With a hasty look behind, Matt slowed the machine.
“It’s all up with us,” puffed McGlory, hanging over the edge of the car. “We’ll have to leave the machine and take to our heels.”
“Why?” flashed Matt.
“The gates are locked.”
For an instant Matt was stunned. The gates—locked! Of course, they would be locked! Why had he not thought of that when he was planning to use the red car for their escape?
“We’ll never get away if we trust to our heels, Joe,” said Matt grimly. “Get in—be quick!”
By that time, Miles had been joined by Barney, and by the man who had called to Matt from the stables. The three, feeling sure that they had the car in a trap, were advancing cautiously, watching to see what the boys would do next.
McGlory did not know what plan Matt had formed; but, nevertheless, he scrambled into the tonneau.
“How’ll you get past the gates?” cried the cowboy, standing erect in the tonneau, and clinging to the coat rail.
“Get down in the bottom of the tonneau!” ordered Matt, without looking around.