"To our success in the race," said Merton, lifting his glass and sweeping his keen eyes over the faces of his friends; "may the _Dart_ win, by fair means"--he paused--"or otherwise."
Four or five peered at Merton distrustfully over their glasses; but, in the end, they drank the toast.
The success of the _Dart_ meant dollars and cents to them; and money, for those eight plotters, stood for more than club honors and the De Lancey cup.
Sunday was a beautiful and a quiet day at the boathouse by the Point. Mendota, otherwise "Fourth," Lake was never fairer. Across the ripples, glimmering in the sun, the city of Madison lifted itself out of a mass of green foliage like a piece of fairyland.
The lake was alive with motor boats, sailboats and rowboats. Matt and McGlory, sitting in the shade on the little pier in front of their temporary home, idled and dreamed away the afternoon until, about four o'clock, a snappy little launch, equipped with canopy and wicker chairs, untangled itself from the maze of boats out in the lake and pushed toward the cove.
"Visitors!" exclaimed Matt, jumping out of his chair.
"Speak to me about that!" grumbled McGlory. "Now we've got to get into our collars and coats and spruce up. Oh, hang it! I like a boiled shirt about as well as I like the measles."
Mr. Lorry, his daughter, Ethel Lorry, and George were occupying the wicker chairs under the canopy, while Gus, the Lorry chauffeur, was at the bulkhead controls.
George waved his hand. Matt returned the salutation and darted incontinently into the boathouse to fix himself up. Ethel Lorry was a fine girl and a great admirer of the king of the motor boys, and Matt felt it a duty to look his best.
By the time the boat drew up in front of the boathouse Matt and McGlory, in full regalia, were out to welcome their guests.
Lorry, senior, and his daughter were firm friends of Motor Matt. They realized fully how much the young motorist had done for George.
"A surprise party, Matt!" cried George. "I'll bet you weren't expecting the Lorrys, eh?"
"Always glad to receive callers," smiled Matt, grabbing the rope Gus threw to him and making it fast to a post.
"We've got to see the _Sprite_, Matt," said Ethel. "All our hopes are wrapped up in the _Sprite_, you know."