All three of the men were in the niche by that time.
"Where is the chink?" shouted Grattan.
The poppety-pop-pop of a motor in quick action came from without.
"He's tripped his anchor and is makin' off!" yelled Bunce.
"Stop him!" fumed Grattan, and instantly he followed Bunce and Pardo back through the swinging screen of vines and bushes.
Chuckling with delight, McGlory leaped erect, sprang to the vines, and parted them so he could look out.
Tsan Ti, his motor working splendidly, was streaking down the ravine toward the road. Bunce, who had led in the rush from the pocket, had mounted the other motor cycle and was coaxing his engine into action with the pedal.
"Catch him, Bunce!" bellowed Grattan.
Bunce's answer was lost in a series of explosions as his motor got to work. As he whirled away, Grattan and Pardo ran after him to watch the pursuit as long as possible.
And thus it chanced that good luck came McGlory's way, after all. He had pretended, when Grattan and the other two came into the pocket, that he was tied, and the excitement following Bunce's discovery that the mandarin was escaping prevented any examination of the cowboy's bonds. Now McGlory had the neighborhood of the pocket to himself, and within a dozen feet of where he stood was the blue touring car, unguarded!