Chapter XV: Motor Matt's Ten-Strike

Josh hustled for the runabout. One of the coiled ropes Matt had put in the car was hanging over a lamp, and the other had been thrown into the road. Taking the one off the lamp, the boy hurried back to the place where Matt was training the revolver on Spangler.

"Fine bizness!" laughed Josh. "Wot d'yous want me t' do, Matt? Put a bow-knot on his lunch-hooks?"

"Stand up, Spangler!" ordered Matt.

Spangler got lamely to his feet. He was still confused and bewildered.

"Somethin' hit us," he mumbled. "From the way I was throwed it must hev been a landslide. Whar's Hank? Is he killed?"

"Brisco will get along, I guess," said Matt. "Put your hands behind you, Spangler."

Just then, for the first time, it began to dawn on Spangler that Matt was making a prisoner out of him. The ruffian, although practically uninjured, had been badly shaken up. Nevertheless, he was in condition to resist, and he leaped backward, swearing.

"If ye think ye kin rope, down an' tie me," he cried, "jest bekase that thar machine bucked an' dumped me inter the road, ye got another----"

"Come this way!" cut in Matt.

The words, hard and keen, jumped at Spangler like so many knife-points. Motor Matt meant business, and showed it in every movement.

Spangler stepped forward.

"That's far enough," snapped Matt. "Now put those hands behind you."

With the open end of his own gun staring him in the face, there was nothing for Spangler to do but to obey. His hands went meekly behind him.

"Can you tie a good hard knot, Josh?" asked Matt.

"T'ink I ain't good f'r nuttin'?" protested the boy.

Passing behind Spangler, he used the free end of the rope for a few moments and then stepped back with the rest of the coil in his hands.

"If he gits dem mitts out o' dat he's a good 'un," announced Josh. "W'ere d'yous want him, Matt?"

"In the Red Flier. Step lively, Spangler. We've got to look after Brisco."

"Get ap!" clucked Josh, shaking the rope.

With a black scowl on his face, the baffled Spangler made his way to the touring-car.

"Get in on the back seat," went on Matt.

Spangler obeyed the order.

"Now, Josh," pursued Matt, "cut the rope and tie a piece of it around his feet."

The boy finished the work expeditiously, and when he and Matt drew away from the Red Flier they left Spangler helpless and fuming in the tonneau.

Brisco was still lying where he had fallen, and he was still unconscious. Matt made a more thorough examination of him. His pulse was stronger and, so far as Matt could discover, there were no broken bones.

"Wot keeps 'im in a trance?" asked the boy. "He's stayin' a long time in de Land o' Nod for not havin' nuttin' wrong wit' 'im."

"Pick up his revolver, Josh," returned Matt briskly, "and then sit down beside him and wait till he gets his wits back. Don't let him get away from you."

"Get away from me? Not on yer life, cull. I'd radder take dis mutt into Fairview dan pull down a t'ousan' in de long green. Dad wants _him_."

Paying no attention to the boy's rather obscure remark, Matt went to the runabout. He was expecting to find the machine badly smashed, and was happily disappointed.

Both front lamps were broken, and the mud-guard over the right wheel forward had been ripped away. The guard had fallen between the wheel and the rock, and undoubtedly had kept the wheel from being dished. The tire was punctured and the jolt had disabled the motor. For all that, however, the machine, with a few temporary repairs, could travel on its own wheels if not under its own power.

Brisco had not yet corralled his wits. Aided by Josh, Matt dragged the man off to one side, where he would be out of the way; then, cutting about six feet of rope from the other riata, he threw it down where Josh could get at it.

"When Brisco wakes up, Josh," said Matt, "just hold him steady till we put that rope on him."

"Wot yous goin' t' do, Matt?" inquired the wondering Josh. "Yous is busier dan a monkey wit' his hand in a coconut."

"We're going to haul the runabout into Fairview," said Matt. "But I've got to patch her up first."

Getting into the Red Flier, Matt backed her as close to the disabled car as he could; then, hitching onto the runabout with the ropes, he pulled it down onto the level plain.

With a jack taken from the touring-car he swung the runabout's wheel off the ground. The mud-guard, having been ripped off, was not in his way. After locating the puncture and marking it with chalk, he unscrewed the wing-nuts, pushed out the security-bolt, and then, with levers, dug out the inner tube.

