Motor Matt's Race

ot able to find out anything more than he already knew. Mrs. Spooner had about as much use for a Mexican as she had for an Indian, and that was no use a

of considerable importance, and she tried hard to find out something about its contents. In order to get away, Matt

slate that to mean 'Come to Prescott on Thursday. Be at the Briggs Hous

es

think, or is somebody

me, Chub. It may have something to d

the tip and see what it amounts to. Suppose I get that one-cylinder ma

get some money and hire a lawyer for Clip; then I'd like to ride out to the hills and look

ver it with m

all th

ks. We could go on the train, though, if you wanted to. I know Jack Moody, one of the engineers. He runs up to

en't given the Comet a real spin since I to

's actin' mighty like he belongs in the foolish-house, seems to me. It wouldn't hurt him much if he told

to do the square thing, and it hurts. Now, just as he's getting the better of that prejudice, if it came out that Pima Pete, one of the Dangerfield gang, was a relative of his, that would be like turning t

hesit

what?" a

n find the real robbers a

g order,"

smiled Matt, "and I'd tackle anything

mutt who must have spent most of his time playin' hooky when he went to sc

McKibben won't strain himself

them. Not knowin' what we do, Matt, an' considerin' the

. Maybe McKibben will shake himself together and send some de

think Dangerf

ill prove that Clip wasn't lying

t Dangerfield buried just ten thousand in double

ent out to meet his uncle, and now they think he put on those old clothes so he wouldn't be known when he committed the robbery! And wh

p thought of helping him, he'll walk right into the

Indian blood is no good, and he's been trying to change their notions. I've got something in my head. It's this: You know there were four or five of Dangerfield's gang got away the time Sheriff Burke, of Prescott, rounded the smugg

the way of it. But those two handy-boys may be on the way

bbers," said Matt, "maybe

hat do? Clip don't

ver to the officers. If we could find him, and make him swear to what h

strings to pull-either find the

d Matt pointed to the no

It's got all the earmarks of a false

y. It may not amount to anything, b

f a motor from the road

ng from a window. "There's McKibben

r, had pulled to a stop in front of Mrs. Spoo

saw Matt, then waved his

ub," said Matt. "Let's go

ed down-stairs and

Mr. McKibben?

nto his pocket and dr

ore than half an hour after I had posted that letter t

it contained good news of some sort. But he was

his cell here last night. Advise n

he yellow sheet. Another hope gone-an