"Who are they?" demanded the officer.
"Two pals of this red-whiskered man. He probably had them waiting in the background, just as we had you waiting to help us, officer."
"This ain't the last of this!" cried the officer hotly. "Which way did they go?"
Matt indicated the direction. The officer started off at a run, tugging at his pocket.
"Why don't you come along?" he demanded over his shoulder.
"One of them said something about getting away in a launch," returned Matt. "I didn't know but it was a boat that I have here, and I think it's well to stand around and see if they come back."
"I'll see where the scoundrels go, anyhow," said the officer, and vanished at a rapid pace.
"Are you hurt, Joe?" inquired Matt.
"My feelin's are badly injured," answered the cowboy. "The rap I got on the block don't count for much, although it was enough to drop me, right where I stood. They're a fine lot, those galoots. I reckon, it's a cinch that they're the chaps we want—and the ones we won't get. George will weep some more when he hears about it."