CHAPTER XIV.

  DOWN THE MOUNTAIN.

  "Dat engine o' deirs went wrong just at de right time t' save ourbacon, Matt," said Josh.

  Matt tossed a look backward. The runabout was at a stop, and Brisco wason the ground, tinkering frantically.

  "If he knows what to do," said Matt, "he'll be able to come on again.But he'll have more trouble; and he'll continue to have trouble untilhe takes time to overhaul his fuel-tank."

  "What did yous do?" asked the boy.

  "Mixed a handful of sand with his gasoline."

  "W'en?"

  "While we were hung up in front of those rocks Spangler had laid forus."

  "Didn't dat geezer see yous?"

  "I got out of the way before Brisco showed up; and Spangler, at thetime, was away looking for the man in the notch."

  "Chee, but you're a wonder! Motor Matt heads de percession an' carriesde banner! Yous t'ought o' all dat while I was hustlin' t' git behinddem rocks! Did yous t'ink we was goin' t' have a race?"

  "I didn't know but we might. Anyhow, I thought it good policy to fixthe machine so it wouldn't be reliable. What's the news from the rear,Josh?"

  "Brisco is gittin' back in his seat."

  "Is he coming on?"

  "Dat's wot."

  "Fast as ever?"

  "I don't see no diff'rence in de runnin'."

  "Well, something is sure to go wrong, just as it did before. One grainof sand clogged the needle-valve, Josh, and there's a thousand moregrains to come down the supply-pipe. Face around a minute. The roadforks here. Which one shall we take? Do you remember coming this way?"

  The boy flopped around in his seat. The Red Flier was rushing toward aplace where the road forked. Both roads were bordered by rocky walls,and both had the appearance of being equally well traveled--whichwasn't saying much for the travel, at that.

  "I don't remember nuttin'," answered the boy, "bein' scart stiff all dew'ile I was in de runabout. I'd say go t' de right. Dat's always a goodt'ing t' do."

  "If we had the least notion which way Fairview lay we could shape ourcourse a little better. But we don't know, so we'll take chances and goto the right."

  There was a slowing of speed while Matt made the turn. For a longdistance this fork was a straightaway stretch and fairly level. Mattand Josh were congratulating themselves on the fact that they had madea fortunate choice, when suddenly they whirled out on a vista thatsurprised them.

  At the end of the straightaway stretch, a sudden angle brought theside of a steep mountain under the boy's eyes. The road could beseen clinging to the mountain's side, describing horseshoe afterhorseshoe--edging its way between dizzy chasms and high cliffs.

  "Wow!" gasped Josh, and collapsed in his seat. "Right here's w'ere wefall off de eart'."

  Matt took another look behind. The runabout, with the stern, relentlessface of Brisco over the wheel, was surging toward them.

  "Here we go!" called Matt. "Hang on, Josh!"

  "I'm glued! Yous can't shake me!"

  The boy was game, and Matt flung the Red Flier at the mountainside anddown the ribbon of treacherous road.

  There were places where a cliff overhung the trail, and the wheels onthe left almost scraped the rocks, while those on the right barelytracked on the brink of a gulf.

  The boy's face went white, but his eyes glimmered brightly. He lookedback from time to time and saw the runabout sliding after them.

  A quick fear had rushed to Matt's brain. Oddly enough, it was not afear for his own safety, for he knew the Red Flier and knew what hecould do with it; but the runabout! If that trickle of sand cut off thepower and caused the machine to slew ever so slightly, it would go overthe chasm's edge and carry Brisco and Spangler with it!

  The world would have been better off, perhaps, if such a mishaphad come to pass; but Matt did not want it that way. His owninstrumentality in the matter would have been too hideously clear.

  And yet, if something did not happen to the runabout, the machine mightcollide with the Red Flier and drive it over the brink.

  Matt knew he must keep ahead. Never had he driven more masterfully thanthen. His nerves were steady, his brain alert, and every inch of thatcurving, treacherous down grade was covered by his eyes.

  It was more like falling down a hill than riding down. The Red Flierquivered like a thing of life, seeming to realize what was expected ofit, and responding nobly.

  Far off, over the level plain at the mountain's foot, could be seen thelittle cluster of houses that represented Fairview. It glowed in themorning sun like a toy village on a toy map.

