauler, and the few other people he passed gave him
a wide berth and watched wonderingly as he whizzed by.
Alfalfa-fields sped past him, and the cottonwood-trees lining the
roadside ditches trooped behind so quickly that they became a mere
blur. The road was like asphalt and rubber tires never had better going.
Like a dart Matt hurled onward, minute after minute, ranch-houses doing
strange dances as he met and left them. Before he fairly realized it he
was turning into Grand Avenue and plunging along beside the street-car
track. Into the Five Points he whirled, striking pavement that
appreciably increased his gait. The stores seemed deserted, and only
here and there could a man be seen on the streets. A yellow cur pranced
yipping out at him, then whirled with his tail between his legs and ran
howling from the monster that devoured distance with the combined speed
of a dozen dogs.
Turning into Washington Street, Matt found himself with a straight-away
stretch clear to the park. There was more travel here, for this was
the main thoroughfare of the town. Every store and shop was dressed in
bunting. Matt must have been recognized as he raced, for everything got
out of his way, and more than one cheer went up as he flickered by.
In passing the Court House Plaza he caught the time from the face of
the big clock. Six minutes of four! He opened her out a little more,
and the _Comet_ ate up the miles as she had not yet done. Mile-a-minute
Matt! He was true to the name, now, and Phoenix had never been
traversed from end to end as he was doing it.
Presently he was in the outskirts of the city, another minute and he
was close to the park fence, another and he had slowed down for the
wagon-gate. The man on duty there recognized him and leaped aside.
"Hoop-a-la!" roared the man, waving his hat. "In with you! Not a minute
to spare."
Toward the race-course he guided the _Comet_. Everywhere the edge of
the great oval was black with people. Like wild-fire the word traveled,
"King is coming! Here comes King! Bully for King!"
Close to the dressing-rooms Matt pulled up. The major was there, Chub
was there, Susie was there--and Perk. They _knew_ he would arrive, and
they had everything ready.
"Oh, you!" howled the delighted Chub, throwing his arms about Matt and
pulling him out of the saddle. "King of the Motor Boys, that's what you
are."
Susie grabbed him and, in her excitement, landed an ecstatic kiss on
his dusty face.
"Motor Matt!" she cried, waving the high-school colors. "_Now_ will
Prescott High be good?"
"Shade o' Gallopin' Dick!" yelled Welcome, doing an odd war-dance on
his wooden pin. "He's my pard, he is! Watch me soothe my turbulent soul
with a grip o' his honest pa'm."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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