"Also, you try get back de box that b'long to you, de little lacquered box. Remember that, Haidee. Get de box if you can and bring it with de money to Uncle Ben Ali at de Linton Hotel in Lafayette."
"Yes."
"And you all time forget when you wake dat you Margaret Manners, and——"
Something happened to the hypnotist, right then and there.
Unable to endure longer the scene transpiring under their eyes, the boys had crept forward until they were close to Ben Ali and Aurung Zeeb.
Matt, behind Ben Ali, arose suddenly and caught the Hindoo by the shoulders, flinging him down on his back and holding him there with both hands about his throat.
McGlory, it had been planned, should make a simultaneous attack, in the same manner, upon Aurung Zeeb; but that individual was keener-eyed than his companion. He saw McGlory just as the cowboy was about to spring. With a loud cry of warning, Aurung Zeeb broke away in a panic and fled into the timber.
McGlory did not follow him. Ben Ali, choking and wriggling under the tense fingers of the king of the motor boys, had made a desperate effort and drawn his knife. The cowboy had glimpsed the blade, shimmering in a gleam of sun, and had leaped forward and caught the Hindoo's hand.
"We've got the scoundrel!" exulted McGlory. "I reckon this is the last stunt of this sort he'll ever lay hand to."
Ben Ali tried to speak. Matt saw the attempt and removed his rigid fingers from the prisoner's throat, slipping his hands down and gripping one of the man's arms.