  As the road curved, struck a short straightaway, then curved again, thetown swept vividly into view and again as quickly vanished.

  At the most desperate part of the trail a rock had crumbled from thewall and rolled to the edge of the chasm. There it lay, almost underthe nose of the rushing car.

  The boy cast a despairing look into Motor Matt's set, determined face.All he saw was a swift gleam of the gray eyes.

  Crash!

  The car, skilfully guided so that it touched the inward side of theboulder, forced it from the edge and sent it bounding and smashingdownward into the gulf.

  A sharp breath tore through the boy's lips. Confidence again tookpossession of him. After that escape, what difficulty could come upthat Motor Matt was not able to conquer?

  Matt seemed to be made of steel. With one foot on the brake and bothhands on the wheel, he kept rigidly to his work.

  "How're they making it behind, Josh?" he called.

  The boy knelt in his seat and looked back up the steep incline.

  Fortune was riding with Brisco that day. But for that he must have beenhurled from the trail in a dozen places.

  Driving a car was comparatively new work for him, and the chances arethat never before had he been on such a dangerous piece of road. Yet hewas naturally a man of iron nerve, and would not hold back where MotorMatt led.

  Spangler, from his appearance, was as frightened a man as there everwas in Arizona. A gray pallor had spread over his face, and his eyeswere fairly popping from his head. Gripping his seat with both hands,he braced himself with his feet against the forward dip of the car.

  "Dey're slidin' after us, cull," reported the boy.

  "Gaining?"

  "Dat's wot, but not like dey did on de level road."

  "The foot of the mountain is just ahead of us. Can we get there beforethey overtake us?"

  "Well, mebby we kin, but I wish de foot o' de mountain was half a milenearer dan wot it is."

  Facing about in his seat, Josh looked at the foot of the mountain forhimself.

  They were dropping toward it swiftly. There were no morecurves--nothing but a straight fall, a shoot between bordering rocksand then a cheerful reach of road over the plain.

  "We're in luck t' git out o' dis widout a broken neck," said Josh."Chee, but dat level place looks good t' me."

  "The Flier's a dandy car!" declared Matt.

  "She's got a dandy driver, an' dat's no dream. W'ere'd we been widoutMotor Matt at de steerin'-wheel? Yous is a four-time winner, an' dere'sodders dat'll hear me say it."

  "The runabout will be hot after us as soon as we hit the level groundagain."

  "Dey'll never ketch us, cull. I don't care how hot dey come, wit' youshandlin' de Flier."

  With a final spurt the red car rushed through the rocks, and, for thefirst time since it had taken that up-and-down trail, both ends were ona level.

  As they glided out onto the plain, Matt cast a look backward. There wasa feeling of relief came over him at sight of the runabout chargingthrough the rocks at the mountain's foot.

  But, as he looked, and just as the runabout was on the point ofstriking level ground, there was a jerk to the left, a crash, and asudden stop.

  Brisco pitched forward over the wheel, shot clear past the hood, anddoubled up and rolled along the stony trail.

  Spangler went out on the left side, ricochetting into the air andturning a
couple of grotesque somersaults. Like Brisco, when hedropped, he lay still.

  A sharp breath escaped Matt's lips. Turning the Red Flier, he startedback until he had come almost upon the silent form of Brisco; then hebrought the Flier to a halt and jumped out.

  "Chee, Moses!" muttered Josh, awed by the abrupt termination of thechase. "Do yous t'ink dem guys is killed, Matt?"

  "That's what we've got to find out," flung back Matt, hurrying toBrisco and kneeling down beside him.

  Human enmity seemed a paltry thing to Matt as his hand went gropingover Brisco's breast, feeling for the heart-beats. A thrill ofsatisfaction shot through him as he found that Brisco was alive.

  Hurrying on to Spangler, he was immensely relieved to find that worthysitting up in the road and drawing a hand over his dazed eyes.

  "What--what happened?" faltered Spangler.

  "Nothing to what's going to happen now, Spangler," answered Matt, andpicked up the second and last revolver which the ruffian had had abouthim.

  "There ought to be some ropes in the runabout, Josh," called Matt. "Goand get them."

 
Stanley R. Matthews's Novels