Matt told him.
"That's a good idea," approved Chub, "but the deputies ought to have been started out right after we got here."
"That's one place where my foresight slipped a cog, Chub," said Matt. "I believe I'm getting batty over this business of Clip's. Any telegram from Short?"
"No."
Nor was any message received that day. Neither did anything else develop. The boys remained in the office until midnight, and then, with heavy hearts, went to their room and to bed.
"We're a couple of dubs for staying here like we are," said Chub. "Let's get on our wheels in the morning and roll back where we belong."
"We'll wait till Monday morning," said Matt. "If we can't find out anything by then we'll take the train that leaves here at nine in the morning. Our motor-cycles can travel in the baggage-car. I wouldn't feel like taking chances of an accident to the machines on that trip."
Chub brightened.
"That's the talk!" he exclaimed. "We'll wire Short to hold the case open till we get there, then you can butt in and tell every blooming thing you know about Clip and Pima Pete. Maybe it will help."
Matt was beginning to think that this was the only thing to be done. If Clip wouldn't talk, then, at the last moment, it might be best for his friends to talk for him.