"I'll get gay with you, all right, my festive kiskedee," he snapped. "That cigarette of yours set fire to that bale, an' you'll just consider yourself pinched."
The officer's hand dropped on Matt's shoulder.
"You will pinch me, eh?" answered Matt. "Well, you've got another guess coming!"
With that his languid air vanished in a twinkling and he became imbued with the fiercest kind of energy. With a swift leap he wrenched himself free of the policeman's detaining hand. The policeman, with an angry shout, jumped at him, swinging his club. Matt's foot went out and the policeman was neatly tripped and measured his length on the planks.
This was energy of the kind Motor Matt could display, upon occasion, but he had never been known to direct it against an officer of the law. Nor was Motor Matt insolent—he had other ways for meeting injustice.
Astonishment at the swift progress of events and the unheard-of actions of their chum held Carl and Dick stunned in their tracks.
"He iss grazy!" averred Carl, with a gasp. "Modor Matt has gone off der chump! He iss pughouse, yah, so helup me!"
"He's all ahoo in his top hammer and no mistake!" agreed Dick. "But we've got to help him, Carl. We can't stand off and on while Matt's in trouble. Avast there!" he yelled, running toward the exciting scene.
"Hold back a minute, officer! Sheer off, and keep those men back!"