Chub got out and scrambled into the rumble. The machine took the spark without cranking and the red roadster started off.
"So-long, Perk!" shouted Chub hilariously, standing up in the rumble and waving his hand. "Tell Susie, when you get home, that we'll straggle in by supper-time."
The old man never looked around, but the way he stabbed the ground with his wooden pin showed how he felt.
Perhaps half a mile from the place where Welcome had left the car the boys met a horseman riding at speed in the direction of town. The man drew rein for an instant.
"Turn around!" he yelled; "p'int the other way! Can't ye hear 'em. Thar's a stampede on, an' a thousand head o' cattle aire tearin' this way like an express-train! Listen! If ye don't hike, they'll run right over ye!"
Startled exclamations escaped the boys. The cowboy's manner, quite as much as his words, aroused their alarm.
The trail, for several miles in that particular part of the hills, was walled in on both sides by high, steep ground. This made a sort of chute of the road, so that those in charge of the cattle would not be able to get ahead of them and turn them.
Having given his warning and done what he could, the cowboy used his spurs and dashed on. At that moment a rumble of falling hoofs reached the ears of the boys, accompanied by the click, click of knocking horns and a frenzied bellowing.
"Turn 'er, quick!" whooped Chub.
But the command was unnecessary. Motor Matt with a firm hand and a steady brain, was already manipulating the red roadster, backing and forging ahead in order to get faced the other way in the cramped space.