"You're not going to do any more shooting, Siwash Charley," said Matt, his voice steady. "You took two shots at us last night, and if either one of them had struck me, or any of my friends, you and Murgatroyd would have paid dearly for it."
The mention of Murgatroyd caused Siwash to drop his gun suddenly.
"Murgatroyd hasn't got a thing ter do with this," he roared. "It's my own affair I'm settlin'."
"Murgatroyd has got everything to do with this!" retorted Matt. "He got that car for you, and sent you out of Jamestown last night. You hoped to reach the fort ahead of us—and you'd certainly have done so if we'd waited until this morning and taken the train. If you make any trouble for me here, Murgatroyd will be arrested in Jamestown just as quick as a message can be wired to the police. And you'll make trouble for yourself, too, for you played a trick in getting that aëroplane off the government reservation. You can show your teeth as much as you please, but if you try to bite you'll regret it."
"I'm done chinnin' with you!" whopped Siwash Charley, once more bringing his gun to his shoulder. "Turn that ottermobill t'other way, an' hike out o' this. Ye got a minute left."
Black got out of the machine, and walked around to the crank.
"Leave the crank alone, Black," ordered Matt. "That scoundrel's a coward, and he doesn't dare to shoot."
Black hesitated.
"Better do as he says, pard," observed McGlory, climbing over the back of the seat and ranging himself shoulder to shoulder with Matt.
The cowboy's words were addressed to Black. The latter retreated from the front of the machine, and stood at the roadside, watching developments anxiously.