"Count me in as one of the guard," spoke up Twomley, lighting a cigarette, "but send over some food and something to sit on. And," he finished, pointing to the weapon in the cowboy's hand, "Mr. McGlory might lend me that."
"McGlory will stay and help you with your guard duty," said Matt. "I'll have to hurry off now. I suppose Ping and Carl are at the show grounds and are looking after the aëroplane?"
"Ping!" exclaimed McGlory, looking around. "Why, where the nation is he? He was the one who brought us here, and I haven't thought of him until this minute. But Carl's at the grounds, Matt. Anyhow, one of the canvasmen is on duty at the aëroplane's berth."
"Don't fret about the machine," reassured Burton. "I'm going right back to the grounds and I'll look after it personally."
"Just a minute, gents," called Wily. "How did you fellows know we were under the floor."
"You walked in the soot," laughed Burton derisively. "McGlory can tell you all about that."
Thereupon he and Motor Matt left the room. They passed the trap in the hall floor, and Matt observed that it was flush with the boards and difficult to locate for any one who did not know it was there.
"I guess the trouble I had here, Burton," remarked Matt, as he and the showman passed through the front door, "will turn out to be a pretty good thing, after all."
"Not for Ben Ali," returned Burton, "if he is caught and turned over to Twomley."
"I was thinking of Margaret Manners," said Matt.