Riding on two seats, with an unconscious and wounded man to look after, was not going to be child’s play for Matt and McGlory—particularly as the cowboy was not in very good condition himself. Then, too, cramped as he was going to be, Matt would have to look after the runabout. That might be an easy matter, and it might not. It all depended on how the runabout was going to act.
“Can you help me get him into the car, Joe?” asked Matt.
“I’m not good for much, Matt,” was the response; “but I’ll do what I can.”
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Just shaken up, I reckon. I’ve had a good many falls, but never one like that before.”
Matt, when Levitt was lifted, contrived to carry most of the burden. McGlory groaned when the limp form of Levitt was in the car, and grabbed at the car seat to support himself.
“Something has happened to you, old chap, besides a mere shaking up,” averred Matt. “I guess I’ll have to leave you at Hempstead with Levitt.”
“Nary, you don’t. I’ve got to get to that meeting.”
Matt made no answer to this. It brought up a subject which he was not yet ready to discuss.
“Get into the car, Joe,” said he. “Hold Levitt’s head up between your knees, if you can. I won’t be able to help support him—the car will take all my attention.”