Taken at a disadvantage and with two brawny ruffians ranged against him, Motor Matt was unable to make any defense. As he lay on the floor, head and shoulders still swathed in the window-curtain, one of his antagonists held him while the other bound his hands and feet with a rope. He was then lifted and carried for some distance. Naturally he could have no idea where or in what direction he was being carried.
A few steps were descended and he heard a door softly closed. The cool air of outdoors laved his hands—he was sensible of that, although the hot stuffiness of the curtain prevented the night air from reaching his face.
He was lifted over something, he did not know what, and laid down in cramped quarters. A conversation was going on around him, but in tones so low he was not able to distinguish the words. He fancied that he heard the girl's voice, although his head was so muffled he could not be sure.
Presently the unmistakable explosions of a motor came to him.
"Brady is taking me away somewhere in an automobile," he thought, and wondered where Carl was that he could not see the machine.
A moment later he felt a gentle, swaying motion as though he was being gently swung in a hammock.
Several minutes passed, and then Brady's voice spoke, in a tone so loud that Matt was able to hear what he said.
"Take the curtain off his head, Pete, and untie him. It's time he took hold here. Keep your revolver handy for use in case he gets obstreperous. He's full of ginger and will have to be tamed."
Matt felt some one working at his cords. They were stripped away quickly, and the curtain whisked from his head. He jumped up, the floor under him swinging with the quick move and almost upsetting him.
"Careful, there!" warned Brady. "Where do you think you are, anyhow?"