"Then the other car is doing better than a mile a minute! A thousand dollars for you, King, if you land me, with those pearls, safe in Ash Fork!"
The hot blood went dancing through Motor Matt's veins. Could he do it? Reason told him that the feat was impossible, but——
A thought at that instant leaped through his alert brain. There was a chance—a long chance.
"Slide into this seat, Gregory!" he cried. "Careful, now. I'll hang to the wheel while you get under me."
"What are you going to do?" demanded the astonished Gregory.
"The best I can—and trust to luck."
A note of thrilling determination rang in Motor Matt's voice.
Gregory crawled and scrambled over the front of the lurching car and got into the driver's seat. Matt, relinquishing the wheel, went on his knees in the seat vacated by Gregory.
"Pringle," called Matt, leaning into the tonneau, "you have a bottle in your pocket?"
"Yes, I——"