"Gif her all she vill shtand, Matt!" cried Carl. "Hit her oop like anyding! Tear off der miles so kevick as dey nefer vas yet!"
"Whoop-ya!" yelled Spangler. "We'll purty near git thar afore we start! Talk about yer travelin'—why, this here's like bein' shot out of a gun!"
"That fellow isn't Tomlinson, you say?" shouted Matt to the man beside him.
"No more than I am!" answered Hank.
"Is he Denver Denny, otherwise James Trymore?"
"You've hit it!"
A light had suddenly dawned on Matt. Denver Denny was playing a bold game, and the stakes were $30,000 worth of black pearls. Although Matt was helping Spangler and Hank, yet there was a hope, deep down in his heart, that he might somehow be able to worst all the robbers and recover the pearls for the man who owned them.
But where was that man?
While all this fighting was going on for the possession of the pearls, what had become of James Q. Tomlinson, of Denver?