“Good-bye, boys, you’ll never catch us now,” exultingly cried Luther Barr.
A short time later they rolled into White Willow, where, on account of the size of the party, a whole house—of which there were many vacant in the half-abandoned settlement—had been engaged. As the autos drew up the downpour ceased and the growls of thunder went rolling away in the distance.
“Say, that feller’s bin mighty quiet; we’d better have a look at him,” suggested Frank Higgins; “maybe you tapped him too hard, Wild Bill.”
“Not me,” laughed the other. “I’ve stunned too many of ’em for that, but he fit so hard I had to wrap him up in a blanket.”
“He throwed it over him so sudden I didn’t even see his face,” said Noggy admiringly; “he’s a quick worker.”
“Well, that makes no difference; I knowed him the minute I seed him,” confidently declared Wild Bill; “you gave me a good description—gray whiskers, tanned skin and a gray hat. Here he is as large as life.”
He drew back the blanket that had covered a figure lying in the tonneau of the big car. As he did so, Luther Barr and the others who were crowding round with a lantern gazed on the still features with a howl of rage.
“You fool,” fairly shrieked Barr, springing at Wild Bill in his anger, “that’s the wrong man!”
CHAPTER XVIII.
WIRELESS.
“What is to be done?” It was Frank who spoke, and there was a note of despair in his voice.