"Yes," returned Clipperton grimly. "He thinks we started for Phœnix."
"What time is it now, Clip?"
"We're four miles from the Bluebell. It's taken us an hour. So it must be nearly three."
"Sixteen miles from Phœnix and only a little more than an hour left! I'm expecting too much, Clip. Susie has had an hour to find the major and get Penny started this way with the Comet. Somebody hasn't been able to make good and I guess I'm let out."
"No!" shouted Clip. "What's that coming this way? See!"
Clipperton pointed along the main road where it ran in a light streak across the desert. A cloud of dust, more like a column of smoke than anything else, was sweeping toward the hills.
Matt held his breath as he gazed. The dust cloud seemed fairly to jump at them; then, suddenly, the wind whipped it aside, and brave Ed Penny, glorious old Penny, could be seen crouching upon the saddle of the Comet. He was shooting for the hills like a cannon-ball.
"Hurrah!" yelled Clipperton, jerking off his cap and throwing it into the air. "Motor Matt is going to win!"
The Comet took the "rise" like a bird on the wing. Penny, covered with dust and half-blinded, halted only when he heard Matt's voice calling to him. Clip sprang to support the machine while Penny got off.
"That you, King?" queried Penny, dizzy and staggering.