"If he's one of Burke's men," argued Matt, "what will he do with the two roughs who have the machine, and are working for Bascomb?"
"He'll get the best of 'em," persisted Clip. "Anyhow, Bascomb gets the roadster. See if he don't."
"He's not armed, and the other two men are."
"Never you mind, Matt. Watch how it comes out."
Matt got off the Comet and sat down on the rocks.
"How long are we going to be hung up here, Clip?" he asked.
"Till it's safe for us to pass the Tanks. It won't be long, now, if Bascomb gets in his work."
Clip braced his crippled machine up alongside the Comet and dropped down beside his chum.
"What became of—of your uncle, Clip?" queried Matt, after a moment.
It was a delicate subject, and he hated to approach it. Still it covered a point that he felt he ought to know about.