What put Matt in a quandary, however, was the fact that he could not reconcile his present surroundings with the Crescent. He was in an armor-plated room, and the sailboat was a small wooden vessel, and was hardly fitted with such a cabin as that to which the prisoner had been taken.
While Matt was wondering about this, a door in one of the bulkheads opened and another prisoner was carried in by two men and laid down beside him. This second captive likewise had his head smothered in a coat, but the blue uniform told Matt plainly he was the policeman. The officer was bound, just as Matt was, and as soon as he was laid down the coat was jerked away and the two who had brought him into the room started out.
"Wait!" called Matt, his voice ringing strangely between the steel walls. "What do you mean by making prisoners of us, like this?"
One of the men looked around and laughed grimly, but he made no other reply. The next moment the door had closed, and Matt and the officer were alone together.
"Here's a pretty how-de-do," fumed the officer. "These villains are goin' a good ways in their attempt to help that thief, Jurgens! Somebody'll smart for all this."
"Those men on the Crescent are foolish," said Matt. "It won't be long before McMillan gets us out of here."
"I don't know about that," was the answer. "Mebby it won't be so easy as you think for McMillan to get us away from these scoundrels."
"Where is McMillan? Do you know?"
"He was on the wharf with me, just before the Crescent got in. He thought him and me wasn't enough to get Jurgens off the boat, and so he went after another officer. You're Motor Matt, who's been making ascensions in that air ship—— I've seen you a good many times on the beach. My name's Holcomb."