The foreman passed his bridle reins to Slim, dismounted, and laid his gun on the ground.
"We'll have to wait here till ye git back, won't we?" asked Slim.
"Sure," replied Jed. "We've lost the trail, an' thar ain't no manner o' use ter keep on ontil we find out somethin'."
"Then I'm goin' ter git down," said Slim. "We kin bunch up the critters an' smoke a little."
McGlory's temper was rapidly growing. The cool way in which Jed Spearman was planning to appropriate the Comet was more than McGlory could stand.
"You're a lot of tinhorns!" he cried. "This lad here," he waved his hand toward the king of the motor boys, "is Motor Matt, and he's making this flight on government business, mainly. You keep hands off, or you'll get into trouble."
"That's me!" whooped Spearman. "Trouble! I live on that. Get ready that flyin' machine, kase I'm hungry ter do my sixty miles an hour on the way back ter headquarters."
An idea suddenly popped into McGlory's head.
"This way, Matt," said he, stepping off to one side and beckoning Matt to follow.
The cowboys were a little suspicious, but their curiosity prompted them to inspect the Comet and leave Matt and McGlory to their own devices.