Thinking Clipperton was going to attack him, Matt squared away and put up his hands. At that moment he was seized from behind and hurled to the ground.
"Stand off!" he heard Clipperton yell furiously. "He's here to fight me! What does this——"
"Shut up, you fool!" threatened a voice, and was followed by a rush of feet in Clipperton's direction.
Matt was struggling with all his might, but there were four boys crushing him down and strangling him to prevent outcry. Who the boys were he could not see, as there were handkerchief masks over their faces.
"Quick!" muttered a voice. "Where's that rope?"
Matt was turned roughly on his face, several hands fumbling at his wrists and ankles and at least one pressing a cloth, soaked with some drug, to his nostrils.
Presently, as in a dream, he felt himself lifted and borne hurriedly away. His senses were rapidly leaving him, and he had no idea as to what direction he was being taken. There was a mumble of voices in his ears and sounds of stumbling feet. Presently he was lifted and crumpled into a cushioned seat. A chug chug of a starting engine came faintly to his ears, and he felt a swift forward movement of the seat on which he was lying. The cloth was still covering his face and stifling him. Then, a moment more, everything became a blank.
[CHAPTER XII.]
COOL VILLAINY.