"It means a whole lot to me. This car belongs to Mr. Tomlinson, and I've promised to take it safely to Albuquerque."
"Be hanged to you and Mr. Tomlinson!" snarled Brisco. "We'll fix this car before we're done with it. If you ever take it to Albuquerque, you'll have to scoop up the pieces and tote 'em there in a lumber-wagon. That's part of what we're going to do to play even with you and him!"
Matt's heart skipped a beat, and a cold chill ran through his body. Could the villains really mean to destroy the Red Flier?
"You'd better think well about what you do," warned Matt. "If you ruin this car, Mr. Tomlinson will never let up on you till he puts you where you belong."
Spangler brought his hand around in a sweeping blow. Matt dodged the hand so that the stroke was only a glancing one.
"Shut up!" he cried savagely. "Ye ain't here ter make any threats, 'r throw any bluffs."
At that moment, Brisco brought the car to a stop, putting on the brakes so suddenly that the wheels locked and slid.
"I reckon this'll be far enough," said Brisco, turning in his seat. "Make him get out, Spang."
"Hear that?" cried Spang. "Open the door and git down."
"What's this for?" returned Matt, making no move to obey.