"Our best clue," said he decisively, "is Bill Wily. We'd better go to the side show and have a talk with him."
"Bring him here, Matt," suggested Burton. "We can talk with him in this place to better advantage than in the side-show tent. I'll go with you and make sure he comes. The rest of you wait," and the showman started from the calliope tent after Matt.
Inquiry of the man on the door at the side show developed the fact that Bill Wily had started for town. He had been gone about five minutes, Matt and Burton were informed, and had left the show grounds for the street-car track.
"He's making a getaway!" averred Burton.
"That's the way it looks," agreed Matt. "We've got to stop him, if we can."
Without loss of time the king of the motor boys and the showman hustled for the place where the street-car track made a loop, just beyond a big concert garden. They were hoping to catch Wily before he could board a car.
But in this they were disappointed. A car was moving off in the direction of town, and all their frantic yells and gestures were powerless to secure the attention of the conductor.
"It'll be fifteen minutes before there's another car," panted Burton, "and by that time the 'barker' will be—the deuce only knows where. It's a cinch, Matt, that he's scared, and is running away. If there was an automobile handy, we could overhaul the car." Burton looked in every direction. "But, of course," he added, "whenever you want a chug-wagon there's none in sight."
A familiar humming drew Motor Matt's attention. Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw a motor-cycle spinning along the road from the direction of Grand Rapids. A young fellow of nineteen or twenty was in the saddle.
"There's something that will do—if we can borrow it," said Matt, and jumped into the road and waved his hands.