Perhaps he was an hour getting the hole patched up, tire back in place and reinflated. When he was through, the runabout was ready to be dragged to Fairview.

"How's Brisco?" asked Matt, putting on his leather coat, which he had thrown off while working with the runabout.

"Same as wot he was, cull," replied Josh. "He ain't twitched an eye-winker."

"He may be shamming," said Matt, "in the hope of making a bolt for his liberty. We'll put him in the tonneau. You can ride with him and watch him every minute. I'll take Spangler in front with me."

"We're goin' t' take de hull outfit into Fairview?" grinned Josh.

"That's the idea."

"A whale of an idee it is, too, an' no stringin'. Reg'lar line-up o' crooks an' stolen automobiles, wit' Motor Matt in charge o' de bunch. Wow! It's de biggest come-easy dat I ever mixed up wit'. Mebby dere won't be rejoicin' w'en we goes pokin' into town wit' all dis load. Well, I guess yes."

Between them, Matt and Josh succeeded in carrying Brisco to the touring-car and getting him into the tonneau.

Spangler, having been transferred to one of the front seats, had been chewing the cud of reflection.

"Looky here, Motor Matt," said he, "ye ain't got no call ter kerry me ter Fairview. Think o' Klegg, down an' out an' mebby dyin' back thar in that notch. If anythin' happens ter him ye'll be responsible. Better turn me loose an' let me go back an' take keer o' him."

"Don't do so much worrying over Klegg," answered Matt. "I intend to have him looked after. Just as soon as we get to Fairview I'll have the sheriff, or some other officer, go to the notch and see that Klegg gets all the attention he deserves."

"Waal, even at that, ye ain't got no call ter lug me inter town. I ain't done a thing. Brisco was the feller that had it in fer you. It's him ye want ter git even with, an' not me."

"You didn't have a hand in robbing Mr. Tomlinson, did you?" said Matt sarcastically. "There are a lot of other things you've done, too, and I'm going to turn you over to Lem Nugent, the man who owns the runabout, as soon as we reach Fairview. It won't take long to get Nugent up from Ash Forks."

"Yous is a game loser, I don't t'ink," scoffed the boy. "W'ere's yer nerve, Spangler?"

"Say," said Spangler, giving his attention to Josh, "where did you butt inter this game?"

"I rode out o' Fairview wit' Brisco," grinned Josh. "He give me a ride."

"Give ye a ride?" echoed Spangler.

"Sure, on'y he didn't know it. I was under de coat in de back o' de runabout; an' I was still dere w'en yous mutts went t' dat hole in de wall. 'Course yous didn't see me. Yous was too mad at Motor Matt t' see anyt'ing."

The whole situation rushed over Spangler with demoralizing clearness. He was able to understand how Josh and Matt, by the exercise of pluck and brains, had succeeded in balking the plans of Brisco.

Spangler swore heartily. It seemed to be his only method for easing his feelings.

"The worst move we ever made," he muttered savagely, "was takin' Motor Matt out o' town last night. I didn't want ter do it, but Brisco had made up his mind, an' that settled it. We ain't got no one ter blame but ourselves fer what's happened. Go on. The quicker we git ter Fairview an' hev this thing over with, the better I'll be suited."

Spangler, resigning himself to the situation, sank back in his seat.

Matt went around to the rear of the car to make the ropes attaching it to the runabout more secure. As near as he had been able to discover there was a level road all the way to Fairview. They were coming into the town from the north and east, and not along the Ash Fork road, where there was a hill to be descended in order to reach the valley.

Having reassured himself about the ropes, Matt returned to the side of the Red Flier and mounted the running-board. Looking over the side of the tonneau, he swept his gaze over Brisco's unconscious face.

"I can't understand what keeps him that way, Josh," said Matt.

"Mebby he's badly shook up inside," answered the boy. "Wot he needs is a doctor."

"Well, he'll have one before long. Stay right beside him and watch him every minute. If he's playing possum with us, we want to make sure he don't gain anything by it."

"I'm right on de job," said Josh.

Matt climbed into his seat and started on the low gear. There was a creaking of the ropes as they took the pull, and the runabout started.

Everything worked smoothly, and Matt, with a load worth fifteen hundred dollars, set his face toward Fairview.