CHAPTER II.
A QUEER SITUATION.
Motor Matt was never long about making up his mind as to what he wasgoing to do. In the present instance an expedient flashed through hisbrain which might, or might not, succeed.
The rope which had been used to hoist the aeroplane to the staging onthe pole was a long one. As Matt ran through the gate, he flung thenoose which he had tied in the rope over a hitching-post, and thenleaped across the road.
By that time the four horses had crossed the bridge and were thunderingon toward the front of the house. Matt, holding the rope firmly,stretched it so as to bring it across directly in front of the leaders.
Clipperton, instantly divining Matt's plan, started toward him, withthe intention of helping him hang onto the end of the rope. But Matthad other plans for him and Chub.
"Keep back, Clip!" he yelled. "When I make 'em slow down, you and Chubgrab the bits."
Just then the front wheels of the wagon separated from those in therear. The "reach" went on with the forward axle, and the back wheelsspun around, dashed across the road, and smashed into the fence. Theend of the "reach" had struck the ground with terrific force, and thegirl was dragged along with it.
Why didn't she let go? was the thought that plunged through Matt'smind. The next moment he had no time to think or to do anything elsebut give his attention to the work in hand.
There was a shock like an earthquake as the front horses of the teamhit the rope. Matt, clinging like grim death to the stout hemp, wasjerked into the air and hurled forward and inward. The pace of theleaders was checked, and the wheel-horses tried to play leap-frog withthem, the result being that the whole team became entangled in theharness.
Clip and Chub, throwing themselves at the heads of the leaders, grabbedthe bits. Before the rope was pulled from Matt's hands, the horses wereat a standstill.
As soon as Clip and Chub had the team in hand, Matt ran to the girl.She was lying on the ground close to the end of the "reach" and anexclamation escaped Matt's lips when he saw that she was tied to thepiece of timber that had connected the front wheels with those behind.
"Is she hurt?" called Clip.
"She must be," answered Matt. "I don't see how she could go throughwhat she has without being hurt--and badly hurt at that. She'sunconscious. Some one tied her to the wagon."
He went down on his knees, and, with his pocket-knife, severed the ropethat secured the girl to the "reach."
He was about to pick her up in his arms when a panting voice called outto him:
"Leaf her alone! I will be taking care of her."
Matt straightened on his knees and looked at the speaker. The manwas a Mexican, and had a surly, ill-omened face. He was covered withdust, and had evidently been racing after the team on foot. Behind himanother Mexican was coming.
The little girl was American--Matt could tell that by her looks. Thatbeing the case, why was she with the two Mexicans? And why had she beentied to the wagon?
"Does the team belong to you?" demanded Matt.
"Yas, he b'long to me. I left him by de store, an' he git scare' an'make a run off. _Carramba_! He bust my wagon all up. I take care of degirl, senor. She hurt, huh?"
The other Mexican, scarcely giving a look at the girl, passed on to thehorses and began to pound them with a stick that he was carrying. Hisattack was so brutal that Clip grabbed the stick out of his hand, andwould have laid it over his back if Chub had not interfered.
"Cut it out, Clip," said Chub. "The greaser don't know any better.About half o' these wood-haulers ain't any more'n half-baked."
"He'll have the team running again," scowled Clipperton. "He ought tohave some sense pounded into him."
Meanwhile, Matt, paying no heed to the other Mexican, had picked upthe little girl and was carrying her toward the gate. The Mexican ranafter him and grabbed his arm.
"You gif her to me!" he shouted.
"This is the most ungrateful outfit of greasers I ever met up with,"cried Clip, hurrying toward the second man. "That'll do for you!" hesaid angrily, catching the fellow by the collar and throwing him back.
The Mexican whirled, his little eyes glittering like a snake's. Onehand darted toward the breast of his coat.
"Look out Clip!" warned Chub. "He's going to pull a knife on you."
Clip still had the club he had taken from the Mexican's companion, andhe squared away threateningly. There was a scar in the shape of a crosson the man's swarthy cheek, and it glowed redly with the anger thatfilled him.
Before the clash could proceed any farther, a man came galloping upon horseback. The boys recognized him at once as Mr. McKibben, thesheriff. The Mexicans also seemed to recognize him, for the one by thehorses slunk in between the animals' heads, and the other at once losthis truculent manner.
"What's going on here?" demanded McKibben, peering sharply at theMexican, and then swerving his gaze to Matt and the unconscious form inhis arms.
"The team ran away, Mr. McKibben," explained Matt, "and this girl wastied to the 'reach.' It looks as though she was badly hurt. I want tocarry her into the house and this fellow was trying to take her awayfrom me."
"H'm!" muttered the sheriff, getting down from his horse, "it's a cinchthe girl don't belong to them." He stepped closer to the Mexican, hiseyes on the scar. "Where'd you get the girl?" he demanded, one handgroping in his pocket.
"The _nino_?" returned the Mexican shiftily. "She b'long to a friend ofmine, senor. I take her to him. I no like to leave her here."
The sheriff's hand came out of his pocket with a rush, bringing a pairof handcuffs along with it. In less time than it takes to tell it, oneof the cuffs was about the Mexican's right wrist, while the other wassnapped about McKibben's left.
The Mexican gave a backward jump, but the sheriff, with a pull ofthe arm, drew him back with a jerk that almost lifted him off hisfeet. Once more the Mexican's hand was plunged into the breast of hiscoat. It was the left hand this time, however, and he was awkward inusing it. McKibben's fingers gripped the wrist of the hand as it waswithdrawn and shook a knife out of it.
"None of that, Juan Morisco!" growled McKibben. "You see, I know you.I've had you watched ever since you reached town, so you'll just walkalong with me and not make any trouble about it."
There was a rattle of hoofs up the road.
"The other one's making a getaway, Mr. McKibben," sang out Chubexcitedly. "He took one of the horses and---- Holy smoke, watch him go!"
The sheriff turned and flashed a look after the retreating horseman.
"I can follow him," said Clip. "I'll use your horse."
"Let him go," answered McKibben. "He's only the wood-hauler. This isthe man I want. Take the girl into the house, King," he added. "Youmight ride my horse to the corral, Clipperton, and get a doctor."
"Do you know anything about this girl?" asked Matt, looking down atthe head that was lying limply over his arm.
"Not a thing; but I'll bet money there's crooked work of some kindgoing on. The girl didn't belong with these Mexicans."
"If they hadn't tied her to the wagon," said Matt, "she would have gotclear of that accident without being so badly hurt."
"We'll get Juan in the sweat-box and find out about it."
"What have you pinched the greaser for, Mr. McKibben?" asked Chub.
"Don't get so curious, McReady," parried the sheriff. "Hitch thosethree horses to the fence, and I'll send some one after them and thewreck of the wagon. Do what you can for the girl, King."
Clip got on the sheriff's animal and started for the bridge; Chub wentto the horses which, by that time, had quieted down, and started towardthe fence with them; McKibben took his prisoner toward town; and Mattpushed on through the gate and into the house.
This was a mysterious affair from start to finish, and he was wonderingwhat would come of it.
Motor Matt's Century Run; or, The Governor's Courier Page 2