CHAPTER VIII.
SPIRITED AWAY.
Carl was not the only one who had been troubled with dreams thatnight. Motor Matt floundered through one of the worst nightmares hehad ever had. The whole scheme of the thing was rather vague, butmighty depressing. He seemed to be engaged in some tremendous struggle,striking away and countering a thousand or more huge fists that leapedat him out of the gloom. One by one he put the clenched hands out ofbusiness, and when he had conquered the last of them he opened his eyesin bewilderment.
The humming of a motor was in his ears. It was the Red Flier's motor,he could tell that instinctively. The stars were overhead, the cool,damp smell of the night was all around, and the glow of the acetylenelamps was glimmering and dancing in advance. The car was moving brisklythrough the silence.
Matt had a queer, sick feeling at the pit of his stomach. Counting outthe time he raced the limited train on his motor-cycle, collided witha freight-wagon and was laid up for a fortnight, he had never beenconfined to his bed for a week in his life.
He wondered what ailed him, and his mind was sluggish and slow inworking out the problem.
He had felt just as he did then once before. That was the time he hadbeen drugged and taken out of Phoenix to keep him from racing with thePrescott champion, O'Day.
Had he been drugged now? If so, why, and by whom?
By degrees the cool air cleared his befogged brain. He went back overthe chain of events, picking it up where he had dropped it.
The queer party of stranded actors--the arrival at Fairview--the escapeof Brisco from the hotel--the ride into the hills to look for theboy--the pursuit by the horsemen and the loss of the tin box--all theseevents dragged through Matt's mind. He and Carl had gone to sleep inthe automobile. Why was the car moving? Had Carl, giving rein to somewild impulse, cranked up the car and started for a night ride?
Matt stirred. "Carl!" he called, "what are you trying to do?"
Matt became aware, then, that there was some one beside him in thetonneau.
"Carl, hey?" came a jeering voice, as a strong hand reached over andpushed Matt back in the seat. "Ye got another guess comin'. Thar ain'tno Dutchman along, this trip."
"Tuned up, has he?" asked a voice from the front seat.
"Yep; he's got back ter airth, Hank."
"Surprised?" The man in front laughed hoarsely as he asked thequestion.
"Waal, kinder. He thought his Dutch pard was erlong."
Matt, while this talk was going forward, realized with a shock that thetwo men in the car were Brisco and Spangler. Brisco was in the driver'sseat, and Spangler was in the tonneau.
With a quick gathering of all his strength, Matt flung himself towardthe door of the tonneau. His first unreasoning impulse was to get awayfrom his captors. The car must have been going forty miles an hour, andthe roadside was lined with sharp stones. If Matt had succeeded in hisdesperate attempt, he could hardly have escaped without serious injury;but his rash move was nipped in the bud. Spangler, who was in thetonneau for the purpose, grabbed Matt and hurled him back into the seat.
"None o' that!" he growled. "Want ter break yer bloomin' neck? Not as Ikeer much about yer neck, but Hank an' me hev got diff'rent plans ferye."
Matt was still dizzy and weak. The nausea at his stomach was leavinghim slowly, but it made him feel as limp as a rag and utterly helpless.
"Did you men run away with this car?" he asked.
"Looks that-away, don't it?" returned Spangler.
"Where's Carl?"
"Didn't hev no time ter bother with the Dutchman, so we left himbehind."
"Was he hurt?"
"Hurt? Nary, he wasn't hurt. We ain't opinin' ter hurt anybody thistrip so long as we hev our way. The Dutchman was snoring like a houseafire. All we did was ter lift him out o' the keer an' lay him on theground. We give him a smell o' somethin' on a han'kercher, jest termake him snooze a leetle harder, that's all."
"You drugged both of us, then?"
"That was the easiest way ter keep ye from makin' er noise."
"Where are you taking me?"
"Ye'll know afore long."
It was a rugged road they were traveling, and the Red Flier negotiatedit with many a juggling bump. Mountainous rocks, half-screened bybushes and trees, glided by, and there were dusky gashes and seams, andnow and then a splash of falling water.
Rougher and rougher grew the trail, and the reckless driving of Briscocaused Matt's nerves to thrill with fears for the car.
"You'll rack the car to pieces if you keep driving like that!" Mattcalled sharply.
"What's it to you?" taunted Brisco.
