"I've given you the truth, Harris."
"You've been working on that Helen Brady case, haven't you?"
"Sure, but my hands are in the air. Everybody's hands are in the air. It's the strangest case you ever heard of, and there's absolutely no trace——"
Harris tossed the receiver onto the hooks and staggered away from the phone. What sort of underhand work was going on? Motor Matt and his chums were running right into trouble, and Harris realized that he had helped to start them on the way.
"An automobile!" he muttered, hurrying out of the headquarters' building. "I've got to have a fast one and get to that old quarry before ten o'clock. Egol, this is the worst thing I ever went up against!"
[CHAPTER III.]
BY THE OLD QUARRY.
Traveling by night in the Hawk was not a new experience for Motor Matt and his chums. When they had crossed the lake from Grand Haven, after the capture of Hector Brady, they had come by night. At that time they had had the moon to light their course, but on this trip to the old quarry the moon was new and they had to depend upon the stars.
As the night advanced, the stars grew brighter and they were able to distinguish the different features of the landscape below them. All was in shadow, more or less, but groves of trees were darker than the open stretches, and the highways were whitish lines dividing the country in squares. A cluster of lights marked the situation of a village, and stray gleams from below showed where the farm houses were located.