"When you tune up that way," said the cowboy, "it means mischief. There was another man with the Hottentot. Do you think the hombre was this Grattan sharp?"
"No. Grattan is expecting the sailor at Purling to-morrow. This was some one else."
"The ruby thieves have quite an extensive gang. It's walk for us, from here to Catskill."
"From here to the first farmhouse," corrected Matt. "We'll get some one to take us to Catskill with a horse and buggy."
He bit off his words crisp and sharp, which, to McGlory, proved how deeply he resented the scurvy trick by which they had been lured away from the motor cycles.
"How easy it is to understand things when you look back at' em," philosophized the cowboy, swinging along at Matt's side, down the dark road. "The webfoot and his pal fired that shot and raised a yell for help, then they jumped up and down in the bushes, and the result had all the effect of a knock-down and drag-out. One-Eye must have had us spotted, and he and his pal were lingering in the trailside brush, watching for our headlights. Oh, yes, it was easy. The 'illustrious ones' tumbled over themselves to fall into the trap. If I had that——"
"There's a farmhouse," said Matt, and indicated a point of light close to the foot of the mountain. "Nearly every house in these parts is either a boarding house or a hotel. We can get a rig, all right, I'm pretty sure."
[CHAPTER X.]
THE DIAMOND MERCHANT.