"It means a whole lot to me. This car belongs to Mr. Tomlinson, andI've promised to take it safely to Albuquerque."
"Be hanged to you and Mr. Tomlinson!" snarled Brisco. "We'll fix thiscar before we're done with it. If you ever take it to Albuquerque,you'll have to scoop up the pieces and tote 'em there in alumber-wagon. That's part of what we're going to do to play even withyou and him!"
Matt's heart skipped a beat, and a cold chill ran through his body.Could the villains really mean to destroy the Red Flier?
"You'd better think well about what you do," warned Matt. "If you ruinthis car, Mr. Tomlinson will never let up on you till he puts you whereyou belong."
Spangler brought his hand around in a sweeping blow. Matt dodged thehand so that the stroke was only a glancing one.
"Shut up!" he cried savagely. "Ye ain't here ter make any threats, 'rthrow any bluffs."
At that moment, Brisco brought the car to a stop, putting on the brakesso suddenly that the wheels locked and slid.
"I reckon this'll be far enough," said Brisco, turning in his seat."Make him get out, Spang."
"Hear that?" cried Spang. "Open the door and git down."
"What's this for?" returned Matt, making no move to obey.
For answer, Spangler, with an oath, seized him by the collar and jerkedhim roughly out of the tonneau.
Matt was unable to make any resistance. As he stood in the road, thejagged uplifts by which he was surrounded seemed to swim about him incircles.
Spangler got back in the car, as Matt staggered to a big boulder andleaned against it, and Brisco backed the car around until it was headedalong the back course.
"Wait!" cried Matt, as a thought of what all this might mean to himtook shape in his brain.
"We're going to wait--and for just about a minute," returned Brisco.
"Are you going to steal that car?" asked Matt, "just as you stoleNugent's?"
"You're too much of a meddler," snapped Brisco. "If you could go alongand mind your own business, you'd be a whole lot better off. You had totangle up with Tomlinson, back there at Ash Fork, and you hadn't anycall to butt in. If it hadn't been for you, we'd 'a' won out on thatgame and been all to the good. I don't reckon we'd have bothered you atall, though, if you'd been content to carry out your orders and push onto Albuquerque. But you couldn't do that; oh, no. You're trying to befirst aid to the weak and down-trodden wherever you run into them, soyou had to mix up with that bunch of stranded actors.
"When I drove the runabout into Fairview after gasoline and oil, Idropped Spangler off to lay for the tramps and get that tin box. Youhad to butt in, as per usual. I got away from Fairview by the skinof my teeth, picked up Spang at the place where he was waiting, andwe went on to where our other pard had some horses. We side-trackedthe runabout there, and slid back toward Fairview, intending to pushthrough the timber--a move we couldn't make in the car. Then"--andhere a swirling oath dropped from Brisco's lips--"we dropped into yourlittle trap."
"What trap?" demanded Matt.
"Oh, no, you don't know a thing about that, do you? You weren'tmoseying out there just to give us a chance to lift that tin box,were you? And you hadn't the least notion it was empty, had you? Ifyou hadn't turned that trick, my bantam, we wouldn't have turned thisone. We're going to settle with you, all right. This is a part ofthe country that isn't traveled once a week,
and you're seventy-fivemiles from Fairview. By the time you get back to town, we'll have gotwhat was in that box, and have smashed the Red Flier into a heap ofjack-straws. I know a nice little cliff alongside the road, and whenwe're through with the car we'll lash the wheel, open her up and lether go over the edge! I reckon that'll cook your goose with Tomlinson.He didn't calculate you were going to use his car transporting a lotof stranded actors, and mixing up in their affairs on the way toAlbuquerque."
For a space, Motor Matt's heart stood still.
"You wouldn't dare do that!" he shouted.
"Wouldn't I?" and a reckless, mocking laugh came with the words. "Fromwhat you know of me don't you think I would? Hope you'll have a nice,easy walk to Fairview, Motor Matt! There'll be some surprises in storefor you when you get there. Good-by!"
Spangler also shouted a jeering farewell.
The car got in motion, the humming slowly decreased, and the glow ofthe tail light winked suddenly into darkness.
Motor Matt had been abandoned.
But, worse than that, the two scoundrels who had spirited him away fromFairview were bent on the wanton destruction of Mr. Tomlinson's car!