So wary was he that he made very little noise.
He had gone perhaps a dozen feet through the brushy tangle, when a glow of light struck on his eyes. This acted as a sort of beacon, and served to guide him the rest of the way. A dozen feet more brought him to the opposite side of the opening and to the edge of the bushes.
Crouching silently on the ground he proceeded to survey the peculiar niche in front of him.
Josh's description, likening the place to a "well," was quite appropriate. The niche was circular in form and its walls arose steeply to a height of at least fifty feet. In the shadow of the walls the place was very dark, but the glowing lamps of an automobile enabled Matt to see enough to send a chill of disappointment through him.
There was only one automobile in the niche!
And that one was the runabout!
Brisco and Spangler must have emerged and gone off somewhere with the Red Flier.
Had they taken it away to destroy it?
The three horses were not far from the runabout. They were secured to some bushes, and could be heard pawing and stamping.
Matt could also hear something else, and that was the snoring of a man in deep sleep.