BACK TO THE CAR.
There was but one place where Spangler could have come from, and that was the east road. The stolen car must have been driven along the direct trail leading to Ash Fork and have stopped so as to let Spangler out at the nearest point to the hut.
As Matt turned on the ruffian, Tomlinson and Gregory started up from the bench.
"There's one of the rascals!" exclaimed Tomlinson.
Spangler, for a moment, had shown evidences of surprise. Getting quick control of himself, he pushed into the hut and started for Matt.
"Waal, my bantam," he sneered, "I reckon ye didn't make sich a clean gitaway, arter all. Here's where ye git what's comin' if ye don't fork over that bag. Hurry up with it! Ye've made us a heap o' trouble an' we ain't allowin' ter put up with any more o' yer foolishness."
"Why, you infernal scoundrel," cried Tomlinson wrathfully, "you're my prisoner! Put down that revolver, or——"
"Oh, you say moo an' chase yerself!" scoffed Spangler. "I got bizness with young King, here, an' if you butt in ye're goin' ter git hurt. I'll take them pearls," he added to Matt, "an' I'll take 'em now."
Spangler was only one against three, but he was armed, and two of the men he faced were worn out with the physical suffering they had endured. The ruffian was counting confidently on having things his own way, and Matt was wondering how he could checkmate him.
Hank must be somewhere around. Probably, Matt reasoned to himself, Hank was in the east road keeping guard of the driver of the stolen car.