Ben Ali leaned on a club, leaned and watched with never a move toward running away. Probably he was speculating as to whether his confederate, Dhondaram, had learned to operate the air craft.
Matt gave Ben Ali scant time to come to a conclusion. Quick work was now in order, and the Comet ducked downward and slid through the air with slowing motor. Guided by a true, steady hand, the wheels brushed the roadway, then began to turn as the weight of the machine rested more heavily upon them. A short run of a dozen feet brought the Comet to a stop.
Ben Ali had not stirred from the place where Matt had first seen him standing.
Gathering the white robe about him, Motor Matt stepped hurriedly to the ground and ran toward Ben Ali.
The Hindoo, staring serpent-like, recoiled, his red robe falling away slightly as his hands raised the club.
"Ben Ali," cried the king of the motor boys, "I have caught you at another of your tricks. Did you think I was Dhondaram? Dhondaram is a prisoner, and you will soon join him in jail."
There followed a tense moment, during which Ben Ali's eyes glowed and scintillated with their marvelous powers, and his hands tightened on the bludgeon.
It was not a time to delay matters, and the young motorist made ready for desperate work against the arrival of the automobile.
"Maskee!" cried the astounded Hindoo, as Motor Matt leaped at him.
Ben Ali's amazement appeared to hold him paralyzed for the moment. It was not until Matt had caught the club that he aroused himself and began vigorous resistance.