Read Motor Matt's Red Flyer; or, On the High Gear Page 12


  CHAPTER XI.

  ON THE ROAD.

  Kneeling beside Klegg, Matt leaned over and held the saturatedhandkerchief close to his face. The fumes were strong, and seemed tostrangle him. With a gurgling grunt he shifted his position.

  Matt moved the handkerchief and again held it over his face. This timeKlegg sputtered a little, but did not change his position. Evidentlythe narcotic was beginning to have its effect. After a moment, Mattallowed the handkerchief to drop on Klegg's face. He left it therefor two or three minutes and then threw it aside. Klegg was breathingheavily and seemed to be completely under the influence of the drug.

  Catching hold of the blanket on which the man was lying, Matt began topull it toward the wall of the niche.

  "Chee!" whispered a voice close to Matt's side. "Wot kind of a smell isdat, cull? Wot yous done to Klegg?"

  "I thought you were going to wait outside, Josh?" answered Matt.

  "Dat's wot I t'ought, but yous was so long in comin' dat I took denotion t' come in an' look yous up. Wot's de play?"

  "I found a bottle of chloroform in the runabout, and it must have beenout of that same bottle that Brisco took the stuff that put me tosleep. Thought I'd see how it worked on Klegg."

  "Yous is a jim dandy, Matt!" laughed Josh delightedly. "But w'ere'sBrisco an' Spang?"

  "They're not here, and neither is the touring-car."

  "Tough luck! Yous figgerin' on makin' a getaway wit' de runabout?"

  "Yes. We might use that for a quick run to Fairview and get the sheriffto hunt up Brisco and Spangler. I'll go with the sheriff and use therunabout. It's a faster car than the Flier, and we may be able to catchthe two thieves before they wreck Mr. Tomlinson's car."

  "Yous has got a head on yous, Matt, an' no mistake," said the boyadmiringly. "An' yous pulled all dis off yerself! Well, say, if yousain't a winner dis heat yous ought t' be. Dat's right--on de level an'no stringin'. Dad would like t' have a guy like yous t' work wit' allde time. An' so would Little Eva, de child wonder. But it's gittin'daylight, Matt, an' if we're goin' t' pull our freight, let's be at it."

  It was already light enough so that they could see without the lamps.These were extinguished, and then Matt put the tail lamp back in itsplace, started the engine and got into the driver's seat.

  On the low gear they moved slowly across the bottom of the niche.

  Josh was still laughing softly to himself.

  "Chee, cull, but I'd like t' be around w'en Brisco an' Spang find datKlegg feller!" he chuckled. "Dat would be as good as a circus. Dis isalmost too good t' be true, ain't it?"

  "It will be, Josh," replied Matt, "if I can only get back the RedFlier."

  "Dem coves'll be careful o' dat odder machine when dey find dis one hasbeen took away from dem."

  "I know that--providing they find out the runabout is gone before theydestroy the Flier."

  Setting the runabout at the bushes, Matt drove through the undergrowth,Josh keeping the branches out of his face while he attended to thesteering.

  "On de road ag'in!" jubilated the boy, as they emerged from the mouthof the opening and turned to the left.

  "All I wish is," answered Matt, "that I knew we were going right."

  "Dere's on'y two ways t' go, cull. One's up to'rds w'ere you wasdropped by Brisco an' Spang, an' t'odder's de way we're headin'. It's acinch we're hittin' it off about proper. W'ere d' youse t'ink dem oddermutts went wid de tourin'-car?"

  "I'm afraid they took it off to carry out their threat and make junk ofit."

  "I hope yous ain't got it right. If dey did dat, it 'u'd put yous in abad hole. Yous couldn't make Tomlinson take dis car f'r de odder, couldyous?"

  "Hardly. This car belongs to Nugent, in Ash Fork."

  Something was rattling about the car, and it got onto Matt's nerves.Halting for a moment, he located the difficulty. The screw-cap ofthe gasoline-tank was loose. Taking a wrench out of the tool-box hetightened the cap, then dropped the wrench in the rumble and returnedto his seat.

  "Yous don't like t' hear anyt'ing rattle, hey?" queried Josh.

  "Makes me nervous," laughed Matt. "Now hold onto your teeth, Josh. I'mgoing to let her out!"

  "De quicker we kin go de better. Let's see how fast de ole gal kintravel."

  They whirled around a turn in the narrow valley. The unexpected waslying in wait for them, for they came upon Spangler, on foot andwalking toward the niche.

