"Yes!" shouted Matt, gripping the brave fellow's hand. "Bully boy, Penny! How's everything at the park?"
"Panic! Mile race lost because Clip wasn't there. All Phœnix wild because King is missing. Major red-headed. Jerked me out of the high-school bunch and snatched me into town in his automobile; threw me onto the Comet and offered me twenty-five dollars if I'd get the machine to you inside of an hour, and fifty dollars if you got to the park in time for the race. Jinks, but that machine is a dandy!"
Matt and Clip were lifting the Comet around. Clip held the machine while Matt rose to the saddle.
"Wait!" roared Penny; "don't start yet."
"Why not?" asked Matt.
"Hawley is coming! See that dust? Pull the Comet out here beside the road and crouch down so we can't be seen when the dust blows away. The driver of the car may take the other road at the forks."
Here was startling news—news that might snatch success out of Matt's hands just when the prospect of victory seemed brightest.
Another dust cloud was coming. As the three boys drew aside and crouched down the cloud dissipated slightly and through it they could see Dirk Hawley's motor-car, hitting nothing but high places and reaching for the hills like a streak.
"He saw the major grab me and rush me away from the park," explained Penny, referring to Hawley. "His driver and another man were in the car besides himself. They took after me. I led them by a quarter of a mile at the bridge over the Arizona Canal. They stopped there and the man in the tonneau with Hawley got out. The whole bunch means trouble! What's Hawley got to do with this, anyhow?"
"He's got a lot to do with it," muttered Matt, "but I haven't time to explain now. Ah, look at the cowboy, Clip!"