A SHIFT IN THE SITUATION.
Matt had never done any more rapid-fire thinking than he did then.
While Carl and Spangler, carried away by the excitement of the chase,
were yelping frantically and throwing themselves around in the tonneau,
and while Hank was growling and threatening, Motor Matt was driving
mechanically and turning the situation over in his mind.
Pringle, Trymore, Hank, and Spangler were all concerned in the robbery
of Tomlinson. Trymore, in some way yet to be explained, must have got
hold of the pearls and have tried to get away with them and leave his
pals in the lurch.
Hank, Spangler, and Pringle had been trying to get hold of Trymore, and
had felled the tree and laid that trap where the road wound around the
mountain. Pringle had been left with the horses while Hank and Spangler
made their attack on the car; by getting out, as he had done, Trymore
had checkmated his pals, had found Pringle and the horses, and the two
had made it up between them to hustle away with all the live stock and
leave Hank and Spangler tied up with the automobile on the wrong side
of the tree.
All this, at least, represented Matt's quick guess at the situation,
built upon certain things he knew and others which he took for granted.
Trymore and Pringle had about five minutes' start of the Red Flier;
but the motor-car, under Matt's skilful control, was registering fifty
miles an hour by the speedometer on the dashboard. If Trymore and
Pringle kept to the road, they must surely be overtaken in short order.
Spangler was the first to sight the horsemen.
"Thar they are, by thunder!" he cried, in savage exultation, "we're
goin' a dozen feet to their one, an' we'll smash right inter 'em, in
half a minit."
"We'll empty the saddles, that's what we'll do!" said Hank, through his
teeth. "We'll teach that brace of come-ons to play lame duck with _us_!"
Out of the tails of his eyes Matt saw Hank draw a revolver; and over
his shoulder leaned Spangler with another weapon.
The young motorist, no matter how desperate the situation, did not
intend to allow any successful shooting from the Red Flier. Quick as a
flash, he steered the car over a roughened part of the road. During the
shake-up that followed, the aim of the two ruffians was disconcerted,
and their shots went wild.
Trymore and Pringle, goading their horses frantically, were doing their
utmost to get away from their vengeful comrades. They knew, however,
that if they kept to the road it would be only a matter of seconds
before they were overhauled. The whistle of the bullets impelled a
quick change of tactics, and they turned from the trail and took to the
timber. By this move, they screened themselves from the weapons of the
pursuers, but got into country where they would have to travel more
slowly.
In the haste with which this fresh maneuver was executed, the led horse
got away.
"Consarn 'em!" exclaimed Hank. "If they think they're going to get away
by pulling off such a game as that, they're going to get fooled. Stop
the car!" he added, to Matt.
Matt slowed down to a halt. Before the Red Flier had been brought to
a standstill, Hank and Spangler were over the side, Hank catching the
loose horse and spurring after the fugitives, and Spangler floundering
after him on foot.
Presently, pursued and pursuers vanished, and Matt and Carl sat in the
car and wondered what was going to happen next.
"You bed my life," fumed Carl, "I hope dey ged Pringle."
The Dutch boy was so deeply concerned over Pringle that he had lost
sight of the more important points of the situation.
"They're crooks, all four of them," said Matt. "They stole the pearls
from Tomlinson, in the first place, and now they're trying to beat each
other out of them."
"Und Domlinson don'd vas Domlinson afder all?" inquired Carl.
"The fellow who called himself Tomlinson is Denver Denny, _alias_ James
Trymore. Didn't you hear what Hank and I said to each other, a few
minutes ago, Carl?"
"I don'd hear nodding but schust some yells made py dot odder feller.
Vell, vell! Led's all dry und be jeerful. Der deputy sheriff hat dot
news aboudt Tenver Tenny in his bocket all der time, und he heluped der
crook across der shdreet, und made him comfordable py der hodel, und
dit eferyt'ing he could for him! Ach, Drymore vas a shrewrd sgoundrel,
I bed you."
"He's a bold one!" declared Matt.
"Vere iss der real Domlinson alretty? Und how dit Drymore ged der
audomopile?"
"That's what we've got to find out, Carl."
"It vas a pig orter."
"But we're going to fill it--and get back the pearls, too."
Carl shook his head.
"I like to t'ink dot, aber it don'd vas bossiple. How ve do anyt'ing
ven ve shday here mit der car? Drymore von't come pack."
