"Waal, kinder. He thought his Dutch pard was erlong."
Matt, while this talk was going forward, realized with a shock that the two men in the car were Brisco and Spangler. Brisco was in the driver's seat, and Spangler was in the tonneau.
With a quick gathering of all his strength, Matt flung himself toward the door of the tonneau. His first unreasoning impulse was to get away from his captors. The car must have been going forty miles an hour, and the roadside was lined with sharp stones. If Matt had succeeded in his desperate attempt, he could hardly have escaped without serious injury; but his rash move was nipped in the bud. Spangler, who was in the tonneau for the purpose, grabbed Matt and hurled him back into the seat.
"None o' that!" he growled. "Want ter break yer bloomin' neck? Not as I keer much about yer neck, but Hank an' me hev got diff'rent plans fer ye."
Matt was still dizzy and weak. The nausea at his stomach was leaving him slowly, but it made him feel as limp as a rag and utterly helpless.
"Did you men run away with this car?" he asked.
"Looks that-away, don't it?" returned Spangler.
"Where's Carl?"
"Didn't hev no time ter bother with the Dutchman, so we left him behind."