"Bully for you, Matt!" cried Legree.
The next instant Legree's blacksnake whip had curled itself about the ruffian's left wrist, girdling the skin like a loop of fire.
The man roared out an oath. The pain must have been intense, for his fingers curled away from the box and he caught his wrist with his other hand.
Matt stared. When the ruffian had turned and rushed into the woods, cursing and vowing vengeance, Matt continued to stare.
"Ever seen that man before, Matt?" asked Legree, surprised at the boy's manner.
"I should say so!" exclaimed Matt. "Let's get back to the car. You've got back the box, but we haven't seen the last of this—not by a long shot."
[CHAPTER III.]
THE STOLEN RUNABOUT.
Shouts of relief went up from those in the Red Flier at sight of Matt and Legree sprinting down the road, Legree with the box and Matt with the revolver.