In front of the niche, standing in a place where it had been backed from the road on the "reverse," was the blue automobile. Leaning against the automobile were the two motor cycles; and from the tonneau of the car, as Grattan and Bunce approached with their prisoners, arose the form of Pardo.
"Well, well!" exclaimed Pardo, thrusting his head out from under the top. "If we haven't got visitors! Where did you pick up the mandarin, Grattan?"
"Between here and the Gardenville road," answered Grattan. "It was easy work. Both the chink and the cowboy were kind enough to yell and tell us where they were."
Pardo, understanding little of what had really occurred, opened his eyes wide.
"Tell me more about it," said he.
"After I get the prisoners in the pocket. Bunce, bring a rope. Hold McGlory, Pardo, while he's doing it."
Pardo jumped down from the automobile and caught the cowboy's arm.
"I guess you're a heap easier to deal with than your friend, Motor Matt," was his comment.
"No guess about it," said McGlory, "it's a cinch. But I'm not fretting any."
The cowboy's eyes were on the stolen car. What a pleasure it would have been to snatch that automobile out of Grattan's clutches, leaving him and his rascally companions stranded in the hills! But that was a dream—and McGlory had already had too many dreams for his peace of mind.