It was eight o'clock when Matt, McGlory, Ping, and Black ducked out of Jimtown, and struck into the trail that followed the railroad track and the river. Black attended to the driving, and Matt occupied the seat at his side. McGlory and Ping occupied the tonneau.
Matt explained to Black that there was a car, somewhere ahead, which they wanted to beat to the post trader's store at Fort Totten; also, that the car ahead was filled with men who were not on friendly terms with Matt and his companions.
Black was a man of spirit.
"You want to pass that car, then," said he, "and you want to dodge trouble?"
"Exactly," agreed Matt. "We don't want to butt into any trouble if we can help it. A whole lot depends upon our getting to the post trader's store right side up with care, and ahead of the other outfit."
"We'll do what we can," and Black nursed the car to its best speed.
The night was cool, the sky was cloudless, and the two acetylene lamps burned holes in the dark far in advance of the car as it devoured the miles. The forward rush, and the motor's music, thrilled Matt as they always did whenever he was connected with a speeding engine.
They whipped through a little town, hardly glimpsing the scattered lights before they had left them astern.
"This machine is a back number," remarked Black, "but she can slide along pretty well, for all that."
"You're right," said Matt. "I never saw a car with a rear door that could hold a candle to this one. But the road helps. It's like a boulevard."