  Josh gave a startled yell. Spangler, dumfounded at sight of therunabout, charging toward him with Motor Matt and the boy in front,stood as though rooted to the ground.

  "Down, Josh!" cried Matt, advancing the spark; "get down behind thedashboard!"

  As Matt spoke he sounded the horn. Spangler climbed out of the way withmore haste than grace, and the runabout dashed past him.

  "Yi-yip-ee!" tuned up the boy, waving his hand mockingly. "D'radder dodat dan git run down, hey?"

  "Drop!" yelled Matt, and in a tone that made Josh crumple down betweenthe seat and the dash.

  Bang!

  Matt had expected a bullet, and he was not disappointed. But it wentwide.

  Bang!

  The next one came closer, but still left a safe margin.

  There was no more shooting. Wondering at it, Josh rose up and lookedbackward.

  "Now wot d'youse t'ink o' dat!" he cried. "Wot's dat mug doin' dat for?"

  "What's he doing?" asked Matt.

  "W'y he's hustlin' a big stone into de middle o' de road. See 'im work!Chee! Wot's de meanin' o' dat?"

  The car whipped around another turn, wiping Spangler and his strangeactivities out of sight. Josh dropped down on the seat.

  "That's got a bad look," said Matt, coaxing the runabout to a stillfaster gait. "We've got to get out of this as quick as we can."

  "Chee!" cried the boy, holding to the seat with both hands, "we'regoin' fast enough. Gid-ap! Wow! wot a spurt! Don't let anyt'ing slip acog, cull. If de ole benzine-buggy hit a rock an' stopped, I'd go righton f'r a couple o' miles afore I landed. Oh, wot a clip! We've got deCannonball Limited licked t' a frazzle!"

  Then they took another turn, the rear wheels skidding and Matt deftlycatching the motor up and sending the car onward. The runabout did notfollow the curve of the road, but made an angling turn--a hair-raisingstunt copied after Oldfield, the daredevil racer.

  Josh gave a yell, and came within a hair of being heaved over Matt andinto the road.

  Then, with a muttered exclamation, Matt cut off the power, applied thebrakes and quickly reversed, backing for the side of the road.

  It all happened so quick that it took the boy's breath.

  "Wot's dat fer?" he asked.

  Matt was whirling the wheel and starting the car on the back track.

  "Brisco is heading us off," he answered--"Brisco in the Red Flier!"

  Josh turned to stare along the road.

  Matt was right.

  Brisco, still a long distance off, was whooping it up in theirdirection.

  "Wouldn't dat crimp yous?" gasped the boy, awed at the gatheringperils. "Dey've got us f'r fair, Matt! W'y didn't yous keep on an' giveBrisco de go-by?"

  "There wasn't room enough in the road to pass!" flung back Matt.

  "Dat's w'y Spang was rollin' dem stones in de road! He knew dat Briscowas comin', and dat he'd git us between him an' de rock-pile. Chee!We're It, dis time, an' no mistake."

  Matt, his face white and set and his gray eyes snapping, was leaningover the steering-wheel, watching every foot of road as they swept overit.

  "We've got to pass that rock-pile before it gets too big!" said hethrough his teeth.

  "Den w'ere'll we go?"

  "Anywhere, just so we keep away from Brisco. This car is a faster onethan the Red Flier. We can show him our heels at any stage of the game."

  They fairly flew, and rocks rushed past them as though hurled by somegiant hand.

  "There'll be some danger when we get to the place where Spangler iswaiting, Josh," said Matt. "I'll slow down and you can
get out, if youwant to."

  "Wot d'youse take me fer?" cried the boy. "I'm wid yous, Matt, win'r lose. See? Make yer ole play. If Uncle Josh ain't wit' yous at definish, den call him a quitter an' mark him off'n yer callin'-list."

  Hurling onward, and skidding around the turns, Matt kept straining hiseyes constantly ahead.

  Their source of peril was now wrapped up in Spangler. If his pile ofboulders did not block the road completely--if there was a chance forthe runabout to get past the stones, or over them, there was still afighting chance for escape.

  Half a minute later, as the car reached out for the place whereSpangler had been at work, Matt's heart went down into his boots.

  Spangler was nowhere in sight, but he had worked to good purpose.

  A few big boulders were cunningly placed so as to make the roadimpassable. With a despairing cry, Matt brought the runabout to a quickstop.