"Pringle!" shouted Carl; "oof it ain'd Pringle I vas a geezer! Oh, be jeerful, eferypody. Come, Pringle, come to me! I peen vaiding here, und somepody else vas vaiding pehindt, aber meppy you pedder dake shances mit me."
A thrill of disappointment ran through Matt. He was expecting Trymore with the pearls, and now to be forced to run away with Pringle looked like losing out on the whole proposition.
But there could be no lingering with the hope of ultimately securing Trymore. Hank and Spangler would be quick to understand the possibilities of the car, in Trymore's case, and they might puncture a tire, or do some other damage to eliminate the machine.
Pringle, caught between two fires, did not hesitate to take his chances with Carl. With a wild leap he slammed himself on the foot-board and against the tonneau. Carl had the door open, and laid hold of him and dragged him in.
Matt, smothering his disappointment, slid into his seat and started the car.
At that moment, Hank plunged out of the timber.
"Here, you!" he yelled to Matt. "Wait! I want that fellow!"
"You can't have him," shouted Matt, and jumped to the high gear.
Then away they went, covering the back trail as rapidly as they had gone over it the other way.