"I think he will," said Matt confidently. "I'll bet something handsome
that Hank and Spangler make that mountain too hot to hold Trymore, and
that he comes rushing for the car. Trymore won't know that we've found
out who he is, and he'll try to keep on with the Tomlinson rôle. We'll
let him think we're fooled, then capture him and recover the pearls."
"Dot vas some pright itees," returned Carl admiringly, pulling down his
fiery vest and smoothing the wrinkles out of it, "aber my vone pitzness
in life, schust now, iss to ketch Pringle und ged py Tenver. It seems
like ve vas gedding furder und furder avay from Tenver all der time.
You t'ink ve pedder shday righdt here, Matt?"
"Trymore saw us here last," answered Matt, "so it will be here that he
comes to find us."
"Und oof ve can ged avay mit him und mit der bearls," said Carl, "ve
vill fool der odder roppers, aber I don'd ged no shance ad Pringle.
'Wienerwurst!' He say it in der note. Pympy, vone oof dose tays, I make
him know vich iss der saussage. Yah, so!"
Matt had been listening for sounds of the flight and pursuit. They had
died out, shortly after the quartet of thieves had disappeared, but
Matt was confident that he would hear them again.
The contour of the mountain was such, at that place, that it would be
impossible for Trymore and Pringle to cross to the other side. They
would have to make along the slope, trusting to luck to dodge Hank and
Spangler and get back to the trail. Unless they were captured, it was a
foregone conclusion that Trymore and Pringle would try to reach the car.
Inasmuch as Hank was mounted, he would be able to press the fugitives
hard.
While the boys waited and watched, they heard the distant report of a
revolver. The dull echoes, ringing through the woods, were taken up by
a faint yell.
"Somepody vas shot!" cried Carl excitedly. "Oof it vas Pringle, I don'd
ged him; und oof id vas Drymore, ve don't ged der bearls."
"Listen!" said Matt. "Somebody is coming this way."
There was a crashing of brush up the slope, growing louder by swift
degrees. Matt sprang out, cranked up the engine, and hurriedly got back
into the car.
"Vat now?" queried Carl.
"I'm going to turn around," said Matt, "and be ready to rush Trymore
back to Ash Fork. He's coming--I'm sure of it. That means that we
capture him and recover the pearls. A big day's work, Carl!"
"Meppy ve ged some rake-offs, den, hey?" returned Carl. "Ve don'd got
mooch luck so far, oudt oof dis shake-oop."
Matt, having turned the Red Flier, brought the machine to a halt and
sprang out to be ready with the crank. If Trymore came, with Hank hot
at his heels, not a second could be lost in getting away.
The scrambling noise was still coming down the mountainside, growing
louder and louder, but with no one breaking into view. As Matt stood
by the front of the machine, trying to follow the sound with his eyes,
he saw a horseman appear in an opening among the timber. It was Hank.
He slid across the open space like a streak, bound down the slope and
evidently in pursuit of Trymore.
Just as Hank disappeared, a form tore through the bushes close to the
trailside and rushed for the car.
"Help!" cried the man. "Get me out of this or I'll be killed."
Poppety-pop! spluttered the engine, as Matt bent to the crank.
"Pringle!" shouted Carl; "oof it ain'd Pringle I vas a geezer! Oh, be
jeerful, eferypody. Come, Pringle, come to me! I peen vaiding here, und
somepody else vas vaiding pehindt, aber meppy you pedder dake shances
mit me."
A thrill of disappointment ran through Matt. He was expecting Trymore
with the pearls, and now to be forced to run away with Pringle looked
like losing out on the whole proposition.
But there could be no lingering with the hope of ultimately securing
Trymore. Hank and Spangler would be quick to understand the
possibilities of the car, in Trymore's case, and they might puncture a
tire, or do some other damage to eliminate the machine.
Pringle, caught between two fires, did not hesitate to take his chances
with Carl. With a wild leap he slammed himself on the foot-board and
against the tonneau. Carl had the door open, and laid hold of him and
dragged him in.
Matt, smothering his disappointment, slid into his seat and started the
car.
At that moment, Hank plunged out of the timber.
"Here, you!" he yelled to Matt. "Wait! I want that fellow!"
"You can't have him," shouted Matt, and jumped to the high gear.
Then away they went, covering the back trail as rapidly as they had
gone over it the other way.