Matt caught his breath. Colonel Plympton was coming to see him!
"Ask him to come right up," said Matt, turning away.
"Who it vas?" queried Carl curiously.
"Plympton!" exclaimed Matt exultantly. "He is hunting me instead of letting me go looking for him."
Carl wore a grin you could have tied behind his ears.
"Now vat vouldt dot Sercomb gang say oof dey knowed dot!" he chuckled.
[CHAPTER III.]
SUSPICIOUS DOINGS.
The Stark-Frisbie Company, like most of the progressive automobile concerns, maintained a staff of racing-drivers. Wherever there was a speed contest, a reliability run or an endurance trial, Stark-Frisbie cars were sure to be entered.