The next moment he understood what the last resource was the two men were going to fall back upon.
There came a "pop" like an exploding fire-cracker, and a bullet whistled past Matt's ear. Bending lower over the handlebars, he opened the throttle with a twist of his left hand. The road was down-hill and the Comet was going like a thunderbolt.
In about two seconds Matt had caught up with Clip; then, in an instant more, both boys were screened from their enemies by a turn in the road.
[CHAPTER VII.]
SMOKE-SIGNALS.
"Thunder!" muttered Clip, as the breakneck pace was slackened a little. "Just made it, Matt. By the skin of our teeth. And we didn't dump their gasoline into the road, either. They'll be after us just a-smoking when they get that new tire on."
"We're playing in great luck, Clip, to get off as well as we did," answered Matt. "Here, take your two quarts of gasoline."
Clip took the canteen and hung the strap over his handlebars.