CHAPTER IX.
THE BREAK IN THE ROAD.
Several days before, when Matt had been planning to start for Denveron his motor-cycle, he had bought an auxiliary gasoline-tank. The tankthat came with the machine was attached behind the saddle, and heldfive quarts, sufficient for a run of 75 to 100 miles. The auxiliarytank was attached to the top tube, and its tubes and connections wereso arranged that it could be used independently of the tank behind.With both tanks filled, the _Comet's_ radius of action was increasedat least 75 miles--enough to carry the machine half-again as far asPrescott.
Matt had never experienced any trouble with the _Comet_. As a rule,common sense and ordinary thoughtfulness are enough to keep any goodmotor-cycle on the road without repair bills. The _Comet_ was alwaysas spick and span as when it came from the factory, for Matt groomedthe machine as he would have groomed a race-horse, and cleanliness isone of the first points to look after if a machine is to travel right.On his return from a trip he never failed to go over the motor-cyclewith wrench and pliers, to inject a few squirts of kerosene into thewarm cylinders, and to "turn over" the engine a few times. He was busymaking a final survey of the _Comet_ when Chub pounded up on Clip'smachine. A canteen, lashed to the head of the one-cylinder, showed thatChub had been thoughtful enough to secure a reserve supply of gasoline.
"All ready?" sang out Matt.
"Ready's whole family," answered Chub.
Two minutes later the boys were skimming north along the Cave Creekroad. Beyond the outlying canal they struck the hills, and here Mattinstructed Chub a little in nursing his machine--not to open themuffler when there was no real necessity, to let the burned oil outof the motor base at least once every fifty miles, and to cut off thepower when descending hills in order to cool and help the engine.
They were well into the hills before Matt told Chub about the secondletter, and showed it to him.
"Thunder!" exclaimed Chub. "It must be a swift bunch we're up against.But I guess they're four-flushin'. Anyhow," he grinned, "I'm not scaredso you can notice it."
"It makes me think," said Matt, "that there's something in that firstnote, in spite of Short's opinion."
"Sure," answered Chub. "That first note is lookin' better and betterto me. Different fists worked on those two letters. The last one musthave been jotted down by a fellow who'd been through the eighth grade,anyhow. How do you size 'em up?"
"It's all guesswork, Chub, but my guess is that some party intendsgiving us a tip, and that another one found it out, and is tryingto backcap the first man. The tip must be important, or the secondman wouldn't try to keep us away from Prescott. To follow the thingfarther, the second man may be one of the two who held up Fresnay."
"Keno! And we've landed with both feet right in something that seemsworth while. The second man is trying a bluff--but if he had knownMotor Matt better he might have saved himself the trouble."
"We'll keep our eyes skinned, all the same," said Matt. "If it'sreally a bluff, we won't lose anything by being careful; while if itisn't, we'll have a lot to gain."
"Correct. An ounce of prevention is worth a ton of cure."
The road, although it twisted back and forth between rocky hills, wassmooth and even. Both motor-cycles worked to perfection, and the boyswent spinning along at a leisurely clip, keeping a sharp watch allaround them.
At the town-pump, in Wickenburg, they stopped for a drink, then struckout for Skull Valley, where the railroad had an eating-house at whichthey had planned to get supper. They were still wary, although theprospect of trouble seemed to be growing more and more remote.
Chub, overconfident as usual, was just exulting over the way they had"called the bluff" of the unknown writer of the second note, whentrouble materialized like a bolt from the blue.
It was at a place where the road-bed was like asphalt, although crookedas a snake, and edged on both sides with rocky hills.
In passing a gap between two of the hills Matt heard sounds thataroused his apprehension. He might have been mistaken, but he thoughthe heard a scrambling of hoofs.
"Hit her up, Chub," said he, in a low voice. "Did you hear a noise onthe left of the road? I did, and I don't like it."
Just as the two machines forged ahead at increased speed, a shout camefrom behind the boys:
"Stop! Stop, or we'll shoot!"
Matt and Chub stole a quick look behind. Two horsemen were in the road,and one of them was armed with a rifle.
"Faster!" cried Matt. "Get around the next turn!"
There was no need of a spur for Chub. His idea that the writer of thatsecond note was "four-flushing" had proved to be a dream, and he wascoaxing his motor-cycle to the limit.
