"I don't like the looks of things," called the cowboy, in a guarded tone, from the front of the blue car.
"Why not?" asked Matt.
"Can't tell yet. You fellows stay where you are and keep mum."
The noise of the other automobile had grown to proportions which proved that it was almost at hand. McGlory said something, but it was impossible for Matt or Boggs to hear what it was.
The other car stopped so close to the blue automobile that the mud guards almost scraped. Matt, from the depths of the tonneau, caught sight of a high-powered roadster with two business-like appearing men on the seats. But they were not Grattan and Pardo.
"That's the car, sure as shooting!" declared one.
"Get out, Gridly," said the second man, "and look at the number."
Gridly jumped down from the roadster and hurried to the rear of the touring car.
"We've won out, Banks!" he called. "The number's eighty-one-two-sixty-three."
"What's the matter?" inquired Matt, rising in the tonneau and looking out from under the top.