The Chinaman, the king of the motor boys thought, must have been made of india rubber to bear so well the series of mishaps that had come his way. He came out of every one with astonishing ability to keep up his flight.
Matt's rush down the creek bank was not continued for long. Sam Wing saw him and made haste to effect a landing on the opposite bank. He emerged, a dripping and forlorn spectacle, and left a damp trail up the bank and into the woods.
Matt did not care to swim the creek in his clothes, and a tree, fallen partly over the stream, afforded him an opportunity to cross dry-shod. The tree was not a large one, and there was a gap of water at the end of it, where the trunk had been splintered and broken away.
With a clear, steady brain and sure feet the king of the motor boys passed to the end of his swaying, insecure bridge; then, with a leap, he cleared the stretch of water and landed on the bank. The force he had put into the jump displaced the tree and caused it to tumble into the creek. It had served its purpose, however, and Matt, without a backward look, tore away along the watery trail of the Chinaman.
[CHAPTER X.]
THE CHASE CONCLUDED.
When Matt came near enough to see Sam Wing, it seemed plain that the Celestial was yielding to the "blows of circumstance." His flight dragged. Time and time again he cast a wild look over his shoulder at the relentless pursuer, and tried in vain to increase his pace.
His random course crossed a road through the timber with a line of telegraph or telephone poles on one side of it. After a moment's hesitation, Sam Wing chose the road. It was easier going, no doubt, and for that reason probably appealed to him in his fagged condition.
But if it was easier for Sam Wing, so was it for Matt. Now, at last, the eventful chase was certainly approaching its finish.