"Luck!" cried Whistler. "This is our lucky day, Jurgens, and no mistake."
"Nothing ever dropped into our hands so easy before!" jubilated Jurgens. "All we've got to do is to think of some way to pull off the deal and——"
Feet clattered up the outside steps. Leaving Whistler to look after the youth, Jurgens darted into the hall.
"Hello, Bangs!" he exclaimed, a moment later. "What's the trouble?"
"I was down on the levee when Whistler took a fellow we both thought was Motor Matt into a carriage and rushed away with him," came the voice of Bangs, as Jurgens led him into the front room; "but when I——"
Bangs likewise wore a false beard. He was pulling it off as he came into the room, but suddenly he stopped and stared. His eyes were on Joe Dashington.
"Well?" demanded Jurgens curtly.
"That—that chap is a dead ringer for Motor Matt!" gasped Bangs, pointing to the youth.
"A dead ringer for him?" echoed Whistler. "Why, Bangs, he is Motor Matt."
"That's what I thought when you rushed away with him," continued Bangs, "but you hadn't been gone three minutes when Motor Matt showed up on the levee and the officer tried to arrest him."