Brisco had not yet corralled his wits. Aided by Josh, Matt dragged the man off to one side, where he would be out of the way; then, cutting about six feet of rope from the other riata, he threw it down where Josh could get at it.
"When Brisco wakes up, Josh," said Matt, "just hold him steady till we put that rope on him."
"Wot yous goin' t' do, Matt?" inquired the wondering Josh. "Yous is busier dan a monkey wit' his hand in a coconut."
"We're going to haul the runabout into Fairview," said Matt. "But I've got to patch her up first."
Getting into the Red Flier, Matt backed her as close to the disabled car as he could; then, hitching onto the runabout with the ropes, he pulled it down onto the level plain.
With a jack taken from the touring-car he swung the runabout's wheel off the ground. The mud-guard, having been ripped off, was not in his way. After locating the puncture and marking it with chalk, he unscrewed the wing-nuts, pushed out the security-bolt, and then, with levers, dug out the inner tube.
Perhaps he was an hour getting the hole patched up, tire back in place and reinflated. When he was through, the runabout was ready to be dragged to Fairview.
"How's Brisco?" asked Matt, putting on his leather coat, which he had thrown off while working with the runabout.
"Same as wot he was, cull," replied Josh. "He ain't twitched an eye-winker."
"He may be shamming," said Matt, "in the hope of making a bolt for his liberty. We'll put him in the tonneau. You can ride with him and watch him every minute. I'll take Spangler in front with me."