From their earnest talk it was clear that they were plotting mischief. Wishing that he could overhear something of what was said, Matt began creeping carefully along the path. By getting a few yards nearer he was sure that he would be within ear-shot.
Just as he had nearly reached the coveted point for which he was making, and the mumble of talk was breaking up into an occasional word which he could distinguish, the conversation broke off with a chorus of excited exclamations.
Matt started up, at first fearing he had been seen, and that the four in the road were coming to capture him. But in this he was mistaken. All four of them, as a matter of fact, had started in his direction, but they abruptly halted and whirled around. Matt's heart jumped when he saw what it was that had claimed their attention.
It was the phantom auto!
The white runabout was wheeling swiftly along the road in the direction of the treacherous cliff trail. The streaming lights of the touring-car were full upon the ghostly runabout, showing the vacant seats distinctly. The weird spectacle was more than enough to fill the four men with momentary panic. They stood as though rooted to the ground, watching the runabout turn of its own accord from the road, pass the touring-car, and then come neatly back into the road again.
An oath broke from one of the men. Leaping to the touring-car he cranked up the machine quickly and hopped into the driver's seat. Two others jumped in behind him, one in front and the other behind, Sercomb being the only one who remained at the roadside.
Swiftly the touring-car was turned and headed in pursuit. Then, suddenly, there came the report of a firearm, shivering through the still air.
At first, Matt thought one of those in the touring-car had fired at the runabout; then, a moment more, he knew he was mistaken.
The shot had come from the runabout and had punctured one of the touring-car's front tires.
The big car limped and slewed until the power was cut off and it came to a halt. Those who were in the car piled out, sputtering and fuming, and Sercomb ran forward and joined them. Together, all four watched the white phantom whisk out of sight.