_Bang!_
The sharp report echoed and reechoed through the hills, and a spurt ofdust shot up between the two racing wheels.
"They're shooting at our tires!" called Matt.
"If they'll give us about a minute more," answered Chub, doubled overhis handle-bars, "they can blaze away all they please. They've got tohaul up if they do any straight shooting, and while they're standingstill we're getting into the distance. If---- Wow!"
Chub broke off with a startled yell. One of the bullets had passedaltogether too close to him for any sort of comfort.
The next moment the shoulder of a hill intervened between the boys andthe marksman. They were safe for the moment, but, above the noise oftheir machines, they could hear a flurry of pounding hoofs.
"They mean business, all right," said Chub grimly, "but if they've anotion they can overhaul us on a couple of cayuses, they've got anotherguess coming."
"Look!" shouted Matt suddenly; "there, ahead!"
Chub stared, and instinctively a shout of despair escaped his lips.
Ahead of the boys was a long, straight slope. At the foot of the slopethere was a break in the road, a gap crossing it at right angles andseven or eight feet wide.
"There were planks across that gap!" cried Chub. "Those scoundrelshave taken them away. They've got us, Matt!"
For a moment Motor Matt did not answer. He was gazing sharply at thebreak. The chasm seemed deep, even if it was not very wide, and wasevidently the course of a small stream. Just before the edge of thegap was reached, heavy freighting over the road had hollowed out theroad-bed.
A daring idea took form in Matt's mind.
"We'll get across!" he cried.
"How?" gasped Chub.
"That hollowed-out place--our machines will be thrown upward at theother side of it--_they'll leap across_!"
Chub's heart almost stood still. He was brave enough, but he did notunderstand the possibilities of the situation so well as Matt, and theattempt to hurl their motor-cycles across the gap looked like the worstkind of recklessness.
"Give her every ounce of power, Chub!" shouted Matt. "Head straight forthe gap and keep the middle of the road. Watch me; I'll take it first."
The _Comet_ was a much faster machine than the one Chub was riding. Upto that moment Matt had been holding back in order to stay alongsidehis chum; but now, in order to demonstrate the feasibility of thefearful leap he had suggested, he opened the throttle and forged intothe lead.
Chub, every faculty centered in his handle-bars, saw Matt duck downwardinto the hollow, shoot upward, spin through the air as though launchedfrom a catapult, then alight on the opposite side of the break a goodfour feet from the edge. What was more, the _Comet_ did not seem tomind the leap any more than a spirited horse would have done, andstarted on up the road in excellent style. Matt, however, halted andturned back.
There were some doubts in his mind about Chub. Clip's motor-cyclewasn't a very late machine and might not be able to duplicate the_Comet's_ performance. Far up the slope the horsemen could be seenracing after the boys at top speed. There was nothing else for it, Mattknew, but for Chub to take his chance.
Down into the hollow went Chub, then up and out, the one-cylinder'swheels spinning in mid-air. Down he came, safe by a scant margin, and abreath of relief rushed
through Matt's lips.
Baffled shouts came from the horsemen. Matt's hopes were dashedsomewhat by sounds which told him Chub's machine was beginning tomisfire.
"Use your pedals!" shouted Matt. "Open the throttle, Chub!"
Matt knew that the jolt the machine had had was probably the cause ofthe misfiring. The jar had perhaps caused the carburetter-float tostick, thus interrupting the regular flow of gasoline.
Opening the throttle did not seem to help. Matt, watching the horsemen,saw them getting ready to take the gap at a leap. To delay much longerwould surely mean capture.
"Hold down the priming-pin for a second!" yelled Matt.
He was making ready to go back to Chub's assistance, when the motortook hold in proper shape, and Chub, white and worried but mightilyrelieved, came gliding along.
"I'm a regular mutt in a pinch like that," said he. "Lost my headcompletely, and wouldn't have known the first thing to do if you hadn'tyelled."
"Let 'er out again," returned Matt. "We'll leave those two scoundrelsbehind, now, for good and all. The main thing is to get out ofrifle-range while they're leaping the gap."
Side by side the chums plunged away. Looking behind them, just beforethey took a turn, they saw the two horsemen swinging into the air andtaking the leap safely.
"We'll lead 'em now," gloried Chub, "clear into Skull Valley, if theywant to follow!"
Motor Matt's Race; or, The Last Flight of the Comet Page 9