With a shout of laughter the men arose from where they had been playing the game. They seemed to be railing at one chap, who looked at the auto as if he feared it might blow up and kill him.
“You’re in for it,” remarked Vasco. “Whatever you do don’t make a fuss.”
With a somewhat sheepish air a young Mexican, one of Vasco’s crowd, came near the auto. He made a sign that he wanted to take Noddy’s place. The latter frowned and spoke in English, only a word or two of which the native understood.
“You shan’t have this machine,” spoke Noddy. “It’s mine, and if you try to run it you’ll break it.”
But the Mexican paid no heed. He came close up to Noddy, grabbed him by the collar and hauled him from the car. Noddy was the only one in it at that time, Berry, Dalsett and Pender having gone off a short distance.
“Let go of me!” cried Noddy, trying to draw a small revolver he carried.
The Mexican only grunted and retained his grip.
“If you don’t let me alone I’ll fire!” exclaimed the youth. He had his revolver out, and the Mexican, seeing this, allowed his temper to cool a bit. But there was an angry look in his eyes that meant trouble for Noddy.
“Now you fellows quit this gambling,” commanded Vasco. “We’ll have hard work ahead of us in a little while, and we don’t want any foolishness. Leave Noddy alone. Don’t you know if any one tries to run that machine that hasn’t been introduced to it, the engine will blow up!”
“Diablo!” exclaimed the Mexican who had lost at cards and who was about to attempt to operate the auto. “I will let it alone!”